Michael Jackson and The Alien Within

I've a personal anecdote concerning Michael Jackson. Years ago, my grandmother took us granddaughters on a cultural tour of the Far East. Okay, it was really an extended shopping trip, but we did do some cultural stuff. Anyway, we went to China on a day trip, and one of the stops was to see a "typical" Chinese village and then tour a "typical" Chinese home. So we were taken to this woman's house, and once we reached the parlor, we noticed a framed photograph of our hostess and Michael Jackson. Needless to say, we made some noise about it. When our hostess saw our interest, through our interpreter she asked whether we knew him. Well, of course not, but then we told her who he is, and so on. At one point, she interrupted and the interpreter told us she wanted to know why we kept referring to Michael as "her". Well, we said, it's because he's a man, not a woman. Our hostess shook her head. We nodded. She shook her head. We kept nodding. When she finally decided we were telling the truth, her eyes grew absolutely huge. She kept looking from the photo and then to us, and back to the photo. She looked at the picture one more time, then turned and with a wink, grinned at us as if we'd just let her in on a great big secret.

I'd have loved to have told Michael this story. I wish I had.

So--what does MJJ have to do with TAW? Well, when I was writing it, I wrote it with a soundtrack in mind, in case it was turned into a movie. When I finished it, I checked the songs I'd included and most of them were Michael's. I saw that, and decided that when TAW is made into a movie, I will give especial credit to Michael for writing the soundtrack.

One more thing...did I ever tell you that I'm going to make TAW into a movie?

Stay tuned.

And Now For Something Completely Different...

Been watching a lot of Monty Python on Netflix lately. I'm happy to report they are just as hilarious to me now as they were when I was introduced to them forty years ago. MP was always on late at night, so I'd sneak downstairs after mom put me to bed and watch it with my dad (the same guy who introduced me to Dr. Who). Sometimes he even let me stay up on school nights. We never told mom.

Now that you know our secret, I'll have to kill you.

So a few weeks ago I did something I've never done before--entered a photograph in a competition. Mind you, I'm no photographer. In fact, I suck at it. But every so often, I'll take a shot that comes out so perfect I think I couldn't have been the one who took it.

Here's the shot. I call it "Holiday Blues."

The Power Of...

You fill in the blank. And please, no Huey Lewis and the News, okay?

At the moment I'm thinking of the power of my pocketbook. I'm finally convinced I have to bite the bullet and get a new analyst. My computer, that is. I won't go into the story of how it happened, but Dr. Compaq and I have been together for a long time. I like my machine. But ever since that damned virus...well, I need a new machine and my pocketbook is telling me it'll have to wait. But Dr. Compaq has developed a habit of crashing right when I'm in the mid

Just kidding. This time, anyway.

So...what is power, really? Is it just the fact you can smash someone to bits if you feel like it and everybody knows it? Or is it something a bit more subtle? I think the essence of power lies not so much in what you can do as it does in what the other fellow thinks you can do. Take the IRS. Today, the chances of an individual being audited are pretty slim (though that might change in the future). But what is it that keeps you honest when calculating the tax you owe, or the refund due? (No snickering, please). We all know the hell the Service puts people through when they're audited. I'm going to assume that most of us are honest when it comes to declaring income and deductions (no snickering, please) but do we do it because it's the right thing to do, or because there's that one chance, however small, that we might end up in IRS Audit Hell? More than that, IRS audit manuals aren't exactly on the bestseller's tables in your local bookstore. That's assuming they're available to the public at all. Anyway, are you honest because you don't know the criteria an examiner uses in flagging a return for a closer look? For all you know, they might choose returns by sacrificing goats. So is it the fear of what the Service could do if it decides to check your return that keeps you honest, rather than the fear of that it will?

That's the question I'm trying to answer with respect to Kurt. No, not his taxes--he's got enough lawyers at his disposal to keep the IRS at bay for eternity (unlike most of us). But the tryst did something to him. His vampire regent's abilities have been lessened--not gone, but lessened (I'm still figuring out how much). And the tryst itself--all concur that it didn't work very well on the city's humans. But it worked well enough so that zots have a bit more confidence in remaining alive if they're discovered. So Kurt's in danger of losing his iron grip over Seattle's zots, unless he can show them he's just as badass as he was before. And if he isn't...

Can the power of prestige keep Kurt on top? Even though he no longer has the vampire regent's powers he exhibited in TAW? Like the IRS, Kurt is hated and feared by other zots based on their collective past experiences. Will the past be enough to sustain Kurt's hold over the city's zots?

I'll let you know. But meanwhile, what are your thoughts about power--what it is, what it isn't?

