Judith Moffett's Pennterra: Going Native

During my one year as an acquiring editor for Fantastic Books, two of my acquired titles saw publication: Judith Moffett's long-out-of-print first novel Pennterra, and gonzo novel Fuzzy Dice by Paul Di Filippo, which had been previously published only as a limited edition by a British small press.

Recently Pennterra was reviewed by a British print magazine, H&E Naturist. Since the review is not available online, I've taken the liberty of entering the full review below for your reading pleasure.  I'm posting this review on More Red Ink because the author is currently involved in writing a memoir, to which she is devoting all of her writing time; thus her blog and website have not been updated for quite some time. If you don't know who Judith Moffett is, or you are curious what she has to write a memoir about, you may want to check out her Wikipedia entry: Judy is not your typical SF/F genre writer! You can also read my previous blog post about Judy's published work entitled "Aliens Have Entered Mainstream's Orbit."

Before posting the review, I would first like to reiterate the quote from Nebula Award-winning author Michael Bishop that appears on the cover (pictured above) of this reprint edition of Pennterra: "Stunning... the best first novel I have read in at least a decade... dangerous and breathtaking to behold."

Tim Powers: Not So Strange Itineraries

I spent nine days in Southern California -- Orange County, specifically¹ -- returning home in the early evening on Saturday, September 18. What with preparing for the trip, the trip itself, and then the necessary catching-up on business projects upon my return, well, that's why little has been heard from me for these past three weeks.

A wee bit of background (and I'll try not to bore you) on why I was in SoCal for those nine days: My mother had her knee replaced eighteen years ago. That knee had deteriorated, and it finally gave out on her about two and a half months ago. The knee was reset in the hospital, then my mother was carted off the next day to a rehab facility for two weeks (where I visited her during one of those weeks, as I previously reported in this blog). Unfortunately, four weeks later, the knee dislocated again, so the mum underwent full knee replacement surgery. The surgery went well, and she is now recovering in that same rehab facility yet again. I arrived just prior to her surgery on Friday, September 10, and stayed through the following week.

The rehab facility is on Old Tustin Avenue in Santa Ana -- just across the street and about a half-block away from Benjie's, a New York-style deli, and one of only two such delis (the other being Katella Deli in Los Alamitos) in the OC.

I have only eaten at Benjie's once before, and promised myself that I would make it back there for dinner at least once before departing SoCal this time around. I had three evenings from which to chose: Wednesday, Thursday, or Friday (September 15-17). I chose that Wednesday evening because, to put it bluntly, I was starving. By the time I had dinner at 7:00pm, it had been eleven hours since I had last eaten -- and you must be starving in order to consume completely one of Benjie's humongous "hot corned beef on rye" sandwiches.

So the waitress seats me, and I'm not paying much attention to the surrounding environment: I'm tired (sat with the mum in the rehab facility for eight straight hours), I'm hungry, I need to use the facilities, especially to wash my face and hands.

A short while later, my dinner is served. About the time that I've eaten nearly half the sandwich -- which, by the way, was wonderful -- motion to my left catches my eye. I automatically turn my head to look, and to my surprise, I recognize Tim Powers walking down the aisle toward the front of the restaurant.

I'm sitting in a booth; in the aisle next to mine (to my left), one booth back I now see Serena Powers, Tim's wife. When I had been seated, Tim's back was toward me, and he was sitting across from his wife, thus blocking my view of her.

So I waited for Tim to return, and then I stood and greeted him in the aisle before he reached his seat. Tim recognized me, but I was out of context and thus I had to remind him of where we had last seen one another, when we had last worked together.

Tachyon Publications released the long-out-of-print The Stress of Her Regard in August 2008. Toward the end of 2007 through February 2008, I scanned in that entire book -- 180,000 words! -- cleaned up said scan, and then copyedited the manuscript. The book that I had scanned had an inordinate number of typos and formatting errors, all of which I hope I caught. Tim also provided a dozen or so changes that he wanted included as well in this new edition, so I would say that the Tachyon Publications edition of The Stress of Her Regard is undoubtedly the author's preferred text. Tim did tell me that I did a "great job" on the book, so I'll simply take his word for it.

A few months later, at BayCon 2008 -- in which Tim Powers was the Writer Guest of Honor -- we participated in a panel discussion² entitled "Is the Short Story Dead?" on Friday, May 23, at 4:00pm (along with panelists Irene Radford and Tony Todaro). And as I'm sure you have surmised already, we all agreed that the short story is indeed not dead! In fact, even in 2008, the genre saw an increase in online magazines as well as an increase in anthologies, and though some  'zines (online and print) have ceased publication since then, there have been others to take their place.

Prior to these events in 2008, I copyedited Tim's short story collection, Strange Itineraries, also from Tachyon Publications. I completed work on this book in February 2005, and it was published in July of that year.

As I said, I could have chosen any one of three evenings to eat at Benjie's; but I chose that evening, Wednesday, which just happened to be the evening that Tim and Serena Powers were having dinner at the same restaurant. (They were also with a third person whom I didn't recognize.) It's just another example of how very small the SF/F community really is. I live in San Jose in Northern California, Tim lives in San Bernardino in Southern California, and there we were at the same restaurant in Santa Ana on this one particular Wednesday evening.

---------------
Footnotes:

¹ Orange County is one of my least favorite places. Though I spent a number of years growing up there (age thirteen through high school graduation), I got the hell out as soon as I could. I returned for a few years simply because of the booming job market, but then left (forever) when I was offered a job in Silicon Valley. Over the past twenty-five or so years, I visit the OC at most once a year, unless a family emergency or a business opportunity (e.g. the 2006 L.A. WorldCon in Anaheim) demands my presence otherwise.

² Note to Tim Powers fans: Tim is a doodler! When he sits on a convention panel, and there is a notepad in front of him (typically one provided by the hotel), he will doodle. Page after page of doodles, on as many pages as the notepad has. And best of all, he always leaves the notepad on the table at the end of the panel discussion. So, feel free to snag said notepad once Tim leaves the table. You won't find any doodles as elaborate (or colored) as the one below, but this will give you an idea of what you can expect:

This sketch, entitled "Blackbeard Angry," appears on the half title page of my first edition copy of On Stranger Tides (Ace Books, 1987). Tim did the sketch itself at the 1998 World Fantasy Convention, Halloween weekend, in Monterey, California.  Upon completing the sketch, Tim told me that he would have colored it had he had some colored pencils. So, the following year, at the World Fantasy Con in Providence, Rhode Island, I accommodated Tim by providing him with a set of colored pencils! The colors in this scan, unfortunately, don't appear as bright and bold as they actually are.

