Well, then

So that midterm that I totally thought I tanked?

I got an A-.

To come

I'm compiling a list of the do's and do not's when it comes to submitting an unsolicited manuscript to a publisher.

I didn't quite realize how much I'd picked up just by reading slush; the list is growing at a rate that surprises even me.

I figure I'll post it here so I can remember what to do and what not to do when I'm on the other side of the snail mail. And also, of course, so it can help any others out there thinking of cold submitting a manuscript.

So fun! There are some really good do's and do not's.

It'll probably be up some time after the semester.

A recommendation

Before I started my internship at Tor I had never even heard of Ted Chiang. Then, one day at work, while I was complaining about the paucity of literary science fiction, one of the staffers rolled off a list of names I should check out.

Properly chastened, I did indeed check out some of those names.

A few days later, that staffer handed me a collection of short stories. Underneath the author's name was the impressive accolade of 'Two-Time Nebula Award Winner'. For those not into sci-fi, the Nebula, along with the Hugo, is one of the highest awards given to sci-fi writers. Collectively, the Nebula and Hugo are like the Golden Globes and Oscars of sci-fi and fantasy.

So I took the book home, shelved it between some other books I hadn't read yet, and continued reading John Scalzi's "The Android's Dream".

After finishing that and "The Martian Child", I started reading Marion Zimmer Bradley's "Ghostlight". I did not, and do not, like what I've read to date. So I put it aside, and, skimming the books I hadn't read yet, started the staffer's gift.

The collection is called "Stories of Your Life and Others". It contains eight short stories, including Chiang's first published work, "Tower of Babylon", which opens the collection. I liked "Tower of Babylon". The writing was assured, the story was great, and the style and substance of the piece worked together. Often you read something that doesn't seem written right - the story is great, and the writing is great, but the structure just doesn't seem to fit. I'm thinking specifically of last year's collection of "Best American Short Stories", which featured far too many 'slice of life' stories written exactly like that - beginning on one day and continuing chronologically, and ending on another day - without giving consideration to the topical content of the story.

But this was not the case with "Tower of Babylon". The story is about a group of men who build the tower, spending decades so that they can break through the literal vault of heaven. As for the form of the story, it begins with detailed descriptions of closely-spaced days, then widens to generally cover long expanses of time. Then, as the men reach the vault, the description narrows to closely-spaced days again. This perfectly captured the experience of such an endeavor, I thought.

But while I liked "Tower of Babylon", I wasn't completely sold. The writing was assured, but there wasn't a musicality to it. In the best writing, I think, you can hear music in the way the words are put together; sentences transcend grammar and punctuation and general clumsiness, and almost achieve the dimensions and sinuosity of feelings. I felt that way while reading "The Line of Beauty", and also "A Home at the End of World". I didn't feel that while reading "Tower of Babylon".

But I did while reading "Understand".

The second story of the collection, "Understand" is about a man who receives a life-changing injection. I don't want to spoil the plot, because everything that happens after that is part of the sickening beauty of the story, and in any case is not what this post is about. What really knocked me over was the way the story is told. How the words flow into one another, and how each sentence fits into the whole. And the final revelation of the story's title, how perfectly that is written.

After reading "Understand", I was completely sold.

There will always be people that I admire but don't really get. I admire Robert Jordan, but reading "The Wheel of Time" is like listening to disjointed machinery. Ted Chiang, on the other hand... I believe I am a convert.

And now, to end this post, an edited blurb for "Stories of Your Life and Others":

"...What if men built a tower from Earth to Heaven - and broke through to Heaven's other side? What if we discovered that the fundamentals of mathematics were arbitrary and inconsistent? What if there were a science to naming things that calls life into being from inanimate matter? What if exposure to an alien language forever changed our perception of time? What if all the beliefs of fundamentalist Christianity were literally true, and the sight of sinners being swallowed into pits were a routine event on city streets?"

So exciting!

Earlier in my internship with Tor, I came across a slush manuscript that I really liked. I gave it to my fellow interns to read, and they really liked it as well.

So last Friday we gave it to our supervisor, and sold it like hell.

And our supervisor read it over the weekend, and liked it. And she's passed it on to a full-time editor.

And on Thursday we get to be there when she runs the manuscript through a Profit and Liability program (a program that basically predicts the dollars and cents of the book).

And if that turns out okay - which it hopefully will - and if the editor likes it enough - I'll have helped a person get published!

If that's not exciting, I don't know what is.

The outline went through several changes, each more major than the last, so basically anything I've said about it is probably no longer extant. Here's the summary; comments are of course very welcome:

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Six months before the 2006 Singapore general elections, grocery shop owner Chua Wen Ching takes a short trip to England. There she answers a summons and then a plea, and helps a man commit suicide by hanging. The man is Seymour Hollander, a friend made in Singapore 61 years earlier, in the tumultuous months after the end of the Japanese Occupation. At first Wen Ching does not regret helping Seymour end his pathetic life, but then she sees his room, and pieces together his life after Singapore. By the time her return flight lands in Singapore, she has made a decision: she will not continue with her secret job with the government - as Singapore's executioner.

Her decision immediately creates a ripple effect. Two days after her return, a scheduled execution is not completed - she simply does not show up at the gallows. Pleas and threats go unheard. Finally, an executioner is flown in from abroad, and the convict is hung. At the same time, the government assigns a young bonded scholar to take care of the problem, to persuade Wen Ching to return to her job, or to find a permanent local replacement.

