Masters of 19th Century English Literature

Next Wednesday is the first session of my first graduate level English literature course at Salem State College. The reading list is predictable, but it's nice to see some of my favorites there:

*Jane Austen - Emma
*Charlotte Bronte - Villette
*Emily Bronte - Wuthering Heights
#Charles Dickens - Bleak House
George Eliot - Daniel Deronda
*E.M. Forster - Howard's End
#Thomas Hardy - Jude the Obscure

* I've already read these
#Already on my to-be-read pile

The George Eliot selection is the only surprise, and likely it's not a surprise if you know more about English literature than I do. My BA is in Classical Studies (Ancient Greek, Latin, mythology, philosophy, and so forth), so despite my writerly pedigree, my education in the English classics is sorely lacking. All I have is what I've read on my own, wading through reading lists like The Modern Library's 100 Best Novels. As I've said before, I always get hung up on Ulysses, get discouraged, and give up.

I can't imagine I'll get away with not reading Joyce if I'm to finish the MA and then the PhD. Perhaps, I'll "read" this version, while riding the train to and from Cambridge for the day job.

Con Report: 3Pi-Con, Part III

The White Elephant Burlesque

On Friday night at 3Pi-con, I saw what was to be the programming highlight of the entire convention. Worth the entire price of admission. Here is what I remember of The White Elephant Burlesque:

Introduction - Music by John Williams

The emcee of the show, "Viktor Devonne" did a sexy, weird, elegant, hilarious dance with two black ostrich feather fans to a sorta-gay techno version of the Star Wars Imperial March. No really. He was in white-face makeup, dressed in the vein of Alex DeLarge in A Clockwork Orange. During this dance, he had the lower buttons on his white shirt open so his roundish belly could show through while he was dancing. When he was finished dancing, he did an opening comedy act, where he told a story about a fan who supposedly sent an e-mail inviting the whole troupe to an orgy after the show. He said the goal of the troupe was to inspire everyone who saw the show to write such a letter. Not that they'd accept the invitation, or anything.

Il Dolce Suono/The Diva Dance - Music by Inva Mula

The first dancer, "Anyanka," came on stange dressed in formal ballet attire, complete with tutu. She did a gorgeous en pointe routine to "The Diva Dance," featured in the movie the Fifth Element. When the music intensified near the end, she stripped down to the white strappy outfit worn by Leeloo when she first wakes up in the genetic regenderator thingummy machine. Anyanka was the loveliest of all the dancers, with long, muscular legs, and a body much too lush for a traditional ballet dancer, but absolutely perfect for the burlesque. She was HOT STUFF.

Trilogy
Mio Bello Bello Amore, Lions Roar, Bang Bang, My Baby Shot Me Down - Music by Cirque du Soleil, The Hush Sound, & Nancy Sinatra

Viktor, "Femme Fae La Butche," and "Gretchen" performed a trilogy of dance/pantomime routines. In the first part, Victor and Fae are clearly having an affair, when Gretchen comes home from work, forcing them to scurry around, looking for places to hide. They used many clever props, pretending to be lamps, and wall sconces, and various pieces of furniture. Fae was an extremely large, un-youngish woman, but sexy as heck. Gretchen was built like the prow of a ship, with gargantuan breasts barely contained in a straining bustier. In the second part of the trilogy, Gretchen seduced Viktor, and in the third act, she pulled a gun from her garter and shot him dead for cheating on her. Very, very funny.

Show Me Your Pussy - Music by the Lords of Acid

"Lily Stitches" performed a cute, but rather standard strip tease, starting out dressed like a cat, with ears, kitty slippers, and long false eyelashes. She was really, really slender, and stripped down to a very pretty corset. She probably weighed about 90 pounds, and though very pretty, was too skinny to be really sexy. Still, she was pretty cute dressed up like a cat, and most of the guys in the audience thought she was plenty hot.

Wild - Music by Poe

"Jordana Marielle," dressed like a laboratory technician, drank something out of a test tube and turned into a pink-haired plant beast. She did a routine with a hula hoop, which was okay, the highlight: her belly, which was very, very attractive.

It's Oh So Quiet - Music by Bjork

The gigantic woman, Femme Fae La Butche, came out dressed sort of like Mary Poppins, with a big black umbrella. The verses of the song alternate, as you might already know, between quiet loneliness and exuberant passion. This was simply hilarious to watch this humongous woman perform. First she would slump along twirling the umbrella, then she'd just explode with ponderous delight and energy, and as the song kept flip-flopping between erotic and sad, she got more and more frustrated with the sad parts. As she danced, she stripped from Mary Poppins down to an extremely distressed red corset/bustier thing, complete with stockings over her huge thighs. It was wonderful, hilarious, and, again, sexy. Big can be beautiful; trust me.