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August Links & Things (Part Two)

Part Two of my "August Links & Things" blog post is of a more personal nature, primarily on authors with whom I have worked, books I have edited. You can receive these links in real time by following me on Twitter: @martyhalpern -- but here, in addition to the links themselves, I include more detail and occasional comments.

• RTBookReviews.com [Romantic Times] has "Kage Baker Remembered" -- heartfelt memories of the author as seen "through the eyes of her younger sister, Kathleen Bartholomew." I would like to add that in all the years I've known Kage -- and through lunches, dinners, bookstore readings, convention panels, hotel lobby chats, etc. -- she and Kathleen were inseparable. Reading about Kage through Kathleen's eyes is a pure joy. [Note: I have written my own remembrance of working with Kage Baker.]

Kage, age 6, with her first typewriter,
and her godfather, Irish actor Sean McClory

• And if you are a reader and/or fan of Kage's writings, then you'll want to be following Kathleen's blog: Kathleen, Kage and the Company, in which Kathleen is -- to use her word -- "channeling" Kage. In between her fiction writing, Kathleen tells many wonderful stories of growing up with Kage, the two of them living together in various locales, their travels, their hobbies, the food they loved, and more. Kathleen has tons of Kage's notes, and years and years of long discussions with Kage about her stories and characters -- and Kathleen plans to write the novels that Kage was unable to complete. She is currently working on the sequel to The Women of Nell Gwynne's.
  

August Links & Things (Part One)

I'll begin with a quick status: I currently have three copyediting projects in process: 1) the December 2010 issue of Realms of Fantasy magazine; 2) Phil and Kaja Foglio's Agatha H and the Airship City (a novel based on the "Girl Genius" comic series) forthcoming from Night Shade Books in January 2011; and 3) Joe Lansdale's Crucified Dreams anthology for Tachyon Publications. And I have a couple other projects in the works that I hope to announce shortly. Until then....

Due to content, I'm splitting the "August Links & Things" wrap-up into two parts; hopefully Part Two will follow within a few days at most. You can receive these links in real time by following me on Twitter: @martyhalpern -- but here in my blog post, in addition to the links themselves, I include more detail and the occasional comments.

• If, like me, you're waiting for that Android tablet (because you simply don't like Apple and/or you are not satisfied with the iPad's features), then there is much to be pleased with in the world. Samsung has unveiled the Galaxy tablet at the IFA trade show in Berlin; the tablet will be released in Europe this month and in the U.S. "in coming months." PCMag.com has a features comparison between the Galaxy and the iPad.

• Also in the news: According to InformationWeek.com, Google, Motorola, and Verizon are partnering in what may be the first Android 3.0 tablet. This is only a PR announcement, no real details, but enough to pique one's interest in the future of the Android tablet. (via @News4Android)

• Best-selling author Seth Godin made headlines throughout the publishing industry when he announced on his blog: "Linchpin will be the last book I publish in a traditional way." Godin provides some background and thoughts on the current state of publishing, and concludes with: "...my mission is to figure out who [my] audience is, and take them where they want and need to go, in whatever format works, even if it's not a traditionally published book." (via @GalleyCat)

• In fact, nearly all of the links in this post are concerned with non-traditional publishing. As I've mentioned in previous month-end posts, author Dean Wesley Smith is writing a series of blog posts entitled "The New World of Publishing." In the current entry, "Books Are No Longer Produce," Dean discusses how books were/are treated as little more than grocery store produce in traditional publishing, and he provides a bit of history on how this thinking -- and treatment of books -- came about. But, as Dean states: "books don't spoil." And because "books don't spoil" (Dean states this six different times in the course of the post.) traditional publishing must change if they are to survive. A well-written piece worthy of your time; and check out the more than 45 Comments as well.

• And if the idea of self-publishing has even barely touched the outer fringes of your mind, then this next blog post is an absolute must read: "Self-Publishing and Subsidy Presses." If you've ever wondered what the difference is between self-publishing and vanity presses, this is the place to start. The post includes quotes from noted folks in the field, links to even more resources (SFWA, Writers Beware, Scribd, Lulu, etc.), breakdown in percentages of publishing costs, plus more than 30 Comments. I can't stress this enough: Before you consider the self-publishing route -- and more importantly, a self-publishing press -- you need to do your homework.

Philip K. Dick & Rudy Rucker's Warez

I've been reading Philip K. Dick's stories and novels ever since I learned to read and think at the same time. Seriously, I've been reading (and collecting) PKD's work for many years. On my bookshelves, I have all of his more esoteric "mainstream" novels, including Confessions of a Crap Artist (Entwhistle Books, 1975), The Man Whose Teeth Were All Exactly Alike (Mark V. Ziesing, 1984), In Milton Lumpky Territory (Dragon Press, 1985), Puttering About in a Small Land (Academy Chicago, 1985), Humpty Dumpty in Oakland (Victor Gollancz, 1986), as well as a few others, in addition to the 5-volume Collected Stories of Philip K. Dick, edited by Paul Williams¹ and published by Underwood-Miller in 1987.

I was a member of the PKD Society beginning in the mid-1980s, and as I wrote in a previous blog post, I used to help out at the newsletter mailing parties at Paul Williams' San Francisco home. And it was this involvement with PKD and the PKD Society that led me to attend my first Armadillocon in Austin, Texas: Armadillocon 10 in October 1988. K. W. Jeter was the Guest of Honor, and when I learned that James P. Blaylock and Tim Powers were also scheduled to attend -- all three former members of the "Thursday Night Gang"² -- then I knew this was one convention that I simply could not miss.

During that convention, Jeter, Blaylock, and Powers held a panel discussion entitled "Memories of Philip K. Dick;" the panel met at midnight, but I don't recall on which night, Friday or Saturday. I recorded the entire discussion on a mini-cassette recorder, obtained the three panelists' permission to reprint the content in the PKD Society's newsletter, and then sent the tapes to Paul. He transcribed the tapes himself, and the highly edited panel discussion³ was included in issue #20 of the newsletter, April 1989, under the title "The Phil Wars."

The Facebook "Like" Button

After quite a bit of code crunching, I've added a Facebook "Like" button to this blog; the button will appear after the header on each individual blog post. So if you like what you read, I'd appreciate it if you would click on the button. The "Like" should then appear on your FB page (assuming, of course, that you have an FB account and are currently logged in). I was hoping that I could add it to only future posts, but alas, this is the only way that I, at least, have figured out how to have the button automatically appear on each post. And I'll be the first to test this post!

