Bill Leisner

Sometimes, even when the universe kicks you, it exercises some restraint.

On Saturday, in an effort to avoid the apartment complex rugrats thumping up and down the halls knocking on doors, I decided I would head up to Half Price Books and see if there had been any cool additions to their stock since last week. Driving along on the highway, I notice something in the road ahead, that from a distance initially looked like a shallow pothole. Once I got close enough -- i.e. too close -- I realize that it's actually a hefty chunk of concrete. "Oh, I probably don't want to drive directly over that," I said to myself, one second before I drove directly over it. The car bumps and jumps, and after a few seconds, I hear a telltale sound from the right rear tire. Sure enough, it's flat as the proverbial griddle-cooked batter-based breakfast dish.

Now, this sucks. I mean, there's no two ways around that, right? But...

... I was able to get to the shoulder safely, jack up the rear, and swap the flat for the spare without any problems. Which, y'know, for a guy who doesn't necessarily do a lot of "masculine" things, felt pretty good. Pretty damn good.
... it was chilly, but not finger numbing cold. And, being the last day of Daylight Saving Time, there was still plenty of late afternoon daylight at 5:15 pm.
... I was then able to get off the highway and find a place, just a couple miles down the road, which was still open at 5:30 Saturday evening, and where they were able to get me into the garage in a matter of minutes.
... I had known, for a few months, that all four of my tires needed replacing, but I had been putting it off until I was in a better financial situation. Even though they had been handling pretty poorly on wet roads of late, and surely would not been the best things to drive on through snow and ice. So, accepting that my hand was more or less being forced, I had the four new tires I needed put on, and I'm set for winter.
... as I noted elsewhere recently, I had just made my last payment on this car, so I can rationalize the tire purchase as just one more month where I had to pay for the car, rather than an extra expense. (Well, it's more like an extra month and a half, but whatever.)

So, thank you, universe, for putting that chunk of debris in the road when and where you did.

This showed up in my email this afternoon. I have no idea what it means, or what it's trying to sell, but I still thought it needed to be shared. Dig it:

Despotism was unknown,
and even the chieftain,
in the proper sense of the word,
had no existence.

Hello, i am Ursula Connelly

Try it for the well-being
You have not yet seen my husband.
Oh, you damned dandies.

Deep, man. Deep.

Welcome to the world, Kyle William, born this morning to my sister Teri and her husband Steve, their third child and first son.

I was one of those folks who, earlier this year, both looked forward to Joss Whedon's new SF series, and dreaded Fox's inevitable cancellation of the show before its time.

Then I watched the first few episodes of Dollhouse, and wasn't particularly taken by it. But, I knew that the Fox suits, in their infinite wisdom, had dictated changes to the pilot and early episodes, and read online that after episode six, things would shift. So, I decided to stick it out. And while there were some interesting bits and pieces in those later episodes, they were just bits and pieces, not enough to overcome the very large problems with the show, namely being, A) it's a show about a very high-tech, very expensive, very secret slavery/prostitution operation, and B) Eliza Dushku really does not have the acting chops to be a dramatic lead, particularly on a show where she doesn't have a consistent character to play. But, since I had already come this far, I decided to keep watching. Because Fox would be cancelling the show any time now.

And then Fox renewed it. Damn them.

So, I watched the second season premiere Friday, curious to see how all the changes wrought by last year's finale would affect things. The most unfortunate change, I think, is the absence of Miracle Laurie, who was really one of the bright spots of the show last year. And there's also the knowledge that Amy Acker's character is going to be disappearing in the next few weeks. And there are new twists with the addition of Agent Ballard to the Dollhouse, and with the Senator character being built as the new nemesis.

But the show still suffers a fatal flaw, in that it stars Eliza Dushku. And so, the majority of the hour is devoted to watching her "character" play the world's stupidest FBI agent, undercover as new bride to an international arms dealer. The audience is treated to a squicky wedding night scene, intercut with Agent Ballard waiting around his apartment while the woman he spent all last season trying to save gets frakked by Lee Adama. This is followed by an even squickier scene of Echo's gynecological exam after. And then, the whole plan falls apart because this custom-made investigative agent is too fucking stupid to make sure the bad guy has pulled out of the driveway before trying to pry open his locked office desk drawer with a letter opener.