Robert Wang goes to see Wen Ching at her home, convinced that he can persuade her to return. He fails, and in the process arouses the suspicions of her young adult son. Robert lies to Patrick that he is simply a friend of Wen Ching's, a lie Wen Ching later corroborates.

Meanwhile, Wen Ching's guilt about the executions over the years has begun to build to an unbearable point. The encounter with Robert Wang pushes her over the tipping point, and a day after the encounter she decides she has to do something, anything. She seizes upon penance as her 'out', and decides to leave immediately, to apologize in person to all the families of the executed.

Patrick, bewildered by his mother's secretive and odd behavior, surreptitiously finds a contact left by Robert. He calls Robert after Wen Ching leaves for the airport. The two rush to the airport to stop Wen Ching from leaving, but they are too late and she has gone past the gates.

Robert is frustrated, and Patrick a little frightened, and in their respective states the two men connect. Robert continues to lie to Patrick about his mother; Patrick recognizes and exposes the lies, but backs off when Robert says that it is ultimately his mother's secret; it is her decision whether she wants to reveal it to him. By the time Robert drops Patrick off at the latter's home, the two are straddling the line between complete strangers and friends.

With Wen Ching gone for an indeterminate time, Robert assembles possible replacements. But no one is willing to take the job - it is no longer 1945. Batch after batch of people refuse; Robert begins to despair of ever finding a replacement executioner.

Then he receives another phone call from Patrick. Patrick has heard from his absentee mother, and she will not be returning soon. She did, however, give Robert permission to tell Patrick everything. Stressed and needing an outlet, Robert agrees to meet Patrick.

During the course of a dinner, Robert tells Patrick everything, from the history of Wen Ching's job, to her sudden volte-face, to his own involvement in the whole sorry mess. Patrick listens and listens and listens, shocked but keeping it to himself. After dinner Robert drives Patrick home; at the end of the drive Patrick suddenly kisses him. Robert is not exactly shocked; he asks Patrick for a favor.

As the two men go through Wen Ching's room, she is in England once again. She goes to meet Seymour Hollander's brother, and tells him of Seymour's past in Singapore. Although officially stationed in Singapore as a soldier, Seymour was given the job of executioner. She became his assistant in the months after the occupation, mainly because she needed the money, and she 'graduated' to executioner when the British left. She thought she could be different; she thought she could disassociate; but in the end she is no different from Seymour. She apologizes for her role in Seymour's death.

Alexander Hollander throws her out.

Back in Singapore, the search turns up little of use. As pressure from the top steadily mounts, Robert is forced to admit that he has no solution.

The government, concerned with the looming election, assigns Doris Chua to the mess. After assessing the situation, Doris recommends a simple solution: offer the position to Robert.

Robert is offered carrots at first, if he agrees to take the job. But when he refuses, the carrots turn to sticks: with four years left on his bond, life could be made very difficult for him. After Doris tells him to think about the carrots and sticks very carefully, Robert realizes that the government's guiding principle is pragmatism. When Robert tells Doris so, Doris points out that Robert took the scholarship for equally pragmatic reasons. Caught out, Robert leaves without giving Doris an answer.

As Robert comes to terms with the possible benefits of taking the job, and his conflicting feelings about any decision, Patrick notices Robert becoming increasingly tense. Robert denies that anything is wrong, and lies that he has been taken off the task of finding a replacement. Their relationship begins to suffer, and the tension comes to a head when they have sex one night: the roughness caused by the strain segues into an impromptu BDSM session, and that - consciously or otherwise - transitions to erotic asphyxiation. But Robert can't do it - even under mock circumstances he can't bring himself to strangle someone.

And now Patrick knows that he has been offered the job.

Robert leaves, and the two men each struggle alone with the implications of Robert taking or refusing the job. After days, Patrick makes a decision. He contacts his mother, and begs her to return to her job. When she refuses, mother and son get into a huge fight, and Patrick challenges the good that she thinks she's doing with her penitential pilgrimage.

Wen Ching is shaken by her fight with Patrick, and she comes to see that she's only fooling herself into thinking her apologies will change anything. She eventually returns to Singapore, and seeks out Robert.

Wen Ching and Robert speak to each other honestly about the job. Wen Ching tells Robert that neither of them have to do it; perhaps the only good thing that has come out of her experience, is that she can advocate against it from a personal standpoint. She suggests the possibility of both of them refusing, and of making the matter large enough to attract the public's notice. On the cusp of the elections, perhaps what they have to say can abolish executions altogether. Robert considers, but does not give her an answer.

After that conversation, Robert goes to Patrick, and the two fight again about Patrick's interference with the matter. Patrick finally tells Robert that it seems like he's made his decision, and Robert has no answer. Robert tells Patrick that perhaps the only reason he agreed to be involved at all in the first place was that he knew there would be a reward at the end. Patrick has no answer to this; he simply tells Robert not to take the job.

Another execution is about to take place. The convict goes through the rituals of the day, and it's unclear whether Robert will be a part of them. It seems like he may not have agreed to take the job, but then, at the last possible moment, he turns up at the gallows.

After the execution, when Robert leaves the gallows and then the compound, Patrick is waiting. Robert was not expecting him. After a few moments, Patrick goes to Robert and hugs him. Robert receives the hug. And then they walk in silence for a while.

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And that's the end of the book.

Seen on Craigslist:

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Hello! I am looking for an attractive female, preferably a model, who would be able to seduce my boyfriend. In short, our relationship is not going well and I need a solid reason to break it off.

If you are interested, please let me know. The pay is negotiable. Thanks!


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I was actually looking for a job. In the talent section.

Short and sweet

So. "Ender's Game"? Love.

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