A Philip K. Dick Quote

While working on my new blog post, which covers some Philip K. Dick territory, I came upon this quote by the man, and just had to post it here. Given the political times in which we now live, this is probably one of the most apropos quotes I have ever seen, especially when one considers that it had to have been spoken, or written, prior to March 2, 1982, when PKD passed away.

"The basic tool for the manipulation of reality is the manipulation of words. If you can control the meaning of words, you can control the people who must use the words." ―Philip K. Dick

Is Anybody Out There? plus more on SETI

As I mentioned in a previous blog post, this year marks the 50th Anniversary of the SETI program -- the Search for Extraterrestrial Intelligence. This is why we've seen far more than the usual number of articles, interviews, and new books and their corresponding reviews on the subject.

In fact, not too many months ago -- April 25, to be exact -- the UK's Sunday Times Online ran an article on Stephen W. Hawking's (pictured above) new Discovery Channel documentary, with the following quote from the physicist: "The aliens are out there, and Earth had better watch out." Now, in a new audio recording with Big Think, Professor Hawking warns us that humanity's survival depends on inhabiting the stars: "I believe that the long-term future of the human race must be in space. It will be difficult enough to avoid disaster on planet Earth in the next hundred years, let alone the next thousand, or million. The human race shouldn't have all its eggs in one basket, or on one planet. Let's hope we can avoid dropping the basket until we have spread the load." And, of course, while we're at it, we need to be wary of ET! The Big Think piece is quite compelling; Hawking states that he is an optimist, but his outlook for the human race is very bleak. And there are more than 50 Comments to the article, some as intriguing as (if not more so than) the article itself.

This past weekend, the SETI Institute in Mountain View, California, hosted SETIcon, a convention that brought together representatives from science and research (Frank Drake), space exploration (Astronaut Rusty Schweickart), television & media (producer Andre Bormanis, actor John Billingsley), literature (authors Mary Roach & Robert J. Sawyer), music (Mickey Hart), and many others, and was open to the public. Speaking at the convention, Seth Shostak, senior astronomer at the SETI Institute, said: "I actually think the chances that we'll find ET are pretty good....Young people in the audience, I think there's a really good chance you're going to see this happen." (quote courtesy of msnbc.com)

Of course the big questions continue to be: "How will we discover ET?" and/or "In what form(s) will we discover ET?" -- which was touched on in my previous blog on "50 Years of SETI" -- but if you haven't figured out where I'm headed with this then you haven't been reading my blog regularly.

July Links & Things

I've lost a week of work this month with a trip to Southern Cal to visit the mum in hospital rehab. She entered the hospital the morning of Friday, July 9 (about the time I arrived in Boston for Readercon), and she should be home, finally, by the end of this week. Then we'll have to see how she does on her own, though I suspect she'll have some in-home care for at least the first week.

Thus my recap of July's Links & Things will have less entries than normal due to time constraints. I do want you to know that I review all the links I pass on to ensure that they will be worth the time spent to read them (or in the case of video, to view them); if my readers aren't going to gain something that I feel is of value, then I don't include the link. It's as simple as that. Of course, I do have my own personal preferences and prejudices, but then who doesn't?

So, here are my links and such for the month of July. I've listed them here, with a bit of additional detail and comment. You can receive these links in real time by following me on Twitter: @martyhalpern.

• SFSignal.com reviews Hespira, the third volume in Matthew Hughes' Henghis Hapthorn series, which I edited for Night Shade Books; the first two volumes in the series are Majestrum (2006) and The Spiral Labyrinth (2007). In his review, John DeNardo writes: "...Hughes' writing style is the real star, using a pitch-perfect delivery of stylistic prose that sets the mood and dry humor that is sure to elicit a few smiles.... The usual caveat of a latter-series novel applies here: you do not need to read the previous Henghis Hapthorn stories to enjoy Hespira, but you will gain even more enjoyment out of it if you do."
  

• Of all the books that I've edited over the years, the most-reviewed are undoubtedly the Laundry Files titles by Charles Stross: The Atrocity Archives (2004) and The Jennifer Morgue (2006), both from Golden Gryphon Press, and the recently published The Fuller Memorandum from Ace Books. I could fill an entire blog post with blurbs from all the TFM reviews I've read over the past two or so weeks, but for the sake of brevity, I'll only refer you to one of those reviews, which I felt was especially astute and articulate -- and that would be the review by Russell Letson, posted on Locus online on July 16, 2010. I've linked to the review for your reading pleasure, but what I wanted to do here was include a quote from the novel itself that Russell quoted in his review. Here are geekish demonology hacker extraordinaire Bob Howard's thoughts on the iPhone: "About the only smart phone that doesn’t stink like goose shit is the JesusPhone. But I've steadfastly refused to join the Cult of Jobs ever since I saw the happy-clappy revival tent launch." Unfortunately, before too long, Bob succumbs to the shiny. [I've written a lengthy blog post about my working with Charlie Stross on this series.]
  

• New eBook publisher Weightless Books (catch phrase: Books That Don't Weigh You Down) -- a branch, or subsidiary, or imprint, or whatever of Small Beer Press -- has published an eBook of the definitive edition of Judith Moffett's first novel Pennterra. This is the edition of Pennterra that Judith and I worked on over a period of weeks last year (published in a trade paperback edition in 2009 by Fantastic Books) to ensure that it was indeed the definitive version. And while you're at it, you may as well snag the eBook edition of her latest novel, The Bird Shaman, volume three in her Holy Ground Trilogy; but as with volume three of the Hughes trilogy above, you do not need to read the previous two volumes to enjoy The Bird Shaman.
  
  If you're into physical books, you can also purchase a signed (or signed and inscribed) copy of The Bird Shaman direct from the author's website. [And last, but certainly not least, you can read my earlier blog post on Judith Moffett and her various books and stories.]
  

• As long-time readers here know, I'm a fan of the axed-by-Fox-before-its-time TV series Firefly. Well, io9.com (@io9) felt that the introductory credits sequence that opened Firefly needed a bit of sprucing up. To use io9's words: the intro needed "a kick-ass, old-school, synth-happy, guitar-solo" and "Spaceships, 1980s-style." So, click the io9 link above, click the vid, sit back, and enjoy. Oh, and turn the sound up on your monitor! (via @charliejane)
  

Is Anybody Out There? and 50 Years of SETI

Henry Thomas stars in Steven Spielberg's E.T.: The Extra-Terrestrial
(courtesy of Universal/Everett)

The Daily Galaxy (@dailygalaxy) posted an article online on June 20, 2010, entitled "Invisible Extraterrestrials? World Leading Physicist Says 'They Could Exist in Forms We Can't Conceive.'" The physicist to whom the article refers is Lord Martin Rees, president of Britain's Royal Society and astronomer to the Queen of England. Earlier, in May, Lord Rees hosted a National Science Academy Conference -- "The Detection of Extra-terrestrial Life and the Consequences for Science and Society" -- at which he stated that he believes the existence of extraterrestrial life may be beyond human understanding. To quote Rees directly:

"They could be staring us in the face and we just don’t recognize them. The problem is that we’re looking for something very much like us, assuming that they at least have something like the same mathematics and technology.