And really, worst of all? There's still nothing in this show that says "Josh Whedon" to me. That thing, that unique element that made Buffy and Firefly and Doctor Horrible so entertaining is completely lacking in Dollhouse. And I've given up hoping that it's now going to show up. Time to put the dolls back in their boxes.

defcons_treklit has posted a new review of Losing the Peace at Unreality SF, and it's another good'un! Money quote:

Overall, a strong novel and a good comeback for TNG-branded novels after the decidedly sub-par Greater Than the Sum. After A Less Perfect Union and Losing the Peace, I certainly look forward to more novels by William Leisner.

Woo and hoo!

*blows layer of dust off the old LiveJournal*

Hey, everyone, how ya doing?

So, I feel like I'm finally back into the writing groove again, after far too long. In addition to the Star Trek Magazine article I did last month, I've today completed and submitted a short story for an open anthology. And with that out of the way, I'm now looking again at the original novel that had been my WIP until I found enough excuses to put the work and the progress aside. Hopefully, the time away will help improve the enthusiasm I had for the project.

On the job front... I've taken a part-time job, which is very part time, though on the other hand, is also low paying. But it gets me out of the house, and it lets me be able to say, I do have a job. There was an interview for a full time job last week, and another coming up this week, so not all hope is yet lost.

And so it goes.

Dear Internet Fuckwits:

If you start a post/blog/tweet by saying, "I don't know a lot about (blank), but,..." then not only is whatever follows on the subject of (blank) going to be ignorant shit pulled straight out of your ass, but you've just told the whole internet that what you're saying is ignorant shit pulled out of your ass. And honestly? We had pretty much already figured that out on our own. So why not save us all the time and energy and STFU, 'kay?

Love,
Bill

Clearly, I have nothing to say. How about any of you?

"I'll tell you what really doesn't speak well of our health care system: that in those sixteen months, the hole that they stitched up in Glenn Beck's ass hasn't healed enough for him to stop talking out of it."

Good God, but I love Jon Stewart

Mr. Mom
National Lampoon's Vacation
Ferris Bueller's Day Off
The Breakfast Club
Sixteen Candles
Weird Science
Planes, Trains and Automobiles
She's Having a Baby
Home Alone

Thank you, sir, for so much entertainment over the years.

I pick up my mail on my way out of the house this evening, and find a letter from Minnesota Revenue.

Okay, it may not be horrible news, I tell myself. It could just be some kind of form letter or notice.

"Bullshit," I answer, and open the envelope. And I read on the cover sheet:

This tax order change is the result of an audit of your Minnesota Individual Income Tax or Property Tax refund.[...]

Total Due - Pay This Amount $XXX.XX

"Bullshit," I say again. I flip through the pages. The audit was for my 2006 Property Tax. (Though I rent, Minnesota gives me credit for the percentage of my rent that goes toward the owners' property tax, and given my lower-middle-class income, I am entitled to a small refund from the state each year.) 2006 was a funky year, in part because I moved in November, so obviously, the state was only taking one or the other of those forms into account. Fine, I tell myself, when I get home, I'll pull out my 2006 return, run off a copy, and send it in with my appeal.

So, I get home, and go into my files for my 2006 tax records.

I have my 2008 records... my 2007 records... and my 2001 records.

Oh, fuck, I say. I go digging deeper in my files. I find more tax forms... from 1999... from 1996... I find W-2s from my college on-campus job... no 2006.

I look in other possible places I might have filed old papers. I find a box of old rejection letters from Asimov's and F&SF, but no tax forms.

Think, you dumb fuck, I tell myself, unnecessarily insulting. They have to be somewhere. And if you can't find it, you can't contest the extra due, and you'll just have to write a check... which is probably what the state was hoping all along, the bastards! Eventually, it comes to me: because I moved in 2006, I had my 2006 receipts set aside in a special box where I would know where they were the following April. Then when I actually did my return, the copies went in that same box, and the box went into the front closet!!