Continuing Education

Still working my way through the software tutorial for building a website. It's not that hard, especially since it doesn't involve learning html. For me, it's really more a matter of getting used to it--I mean, building websites is not something I do every day. Or any day.

Eventually, what I'd like to do is put up an animated banner with Melera's eyes staring at you from the screen. Say, a three-quarter shot spanning just below the bridge of her nose to her hairline. Slit-pupiled, golden eyes that seem to spin and sparkle like twin disco balls. And every so often, she'll blink.

I described Melera's eyes to one sf/f/h fan and her first reaction was "creepy!" After I thought about it, I realized she was right. To some people, Melera would seem creepy. It's that reptilian aura she carries. Makes sense, considering her people are descended from giant lizards.

Horror Story

Know what I love about Stephen King? Not his prose, though he sometimes strings together some memorable ones, like the guy who watched his wife's blood "run away red into the night," or something like that. No, what's wonderful about him is that he can take something totally ordinary and turn it into something totally horrifying. Take a pair of wind-up clacking teeth, the kind you buy in novelty stores. Or a pair of sneakers. Read what ol' Steve does with these and I guarantee that every time you look at those oh-so-humdrum everyday things you'll always be reminded of what they could become if you turn that cosmic corner--a nightmare from which you can't, and will never wake up.

It happened to me, once. Seriously.

Remember the novella/TV movie Langoliers? The one about the jet turning that cosmic corner and flying into yesterday? Remember the crazy dude who ripped paper into shreds in order to calm himself? Well, one day I had to go with my then-boss to this meeting. I was sitting across the table from him. Halfway through the meeting, my boss flips open his notepad to the last page and starts slowly tearing it into little strips, just like that guy in the movie. Scared me down to my drawers, especially since I'd just watched it (pretty good, Hollywood didn't mess it up). Scarier still, later that day not only did I have to get on a plane, I had to get on a plane with him...

But nothing happened after all that. The jet didn't fly into yesterday, and my boss didn't turn into a crazed murderer. In other words, I got to wake up.

That's what Stephen King does to you. And that's why, IMHO, he's so good.

The Neon Rain

Re-read The Neon Rain by James Lee Burke last night. It's a gritty thriller about a Cajun police detective who takes on drug lords and arms smugglers and nearly loses himself while battling his own demons. I lived in New Orleans for several years, got to know a bunch of Cajuns from the bayou (some really do speak only French and don't know a lick of English) and he got the N'awlins atmosphere just right, the way it was in the mid '80s when I was there. Here's one of my favorite lines:

"It started to rain in large, flat drops when we turned onto the Expressway, then it suddenly poured down on Clete's car in a roar of tackhammers."

Ain't that the truth. It rained every day around 4 PM, and it was like the sky just opened up and vomited water. It came down so hard it really did sound like hammers. Felt like it too, if you were caught in it. But it never lasted more than twenty minutes. Then the clouds would suddenly disappear, the sun would come out, and in the near-tropical heat you could see the steam rising from the rain-soaked concrete like smoke from a cigarette.

To be honest, I can't say I'm a Burke fan, but IMHO, The Neon Rain is his best.

Disguised As A...

Let's say there's a person in a uniform--a grocery cashier, a maintenance person, etc.--that you see frequently in the same place, for at least a year. After so much time, you usually nod and smile at one another, or maybe even say a quick greeting. Then one day you see them on the street and you walk right on by. Or you do a double take. You're so used to seeing them dressed a certain way and in a certain place, you don't recognize them without the uniform and in a different environment. I don't know about you, but this has happened to me several times. It's a little embarrassing. In a way, it's like telling them that they're the uniform and not a real person.

It's happened to me the other way around, too. I usually wear jeans and a t-shirt to my day job, or a sweatshirt if it's cold. There are times though, when I have to "act like it" and wear the kind of clothes that makes everyone think I'm a class act (you can laugh now--I sure am). When I do, people don't recognize me, sometimes even up close. They don't realize it's me until I say something. I always say I'm in disguise.

So I bought this big, fancy church lady hat yesterday, just for fun. I've decided to buy a church lady suit to go with it. Me, dressed like a church lady--the perfect disguise! I don't think I'd recognize myself. I know a helluva lot of other people wouldn't. Hey! I could wear it for Halloween!

All of this is to say that disguises are going to play a role in my next book. At least as far as Melera is concerned. If Beloc's coming to Earth for a visit, she'll have to change her looks--completely. She's a shifter, so at first blush it might not seem like a problem. But she can only hold to her new form for a couple of hours before being forced to revert. And then, because shifting takes so much energy, afterwards she has to rest for a long longer than that. Disguised, trapped in close quarters with Beloc and nowhere to hide. Does he capture her? If not, it'll be interesting to see how she pulls off her escape.