"I suspect there could be life and intelligence out there in forms we can’t conceive. Just as a chimpanzee can’t understand quantum theory, it could be there are aspects of reality that are beyond the capacity of our brains."

Also participating in this conference was noted SETI-founder Frank Drake (of the Drake equation fame), who presented an interesting theory on how the "digital revolution" is making humanity invisible to aliens by cutting [to the vanishing point] the transmission of analog TV and radio signals into space.

The article goes on to define three propositions to explain why "there is no direct and/or widely apparent evidence that extraterrestrial life exists." If you're intrigued with all of this, then by all means please read the entire Daily Galaxy article, including the Comments section, in which a reader suggests a fourth proposition.

Last week, while visiting "the mom" in a medical rehab facility (see blog post dated Friday, July 23, 2010), I managed to steal away for a few hours to meet my friend -- and author -- Bruce McAllister for dinner. The last time we got together (during the Thanksgiving holiday last year), the anthology Is Anybody Out There? was still a work in process. But now that it has been published, I was able to chat with Bruce about the many reviews, in addition to the Readercon book launch. Then, a few days ago, on July 27, Bruce sent me an email with only a lone link attached -- to a TIME online piece entitled "Listening for Aliens: What Would E.T. Do?"

The article focuses on the work of Gregory Benford, professor of physics at the University of California at Irvine and an award-winning science fiction writer, his twin brother James, and James' son Dominic. The Benfords have been rethinking the SETI project, which now marks its 50th year.

After exhaustive analysis, the Benfords believe that aliens who want to be detected would most likely send out short, powerful bursts every so often rather than continuous transmissions. Unfortunately, these "Benford beacons" would be easy to miss if scientists weren't listening right at that exact time.  The article concludes with an extrapolation:

"Of course, all the new work [on SETI] may be unnecessary, since it's just possible we've spotted E.T. already. Several times over the past 50 years, searchers have picked up radio signals that flashed once or twice, then disappeared. The best known of these is called the 'Wow' signal, because that's what an astronomer who picked it up wrote on a printout from a radio telescope at Ohio State University in the 1970s. SETI searchers went back to the star in question immediately, but heard nothing. It may well be, suggests Benford, that we detected extraterrestrials more than three decades ago — and because we weren't taking into account what E.T. would do, failed to confirm it."

All this is great stuff: food for thought, grist for the mill, and confirmation that we -- all the contributors -- done a good thing with the publication of Is Anybody Out There? to commemorate the 50th anniversary of the SETI project.

Readercon Recap

As I wrote in a previous blog post, Readercon 21 was the official book launch for my anthology Is Anybody Out There? which I co-edited with Nick Gevers for Daw Books.

When I saw the programming schedule for the convention I became quite apprehensive: the book launch was scheduled for 2:00 p.m. on Friday, July 9. I repeat: a Friday afternoon -- a workday, following a three-day holiday weekend. When I shared my concern earlier that Friday with contributing author Paul Di Filippo, he essentially told me to have faith: he said the Thursday evening panels were well attended and Fridays have historically been well-attended at Readercon as well.

I had flown the JetBlue red-eye direct from San Jose to Boston, leaving at 9:10 p.m. Thursday evening and arriving in Boston around 5:30 a.m. Friday -- a five-and-a-half-hour flight, but the loss of an entire night. By the time I arrived at the Marriott and checked in, it was nearly 7:00 a.m. Shortly after arriving, I made my way to the convention area, and posted flyers that I had printed to advertise the book launch. I taped these to a couple con tabletops, spread them across the tops of three hallway console tables, and placed the remaining flyers in the freebie handouts section. I knew that con attendees would arrive Friday afternoon -- and most likely head straight for the dealers room; I wanted to catch their attention in time for the event.

I arrived at the meeting room for the book launch about fifteen minutes early. A panel was still in session, so at the 1:55 p.m. mark I opened the door and gave the panelists the "time" sign. With me in the hallway were a dozen other people whom I assumed --  hoped! -- were also waiting for the book launch. And if all twelve actually attended the launch, then I would be satisfied.

Well, by the time the event actually started, there were more than fifty people in the audience -- and standing room only. (I did a quick headcount and stopped after fifty, though there were still others in the audience.) What was even more rewarding to me, as the organizer and moderator of this event, was the fact that only one person walked out of the panel (at about the fifteen-minute mark) before it ended.

In addition to me and author Paul Di Filippo, contributing authors Yves Meynard and James Morrow were also present.¹

Implanted Memories

I put off a new blog post following my attendance at Readercon because I was waiting for a review of my co-edited anthology Is Anybody Out There? (with Nick Gevers, from Daw Books) to be posted on Tor.com.  But, alas, the review was delayed for various reasons according to the reviewer, and by the time it was posted, I had a flight booked on Southwest Airlines for Southern California. My mother, now 87 years old, had her left knee replaced 18 years ago and it decided to dislocate on the Friday morning that I arrived in Boston for Readercon. She's now in a hospital rehab and we learn this morning whether or not the knee will need to be replaced yet again. [Update: it won't, at least for now.] So I arrived in SoCal to keep her company and to see what assistance I could provide (like contacting her friends, checking her mail, paying bills, banking, watering plants, etc.).

And here I sit in a Starbucks, with a two-buck cup of coffee, taking advantage of the free wifi.

I realize that this blog has always been dedicated to the art of editing, and publishing, and authors and their books, but please indulge me for now.

I've been staying in my mother's house these past few days, a house that we purchased in Anaheim when I was 15 years old. It's a long walk -- but as a kid you don't mind -- from Disneyland where I used to hang out on Saturday nights when there was always a band, lots of dancing -- and girls. As I unpacked my suitcase to hang my shirts up in the closet, I noticed on a shelf all the family photograph albums. A couple evenings later I decided to look through one of those albums and found the photograph included here. [Note: I just realized I have no way to scan and upload this pic at this time, so even though I'm writing this blog now -- it's just after 8:00 a.m. Friday morning -- I won't be able to post it until after I arrive home; if not Saturday evening, then Sunday. Sigh....]