Huzzah! I say, as I open the envelope marked "2006", pull out the copy of my tax form, and compare to the new mailing. Okay, line 1 agrees, line 2, 3, 4, uh-huh... Then I find the discrepancy: I claimed a dependent when I wasn't supposed to.

I did?

I look at both forms. I look at the instructions for line 7. I see I wrote "01", and took a deduction I was not, in fact, entitled to. And because of that, the State of Minnesota refunded me $XXX.XX more than I was entitled to in 2007. Which they now want back. With interest.

Fuck

This afternoon, I visited the nearby Barnes & Noble, to see what was new.

David "infinitydog" Mack's The Calling is out, and after I got to it, faced out on the shelf.

Sandra "affinity8" McDonald's The Stars Blue Yonder is not yet out, but I fully intend to give it the same treatment when I do spot it.

(Interestingly, though it would seem both writer friends chose somewhat similar screennames, the words "infinity" and "affinity" actually have different Latin root words (fini and affinitas, respectively). Well, *I* thought it was interesting...)

And I had the special little thrill of witnessing a teenage girl approach the SF section, snap up a copy of Losing the Peace, then show it (along with something else) to her mother, letting her know what she intended to buy. I said nothing, of course, though I may have had a goofy grin on my face from the way the girl looked at me. (Or maybe it was just the fact that a creepy old guy was staring at her.)

Some people you can tell, "Here's a dollar, go buy yourself a clue."

Others, you need to take by the hand, bring them to the clue store, lead them to the checkout, put the dollar in their hand and then make them give it to the cashier... and they still don't fucking get it.

*headshake*

One more weird/cool thing that happened while in Baltimore:

One of the nice things about Shore Leave and the Marriott Hunt Valley is that, two blocks away, there's a Wegman's superstore. Wegman's, for those who have never been, is a supermarket chain based in my hometown of Rochester, and their superstores have, among other things, has just about the best sub shop ever. So, on my way to the light rail station and the airport, I stopped there for lunch. I get my sub and drink, go to the checkout, and cashier asks if I have their discount card so I can get 50 cents off my sandwich. I don't, of course... but the woman behind me does, and offers to swipe her card on my purchase. I thank her, and say jokingly, "When you're in Minneapolis, I'll return the favor." She laughs and says, "Great, except there are no Wegman's in Minneapolis. I was so glad when they came to Baltimore, because they used to be all over where I grew up."

Turns out that not only is she also from Rochester, but she grew up in the same suburb, only about five miles away from the Leisner abode! (Though she did her growing up a decade before I did.)

Nothing against the local grocery stores in the Twin Cities... but you'll never see a couple of strangers instantly bond like that over the Byerly's shopping experience, no way...

As stated previously and elsewhere, I think I have to say that, in five years of attending, this was the best Shore Leave in my experience. I think a large part of that has to do with the fact that I have not felt very social the past few months since being laid off, and being around so many friends was just the medicine I needed.

Of course, having one's name on the hot current Trek release certainly helps, too. Not only did the morning start with the thrill of seeing Losing the Peace on the New Releases wall at the MSP airport bookshop (yes, I'm easily thrilled), but the moment I walked into the lobby, Dave Mack gives me his hand and says, "Congratulations!" and tells me that, on his drive down with editor Margaret Clark, she told him my book was selling very well. It wasn't until that evening, at the Pocket Books presentation, that she told me -- and the rest of the Twittering world -- that LtP had reached Barnes & Noble's Top Ten Mass Market list, the first time a Trek book has done so in ten years. I needed to ask, from my seat in the audience, "Which book?" to be sure of what she had in fact said. And even now, I'm only 96% sure I heard correctly.

I signed something like 15-20 books during Meet the Pros, and made my beer money by selling one of my copies of SNW II. I signed not quite 10 copies during the 90 minutes I sat at the Borders table Saturday morning, and signed 8-10 more for them to take back to the store, and/or strip the covers off of. (Okay, maybe closer to 95% sure.)

There were two panels which I had suggested. The "Writing to Music" panel was everything I hoped it would be, with a good variety of different perspectives and some interesting conversation. The other, "Old School versus New School", got away from me, in part because I never quite got a good handle on exactly what I wanted from the panel, and in part because my Old Schoolers have many Old School stories, with which they are used to filling entire convention hours. But, better to have an hour filled than to finish the presentation in 30 minutes and have to beg for questions.

