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Rules for Anchorites

Letters from Proxima Thule

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Look, Ma, I'm a Technopeasant!
aorist
catvalente
In celebration of International Pixel-Stained Technopeasant Day, by special arrangement with the Technoreeve, I give you a story you would not otherwise see until November, in Paper Cities, an anthology edited by squirrel_monkey and full of a whole bunch of authors who are far cooler than I am. I love this story with a scary big love, and it is growing into a big book as we speak.

The funny thing, by the way, about the Technopeasant comment, besides sheer bizarreness, which is, I guess, what you get from SF writers, is that it implies that we who use and understand the internet, we who are able through luck, knowledge, and skill to turn it to our literary advantage, are living in the Dark Ages of feudalism and, well, darkness. Which implies that the old guard are living in some kind of beautiful Renaissance that doesn't include the net, doesn't include computers as anything but (and maybe not even that) tools of composition. This isn't a fucking typewriter, guys. It's not "embrace the future," which, frankly, we should need no lessons in that, not a one of us, but "embrace the freaking present."

To which end: Palimpsest, full and uncut and yours for free, via this beautiful typewriter and its endless ribbon.

16th and Hieratica


A fortune-teller’s shop: palm-fronds cross before the door. Inside are four red chairs with four lustral basins before them, filled with ink, swirling and black. A woman lumbers in, wrapped in ragged fox-fur. Her head amid heaps of scarves is that of a frog, mottled green and bulbous-eyed, and a licking pink tongue keeps its place in her wide mouth. She does not see individual clients. Thus it is that four strangers sit in the red chairs, strip off their socks, plunge their feet into the ink-baths, and hold hands under an amphibian stare. This is the first act of anyone entering Palimpsest: Orlande will take your coats, sit you down, and make you family.

Read the rest.

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In celebration of International Pixel-Stained Technopeasant Day... I give you a story you would not otherwise see until November... I love this story with a scary big love, and it is growing into a big book as we speak.

*cheers happily* thank you! this is a great way to start a Monday. ^_^

Maybe the peasant thing is just about not being good capitalists? I'm not sure, really: I've been too busy burying all the poetry manuscripts I can't get paid for to give it much thought.

The thing is that posting things on the web can be profitable in both monetary and other ways, and that's what the man who calls us webscabs doesn't understand. I owe every one of my book deals to posting material on the web, and was paid very nicely. The internet is a tool, not this big scary thing that's out to end writers' ability to make money.

Of course, when it comes to poetry there's a whole different set of rules and concerns. It has always upset me how publishers have convinced us to work for free, to the point that some poets are proud of the lack of money poetry makes (not you or I) and poetry doesn't pay is an aphorism. Nice work, I guess. But my experience is that poetry is never well marketed enough to pay, unless the poet does it themselves. I sell more poetry books by hand at conventions than any other kind.

Thanks for a beautiful and very distracting (in good ways) start to the day.

Hi there! Glad to see you by, and thank you.

I love this story with a scary big love, and it is growing into a big book as we speak.

Awesome.

Also, this is just an aside, everytime I french braid my hair after a shower, I think of Urchins, While Swimming. Which is vaguely creepy, I must say. But infinitely cool.

Awesome! I think about it, too. ;)

Beautiful, Cat. Without doubt my favorite of your short stories. Thanks for sharing it with all of us!

As a blind reader, I notice that writers who grumble on about the technopeasantry do their best to ignore how the Nets make books available to many readers who do not have easy access to paper and ink books. Becoming blind made me realize how political the subject of access to books can be. Genre fiction in particular can be pretty scarce for blind readers, though there piles of books about the Bible and big g god produced for blind readers. I've been trying to find your books in an accessible format since Boskone, when I kept hearing about you wherever I went. Thank you for making some of your writing available, and for maintaining this LJ--now I will have to go find the labyrinth book, I love labyrinths...

Email me--I can make some work available to you!

That story is awesome. It drove me to blog about it's awesomeness because there is so much of it.

Nice.

*blush* You flatter.

Wait till you see the novel.

I only the flatter those most deserving.

Wow. That was... *speachless*

That was fabulous for a quick escape in a hectic day.

I can not wait to get teh book.

Thank you for the peek.

(Deleted comment)
Not at all! Nice to see you!

Great story. I especially liked the part about the vermin factory.

I read you poem, Achilles’ Shield, from your book, APOCRYPHA, very early this morning and was really blown away.

Seems like your poems go much deeper when read very early or vary late at night.

I guess at those times there is a kind of altered consciousness state which accesses the Archetypes more easily.

SM

Thank you!

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