Yes, 'tis I in this photograph. I'm guessing I'm around 3 years old. Unfortunately the photo isn't dated; in fact, none of the photos I found are dated, which is truly sad. The photo was taken at the first house my parents owned, in McKeesport, Pennsylvania, in an area of the city called "Tenth Ward." Sounds ominous, doesn't it. A bricked alleyway can be seen on the other side of the fence on which I cling. And the building that you see on the other side of the alleyway is a bakery. My mother has told me this story so many times that it is now one of my memories, as if I remember the dialogue and events myself, in my own mind. I'm sure all of you have such "implanted memories" from your parents, or grandparents, possibly even friends.

The story goes that my grandfather came by the house one afternoon (more in a bit about my grandparents), and when I saw him I started swearing -- most famously, repeating the words "son of a bitch." My grandfather became outraged and accused my mother (his daughter) and father (it was a weekday, and my father was at work) of teaching me such words. She insisted that neither she nor Al (my father, obviously) spoke these words in front of the children (I had a sister who was 5 years older). Her worst transgression was saying the word "hell" on occasion. Well, my mother's insistence barely appeased my grandfather. As the story goes, a few days later, my mother and grandfather were with me in the backyard, when to their surprise they heard -- emanating from one of the open bakery windows -- a voice shouting: "You son of a bitch, if you don't do it this way I'm gonna...." And of course, you guessed it, as soon as they heard that shout, I started repeating the words "son of a bitch, son of a bitch" over and over again.

So my grandfather walked over to the bakery, asked to speak to the workers. He told them to shout some obscenities by the open window, and then watch the reaction from the little boy across the alley!

At least everyone learned the true source of the naughty words!

June Links & Things

You have hopefully noticed my More Red Ink header change -- a new logo. At BayCon over Memorial Day weekend, I participated on a panel with Lee Moyer, an illustrator and graphic designer. We chatted briefly before the end of the con, and exchanged business cards -- at which point I admitted that I needed a new business card (referring, as I was, to the schlocky design on my existing card). To make a long story short, Lee designed a new biz card for me, and with some tweaking on his part, I was able to use the basic logo design for the header on my blog. That BayCon panel, by the way, was entitled "Judging a Cover by Its Book."

Also, I have added two new pages to the blog, you'll see them just above the start of this post. One is "Is Anybody Out There?" which lists all of the blog posts that specifically pertain to this anthology, including the six stories I posted in their entirety. The second page is entitled "Authors and Their Books" and lists all of my author-specific blog posts.

I should note here, too, that I just completed reading a book entitled Appetite for Self-Destruction: The Spectacular Crash of the Record Industry in the Digital Age by Steve Knopper (Free Press, 2009). This book should be mandatory reading for executives and upper management in the (New York specifically) book publishing, marketing, and distribution businesses.

Here are my links and such for the month of June. I've listed them here, with additional detail and comment. You can receive these links in real time by following me on Twitter: @martyhalpern.

• The final volume in Matthew Hughes's trilogy of Henghis Hapthorn tales -- Hespira -- has finally been published by Night Shade Books. The first two titles in the series, Majestrum and The Spiral Labyrinth, were published in 2006 and 2007 respectively. Hapthorn is a discriminator (investigator) by profession, and to appreciate Hughes's characterization and world building, imagine if Jack Vance had written the Sherlock Holmes stories, and Holmes' investigations took him to other planets. Wonderful stuff. Hapthorn uses intellect and reason to solve crimes and resolve issues, but in The Spiral Labyrinth we learned that "sympathetic association" (magic) was slowly becoming the dominant force, and Hapthorn was doing his best to survive in a changing world in which he did not fit. Mark Rose at Bookgasm reviewed Hespira earlier this month: "In this tale, Hapthorn accidentally stumbles into a woman who has lost all of her memories. She has no idea who she is, nor any thoughts about her past or future. Hapthorn, though decidedly not interested in her in a romantic way, feels obligated to protect her somehow and, in turn, find out her identity. What follows is a picaresque adventure as he slowly ferrets out certain details that help him discover her origins, all of which of course leads him and his companions into grave danger.... Hughes has the panache to put all of this across to the reader without it seeming made up along the way. There is much to like here in this series, and here's hope that more books are on the way." [Note: I edited the Tales of Henghis Hapthorn series by Matthew Hughes for Night Shade Books.]

• When I read a character name like "Henghis Hapthorn" I tend to wonder how the author came up with this name. There are some great character names in the sf/fantasy genre: Indiana Jones, Luke Skywalker, Leto Atreides, and Gandalf, to name just four that immediately come to mind. So I was pleased to see a blog post by RasoirJ entitled "Much in a Name." After listing a group of well-known character names, Ras writes: "The characters listed here do have something in common, though. Their names fit, and very nicely indeed. Admittedly, there's a certain circularity in my argument. It's hard to say whether Jake Barnes seems so right for the character because we're exceedingly familiar with the great novel in which he appears, The Sun Also Rises, or whether the name Jake Barnes is a small but crucial element in the interwoven artistry of a great novel." Ras goes on to break down the name "Jake Barnes" to determine how Hemingway may have come up with the name. Other sections in this article include: discussions on "It's easy to go too far with a name" and "How is a writer to come up with good names?" (via @AdviceToWriters)
  

Is Anybody Out There? -- Book Launch

The official book launch for my anthology Is Anybody Out There? (with Nick Gevers, from Daw Books, June 1) is now set for Readercon.

The book launch -- scheduled for Friday, July 9, at 2:00 pm -- will be one of the programming events at Readercon, the Boston area's annual "imaginative literature" convention, held at the Burlington Marriott, July 8-11.

In addition to myself, these other Readercon regulars will be participating in the event: Paul Di Filippo, Yves Meynard, and James Morrow; though not a scheduled Readercon guest this year, Alex Irvine is hoping to attend the convention as well, and will also be participating in this event. (I'm counting on you being there, Alex!) If you will be attending Readercon next month -- or just happen to be in the neighborhood of the Boston/Burlington Marriott on Friday, July 9 -- please do join us at 2:00 pm in Room ME/CT.

I just realized that the six stories I posted online from the anthology were not written by any of the authors who will be participating in the book launch event. Interesting how that worked out! Totally unplanned, honest! So this is a great opportunity to meet each of these authors, hear them talk about the genesis of their stories, and then read a snippet from their stories as well. And if you just happen to have copies of Is Anybody Out There? in hand, the five of us will gladly sign those copies for you. [Copies of the the anthology will be available for purchase in the Dealers Room from Larry Smith; copies will also be available for purchase at the event itself.]