I got to spend some good quality time with Isla J. Bick, who I'd last seen at the con 4 years earlier; Marco Palmieri, sharing talk of story ideas and the current job market; Jim and Andi Johnson, talking about good-but-scary-looking barbeque joints among other things; got to better know Aaron Rosenberg, Rigel Ailur, and Dave Galanter; and hung out with about half the cool people who read this blog. (Oh, and Pearson was there, too, but now that we're proven we can cross the Mississippi whenever we wish, the pressure to seek each other out in Baltimore has been alleviated.)

Highlight of the weekend was The Roast of Keith DeCandido, which impressed me about six different ways. I was seriously frightened that this would denigrate into something ugly and be the cause of shattered friendships, but the entire dais, as well as KRAD, pulled it off with class. Or as much class as you can have while repeatedly calling someone a no-talent douche.

Memorable quotes of the weekend:
"You're welcome!"
"Too soon?"
... and of course...
"Fuck him! Fuck him right in the face!"

The first two, you had to be there. The third, I think, speaks quite well for itself.

So, I am back in the Twin Cities after what was a greatly needed weekend with friends at Shore Leave in Baltimore. I will probably write a long-ass post about it sometime over the course of tomorrow, but for now I'll just say that, despite the depressed attendance, this was probably the best experience I've had in the five(?) years I've attended this con.

In about 12 hours time, I shall be heading off to the airport, and thence to Baltimore, MD and Shore Leave 31. For those I won't see there, try not to miss me too much. For those I will see there, try not to show how much you would have preferred to miss me.

Does anyone still visit here?

Two more days 'til Shore Leave!! Whee!! If you're going to be there (or even if you're not, in which case, why would you even care?) this is where I'll be:

Friday:
10pm-?: Meet the Pros: Yes, come meet me! More importantly, come buy a copy of my book! Oh, and some other authors might be there, too.

Saturday:
1-2pm: Writing for Novels vs. Anthologies, with Rigel Ailur, Aaron Rosenberg. SPOILER: Novels beat anthologies with a buzzer-beating shot.

5-6pm: Old School vs. New School: Changes in Tie-In Writing, with Ann Crispin, Howard Weinstein Peter David, Christopher Bennett, Steve Mollmann, Aaron Rosenberg. Did you know Trek tie-ins used to be written on cave walls with bison blood? Whereas today, they are available in pill form? Learn even more about the way things have changed at this panel.

Sunday:
10-11am: Parallel/Alternate Timelines in Fiction, with Geoff Trowbridge, Steve Mollmann, Scott Pearson. About those fictional stories that didn't happen.

11-12n: Writing to Music: The Muse That Inspires, with Keith R. A. DeCandido, David Mack, James Johnson, Scott Pearson, Greg Cox, Allyn Gibson. Join us as the Star Trek Writers' Chorus sing selections from our first CD, For the World is Hollow And I Have Hit the High C.

1-2pm: Post Destiny: Now What Does the Federation Do? with Margaret Clark, David Mack, Christopher Bennett, Dayton Ward. This is actually the last panel of the weekend for all participants, so don't expect any strict adherence to topic.

For those I will see there, I'm looking forward to seeing you!

An LJ post earlier today by Laura Anne Gilman (suricattus) has, I think, put a finger on one of the major problems (if not the major problem) I'm having with this story:

I don't care about my characters.

More to the point, I don't know them well enough to care for them. This story is very much plot-centric. I have a lot of real cool ideas about historical events and historical figures and putting this fantasy twist on them... but my main viewpoint character is just a blank slate at this point. Hell, I think I changed his name 3 or 4 times now, because he can't even leave that much of an impression on me as his creator.

Having identified this, I think I now have to change how I approach writing. So far, I've been writing the framing part of the story, where my character is a tired and beaten man in his middle age, who then has cause to reflect back on events from 26 years earlier, when he was in his 20s and still full of piss and vinegar. I think I'll have a better chance of getting to know him if I tackle this chronologically, starting with the main story and then the framing segment.

Sounds like a plan. We'll see if it works like one.