This year at Readercon, the Guests of Honor are Charles Stross and Nalo Hopkinson. Charlie's newest Laundry Files novel -- The Fuller Memorandum -- will be available within a couple weeks. As readers of this blog may recall from an earlier post of mine entitled "Charles Stross: On Her Majesty's Occult Service," I had a wee bit of a hand in the editing of this very fine book. It will be great to see Charlie once again (the last time was in 2002 at ConJosé, the 60th World Science Fiction Convention), and hopefully we will be able to spend some time chatting together. (Charlie is currently working on the next Laundry Files novel, The Apocalypse Codex, but don't let him know I told you!)

But all that aside, I hope to see you at Readercon on Friday, July 9, at 2:00 pm, for the official launch of Is Anybody Out There? If you are new to this anthology, if you haven't been reading about it on this blog, if you haven't read the six stories I have posted from the book, then the best place to begin is right here -- a dedicated page I've set up on which you'll find links to all the blog posts, including the stories.

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"Residue" by Michael Arsenault

The following story -- "Residue" -- will be the sixth, and final, story to be posted here from my co-edited anthology (with Nick Gevers) Is Anybody Out There? recently published by Daw Books. I hope these stories have intrigued you enough to purchase a copy of the book -- either the mass market paperback edition or the Kindle ebook edition, or both! The anthology contains an additional 9 original stories, by (in order of appearance) Alex Irvine, Yves Meynard, Mike Resnick and Lezli Robyn, Paul Di Filippo, Ray Vukcevich, Matthew Hughes, Ian Watson, Felicity Shoulders and Leslie What, and James Morrow (a nearly 9,000-word story), plus an introduction by Paul McAuley. So there is a lot more reading to be had in the book, and I believe you'll find the quality of these stories easily warrant multiple readings. But enough of the promotion....

In 2002, while working on the Witpunk anthology, co-editor Claude Lalumière sent me a story entitled "A Halloween Like Any Other," written by Michael Arsenault, an author with whom I had no familiarity, or even knowledge of, at the time. Claude asked that I consider the story for our anthology, which I did, and the story was accepted. I learned much later that Claude had attended a party at which Michael had "performed" (Michael's word) the story; that's how Claude came by the story initially.

So, if not for Claude, Michael and I would never have met -- virtually speaking, that is -- and I wouldn't have invited him to contribute a story to the anthology Is Anybody Out There? and Nick and I would not have seen this wonderful little gem of a story -- "Residue."¹

About "Residue," Michael writes: "While on a camping trip, I decided to take a late-night canoe ride. I paddled out to the middle of the lake and then looked up at the sky. It was hard not to notice the difference between this view and the one I had back in the city. Out here I could actually see the stars. Back at home, even on a cloudless night, I'd be hard pressed to spot more than a dozen, but that night, on that lake, I could see thousands twinkling up there. In order to take it all in, I lay down on the bottom of the boat and looked up. Positioned like that I had an unobstructed view, and this, coupled with the gentle rocking of the canoe in the water, began to make me feel weightless. As if gravity had let go of its hold on me and I might start floating up at any moment -- an entirely new sensation for me. One I didn't care for even a little. My stomach churned and my sense of balance abandoned me completely. Frankly, it was a miracle I managed to hang on to my dinner. In the end, at least one good thing came of that experience: it inspired the mood and setting of my story 'Residue.' Not the lake part, nor so much the feeling ill part, but the general sense of wonder and awe that comes with proper stargazing. So maybe, hopefully, all that queasiness was worth it in the end."

Residue

by Michael Arsenault

      They went outside, lay down on the grass, and looked up at the stars.

      Everything was quiet for about a minute, and then:

      "So…"

      "So?"

      "So what are we doing out here?"

      "We're… Nothing. We're just out here."

      "Why?"

      "I don't know. If you really need a reason I guess we could say we're communing with nature. Or something."

      "Since when do we do that?"

      "Since…tonight. Since right now."

      "This doesn't sound like you. Why are you being weird?"

      "I just want to be outside for a little while, okay? Out of the house and away from distractions."

      "What distractions?"

      "Lots of things. Television, for instance."

      "What's wrong with TV?"

      "Nothing, just God forbid it should ever be turned off while we're conscious."

      "You're touchy all of a sudden."

      "Look, I just want to lie here, have a moment of peace, and see if I can connect with something. Stare up into the sky, and, I don't know…ponder the meaning of the universe. What's so weird about that?"

      "It's not like you."

      "Fine. It's not like me. I'm different now."

      "I think I feel bugs crawling up my legs."

      "Maybe you should just go back inside."

      "Don't be so --"

      "No one's forcing you to stay out here."

      "I'm not…"

      "You're not what?"

      "I'm doing my best, okay? I'm trying."

      "I guess."

      "…Do you…?"

      "Do I what?"

      "Don't bite my head off. I was just going to ask if you know any of their names."

      "Whose names?"

      "The stars. The planets. The…whatever those patterns are called."

      "The constellations?"

      "Yeah."

      "No. Don't really know their names. I mean, of course I know some of them, but I don't know which is which."

      "Me neither. I never really thought much about it before, but now that we're here looking up I feel kind of ignorant."

      "You're not ignorant."

      "I feel that way. Ignorant. Not to mention insignificant."

      "Looking up at the sky can do that to a person."

"Where Two or Three" by Sheila Finch (Part 3 of 3)

Where Two or Three

by Sheila Finch

[Continued from Part 2]

The sun was setting as they entered the outskirts of Palm Springs, a fuzzy red beach ball sinking into hazy waves of low-lying smog. Maddie was tired from driving in heavy traffic. Sam had slept most of the way. Now he woke and struggled upright.

"You want to eat something?" she asked as they passed a coffee shop.

"No. Go on through the city."

"How much farther are we going?" The Tesla was new enough to have an efficient fuel cell system, but there was still a limit on how far it could go without a recharge. Since she'd never had the chance to drive it this far, she had no idea what that limit was. The battery's indicator bars remained in the safe zone, but for how much longer?

"Just outside the city, you're going to make a left."

And then what? She kept the thought to herself because he obviously wouldn't answer anyway. She gazed at the people strolling from boutiques where golden light spilled out onto the sidewalk to restaurants whose banners pronounced them award-winning. Maddie retracted her window and the car filled with the aroma of barbecue and garlic and the faint sounds of music. Her stomach rumbled.

"Oblivious," Sam said. "All of them. It's going right through them and they're oblivious!"

"What?"

"You too. And me. And worst of all, NASA and SETI. Turn left at the next light."

The lights and sounds of Palm Springs fell away as they took the narrow dirt road across the desert floor rising slowly toward the nearby hills. The sky was filled with misty rose and lavender light, and the tops of the Little San Bernardinos looked as if they'd been draped in glowing chiffon.

"Pull off here."

Tiredness flooded through her. This was without question the stupidest thing she'd done in her life. Sam scrambled out of the car without help, yanking the duffel bag behind him. In the twilight, he looked spidery and strange, like an alien himself. She yawned and reached to turn off the engine.

"Leave it running," he said. "I need a power supply."

He rummaged through the bag, pulling objects out and setting them down on the sand. She got out of the car.

"Here." He handed her a pair of field glasses. "You might as well look at the stars while I'm getting set up."

She took the glasses out of their case. She could see Venus in the west already, and other pinpricks of light were beginning to show against the rapidly darkening sky. Her father had taught her to recognize the major constellations and nebula clusters and most of the minor ones too.

"Easier at night," Sam said.

"What is?"

"Listening."

Did he mean the kind of signals SETI was listening for? That would be dumb, she thought; the stars were there even when we didn't see them. "What difference does darkness make to messages coming from way across the universe?"

"I meant for us!" he said testily. "Less distractions."

"Where Two or Three" by Sheila Finch (Part 2 of 3)

Where Two or Three

by Sheila Finch

[Continued from Part 1]

She couldn't stop thinking about Sam. Of course Daddy would find out if she took him for a ride in the car! And even if she did get the keys, she certainly shouldn't be driving all the way to Palm Springs, the only part of the desert she knew how to get to. By Monday morning she was roaming around the silent house as antsy as if it were the first day of school in a new place.

Who did that old guy think he was, anyway?

That was a question she could find the answer to.

Daddy had gone to the airport on his way to a two-day SETI conference on the east coast; Mom had driven up to Santa Barbara to see Grandma, who'd suddenly taken ill, and she planned to stay the night. Maddie was on her own.

She went into the study to use the computer. It didn't take long to learn that Samuel Coulter Ferenzi had once been famous. And that there was something really odd about the dates.

He'd been the first astronaut to rendezvous with an asteroid, she read, a feat no one else had repeated in the twenty years since. She skipped over the voyage and its mission. When the crew came back to Earth, there'd been a huge welcome parade. Ferenzi had given speeches at universities. He'd cut the ribbons opening Air & Space Museums. The tabloids had buzzed over his romance with a movie star. Then things had apparently gone wrong.

The phone beeped. She touched the pad for the study extension. "Parker residence."

"What're your plans for today, Madison?" her father's voice asked.

Just like that, she thought. No: How are you, sweetie? No: I hope you're not bored all by yourself? that anybody else's dad might've asked. Sounded like he'd given up on her already; she really resented that. "I'm putting in my hours at the hospice like I'm supposed to!"

He'd taken her cell too, as if he thought she'd be putting in a call to her supplier.

"Don't get snarky with me, young lady!" Daddy said. "Be home before dark."

"Sure."

"My plane's boarding. See you in a couple of days."

Maddie turned the phone off before he put any more conditions on her. It wasn't fair. Maybe she should've done something that would really deserve it, not just a couple of puffs off a joint someone handed her. And it hadn't even given her much of a buzz!

She turned her attention back to the monitor. Ferenzi had started acting strangely. Several hospital stays had followed; one article mentioned psychiatric care. On the tenth page of citations, she found a tabloid headline: Spaceman sees aliens. Bride calls off wedding. The date was puzzling, only a little more than twenty years ago. Too recent to fit the old man in the hospice bed.

Maddie exited the program and thought about what she had just read. Chances were, Sam was crazy. Why did he want to go to the desert? And more important, why should she risk being grounded for the entire school year to take him there? She'd be as crazy as he was to do it.

A flicker of movement on the computer's monitor attracted her attention; the screen saver had activated. She stared at the ballet of spinning galaxies and soaring cloudlike nebulae her father had installed. He was involved with the SETI program at JPL, but it wasn't something he talked about much. Not because it was secret, Maddie knew, but because the results were so disappointing. She wondered if he knew about Sam Ferenzi. Her father thought people who claimed to have seen aliens cheapened the real search for extraterrestrial intelligence.

The old man seemed so lonely. At least she could take him for a short drive around Pasadena. Maybe the change of scenery would do him good.

She knew where her father had put her car keys. He never locked his desk drawer, trusting the members of his household. She felt a twinge of guilt as she retrieved her keys.

# # #

"Where Two or Three" by Sheila Finch (Part 1 of 3)

And another story follows from Is Anybody Out There? (Daw Books, June 1), my co-edited anthology with Nick Gevers. If reading these stories has motivated you to purchase a copy of the anthology, please feel free to post a comment and let me know; or, if you've chosen not to purchase a copy of the anthology after reading the four (so far) posted stories, then please comment on that too. By the way, an ebook edition of Is Anybody Out There? is also available in the Kindle format.

I began freelancing for Jacob Weisman's Tachyon Publications in 2002. In the first part of 2003, Jacob contacted me about a new project: Sheila Finch's novel Reading the Bones. The book was an expansion of Sheila's Nebula Award-winning novella of the same name, originally published in the January 1998 issue of The Magazine of Fantasy & Science Fiction. The novella is part of the author's Xenolinguist (aka "lingster") series of stories. The expanded novel -- to snag a few words from the book's PR -- follows xenolinguist Ries Danyo, and sisters Lita and Jilan Patel, to their pivotal role in shaping the future of the alien Frehti.

Reading the Bones was published in September 2003, just in time for Tachyon's eighth anniversary party held at Borderlands Books in San Francisco on September 14. Sheila Finch was on hand to celebrate the publication of her book, as were Tachyon authors Peter S. Beagle, Grania Davis, Richard Lupoff, Pat Murphy, and Michael Swanwick. Other authors included Kage Baker (a future Tachyon author), Mark Budz, and Marina Fitch.

At the anniversary party, I had the opportunity to meet Sheila Finch¹, and to introduce myself as the person responsible for the editorial work done on Reading the Bones. Fortunately, Sheila was quite pleased with my work on the book, and thus I was able to breathe a sigh of relief, since this was my first major project for Tachyon Publications, and I was hopeful there would be more projects in the future.

And the anthology Is Anybody Out There? again provided me with an opportunity to work with Sheila Finch. With a series of stories dealing with linguistics and alien communication, Sheila, I knew, would add a unique perspective to the Fermi Paradox theme -- and she did not disappoint.

About her story "Where Two or Three," Sheila writes: "I've long thought we're putting the cart before the horse in our search for messages from ET. We haven't solved the difficulty of translating reliably between the languages on Earth, let alone knowing how to communicate with other sentient creatures on our own planet -- cetaceans, for instance. Musicians and music lovers learn to listen to more than one instrument's voice at a time, appreciating that the effect of harmony is more than just the sum of its parts. I initially explored these ideas years ago in 'Sequoia Dreams,'² and have touched on them frequently in the Guild of Xenolinguists series; this story was a chance to come at them from a different angle. And volunteering in a hospice, I hear some pretty amazing stories!"

Where Two or Three

by Sheila Finch

The charge nurse barely paused in her fast trot down the hospice hallway. "Seventeen needs his water jug refilled. Can you get it?"

"I'll get it." Maddie turned back the way she had come. It was her second day as a volunteer -- What a joke! She hadn't volunteered for anything -- but already she was getting the routine. Here, the charge nurse was boss.

She picked up a full plastic jug of ice water from the kitchen and walked back to room seventeen. Like most of the other rooms, it contained a hospital bed with a white coverlet, a straight-back visitor's chair, a battered chest of drawers that had hosted too many patients' belongings. Unlike the others, the occupant or his family hadn't made an effort to personalize the room with family photos, art work, or flowering plants. They hadn't replaced the old 2-D, which probably didn't work any more, with a newer Tri-D either. The hospice cat, a large orange tabby, jumped off the bed when she came in as if his shift was over once a volunteer showed up.

"Hi," she said. "I'm Maddie. I brought your water."

The skinny old man on the bed didn't open his eyes. "Haven't seen you before."

"Only my second day."

He had the most wrinkled skin she'd ever seen, and his face was blotchy as if he'd had a bad sunburn and skinned recently. He had to be at least a hundred, she thought. There was a smell in the room too, not really bad but odd, sort of baby-powdery and musty at the same time. She picked up the empty jug. She definitely did not want to spend time in here.

"Why're you here if you don't like it?"

Maddie jumped. "Would I be here if I didn't?" Lying again, she thought. One of these days she was going to have to break the habit.

He turned his head away from her. The back of his neck was scrawny as a chicken's, and the skin was patchy here too. "Sit and visit."

She sat gracelessly on the edge of the chair by the wall and stared at the old man's neck. "So, what did you used to do?" she asked brightly. Most of the older ones liked to talk about the old days, the younger ones not so much.

"Astronaut," he said.

"Astronaut? You mean, like space and stuff?"

"Space," he said to the wall. "And stuff."

"Have I heard of you?" she asked cautiously.

"Probably not. Name's Sam." He rolled back to face her, surprisingly agile for someone who looked so old. His eyes were a pale, washed-out blue, same color as the jeans she was wearing. "And how did you get sentenced to this place?"

Maddie felt her cheeks grow warm. "I'm a volunteer."

"Crap. Person your age has better things to do than visit old coots like me."

"All right. Here's the truth. I got busted for doing drugs at a party. One rotten joint -- and if I'd been eighteen already like everybody else it would've been legal anyway. So the judge gave me community service."

"Good," Sam said. "I don't have time for lies. What would you rather be doing -- besides being stupid?"

"You really are unpleasant, know that?" she snapped.

He chuckled -- at least she thought that was what he was doing. Maybe he was choking or something. "Didn't they tell you you're supposed to humor me?"

"I'm in high school. I'll be a senior starting next month. I don't get much time to do what I'd rather be doing. But when I do, I play the flute."

"A musician," he said. "Will you play for me?"

"I didn't bring it with me."

"How about next time you come?" He gazed at her with the washed-out eyes. The edges of his lipless old mouth creased up. "Please?"

Why not? The staff encouraged volunteers to entertain the residents any way possible. "Well, maybe when I come back on Friday."

"And maybe I'll tell you about space. And stuff."

Maddie got out of the room before he could say anything else. In the hallway, she passed the charge nurse again.

"Glad to see you spent some time with Mr. Ferenzi. He never gets any visitors." The charge nurse smoothed the pink tunic over her white slacks. "He used to be famous. But something happened to him, and he was never quite right afterwards."

Even if it wasn't true, she thought, it beat spending time with the old biddies here who only wanted her to play cards with them.

# # #

"The Dark Man" by Kristine Kathryn Rusch (Part 3 of 3)

The Dark Man

by Kristine Kathryn Rusch

[Continued from Part 2] 

The alarm brought her out of it a moment later -- or so it seemed. Five a.m. looked the same as midnight had, same darkness, same feel. She got up, turned on the lights, and took a quick shower.

Then she grabbed her equipment bag and headed back to the Spanish Steps.

The morning was cool, comparatively speaking. It had to be about 80 instead of the 100 that had stifled Rome for the past few days. She wondered whether fall would ever show up -- and if it did, whether or not she would recognize it as a brand new season.

She trudged up to the Spanish Steps, noting as she went how many merchants were already up, cleaning the small sidewalks in front of their shops, and rearranging the wares in the window. She bought a pastry from a cart vendor she'd never seen before and ate as she walked, decided that the pastry was so good the vendor probably sold out long before she normally got up.

The carts at the top of the Spanish Steps were still shuttered. The professional beggars hadn't arrived yet. The restaurant tables, full and covered with food when she had left them, were stacked one on top of the other near the restaurant's doors.

A small group of people hovered near the top of the steps, staring at the city unfolding before them. The thin light of dawn seemed brighter than an average day in Colorado, and made Condi feel like she was very, very far from home.

She walked past the group, not seeing anyone she recognized, and headed down the Steps until she was only a few yards from the spot where the figure would turn up.

She set up the video camera she brought, turning it on so that she would get the moment of appearance. She would also make a recording on her phone as a backup.

The rest of the equipment remained in the bag. She would only remove it if she needed it.

She sat on her perch, the travertine steps surprisingly cool through her khaki pants, and waited. She wanted the figure to appear. She needed it to appear. She didn't want to wait several more days for some kind of phenomenon that, until this point (at least for her), had only existed in artists' renderings.

Then Giuseppe sat down beside her, too close as usual. He wore a cologne as peppery as the wine had been the night before, and just as strong. Clearly he had just gotten up as well.

"So," she said, irritated that he was sitting so close, irritated that he had frightened her the night before, irritated that he continued to bother her, "you guys think this is aliens, huh?"

He looked at her in surprise. She had a hunch that was the first unguarded expression she had ever seen on his face.

"You think I can't do research?" she asked. "I had simply thought you guys were a rumor until last night."

She didn't want to tell him she hadn't heard of his group until he had talked to her a few hours ago.

He didn't say anything. She pulled out her phone, cupping it in her right hand.

"What do you think this is," she asked, "some kind of portal and the aliens send one guy to it every ten years or so? Is this an invading army that hasn't quite got the concept down?"

She didn't try to cover the sarcasm in her voice.

"Not aliens," he said. "Alien."