I'm A Slave 4 U - Music by Britney Spears

Another really funny number. The glorious Anyanka came out on stage dressed in a brown, peaked-hood robe like a Jawa from Star Wars. She boogied under the robe for a while, which was totally funny, then whipped it off to show her second costume: the slave girl thing Princess Leia wore while dancing for Jabba the Hutt, of course. She had these lovely, jingly belly chains and quickly proved to be an accomplished belly dancer. I was shocked by her range. She danced so vigorously, her costume fell apart. She had to finish up clutching top and bottom to her lovely, muscular curves.
Wow.

Candyman - Music by Christina Aguilera

Viktor wore a long black trench coat and the girls wore schoolgirl outfits. He was ostensibly the "candy man" and seduced them like a drug dealer, whipping open his coat near the end to display lollypops and other candy. Very funny. He kept pulling candy out of all the places you might expect, the girl's bustiers, his pants, etc.

Night Train - Music by Jimmy Forrest

"Lamia Luxuria," dressed like a slinky Snow White with shiny black curls did a wonderful strip tease. She was adorable, and sexy as hell, and it felt really naughty that she was dressed like Snow White. She stripped down to this fantastic black bustier, then scurried offstage to wild applause.

Coin-Operated Boy - Music by the Dresden Dolls

Femme Fae La Butche was Frank from Rocky Horror, and, frustrated with her failure to create the perfect lover, has decided to go mechanical. Viktor was the "coin-operated boy" and they did a fun schtick with Gretchen and Jordana as her assistants. Victor was dressed only in white bicycle shorts, a collar, and a pair of suspenders. There was a lot of slapsticky grabbing of his package. Totally cute and hilarious.

Down With the Sickness - Music by Richard Cheese

Lily Stitches did a strip-tease as a naughty nurse, using a stuffed animal as her "patient." She ended up in a pretty corset and pasties over her tiny, tiny breasts. Still too skinny; sorry Lily.

Start Wearing Purple - Music by Gogol Bordello

Gretchen of the humongo breasts, dressed in a corset that just made the issue even more impressive, danced around Jordana, Fae, Anyanka and Viktor, pulling purple scarves from various amusing places. She tucked the scarves into her corset and did a sexy-sexy dance. My favorite feature was Anyanka dressed like a boy, swooning over her every move.

Why Don't You Do Right - Music by Amy Irving

Lamia Luxuria did the most wonderful impression of Jessica Rabbit from Who Stole Roger Rabbit. She had the hair, the slit-to-HERE dress, the long gloves, the whole nine yards. She walked around the audience, sat on people's laps, didn't take off a single thing and was sex on legs. The crowd LOVED her.

Now I'm Following You - Music by Madonna, with Warren Beatty

Viktor and Anyanka did a great partnered dance number punctuated by acrobatics by Anyanka. Again, I was impressed by her range and her enthusiasm. Another several numbers, and I expect she could have done some break-dancing, line-dancing, ballroom dancing, salsa dancing, and whatever other kind of dancing you can think of. I bet she dances a hell of a mean tango.

Please, if you've ever wanted to see a burlesque show, click the link and look up their next show. Dress up in something sexy. Go see them. Dance your tail off at the end. You'll have a ball. Trust me. I certainly will, next time they come to Boston.

Con Report: 3Pi-Con, Part II

Saturday 7 p.m. - LGBTQ Fiction

The panel was moderated by Debra Killeen, and attended by me and Connie Wilkins. The primary question was, "Is the mainstream ready for LGBTQ fiction?" I'm not sure the panel came to a clear, on-topic conclusion, but we discussed queer themes in SF as well as romance and general fiction and acknowledged that due in large part to the internet, it's easier than ever to reach niche queer markets (lesbian biker stories, for example). We discussed how the availability of queer-themed fiction will continue to closely mirror social acceptance of queer individuals and lifestyles in general. Because I'm new at being an invited guest, and the panel was sparsely attended (the program matrix was 6-deep) I learned several valuable convention lessons:

1. Instead of focusing on selling your obscure fiction during the 30 seconds of self-promotion at the end of a panel, advertise the hell out of your upcoming panels. If people like what you have to say in one panel, they might seek you out in other panels, but they have to know when and where they are. If, like me , you freeze under pressure, write yourself a note ahead of time. TELL THE AUDIENCE ABOUT UPCOMING PANELS BEFORE THEY ESCAPE, STUPID! Have a list of your panels handy, in case you start to foam at the mouth.

2. Drag the people who love you to the panel. If they're not predisposed to doing so without prompting, ask them to think of questions to ask during the panel. If they're not the sort to think up questions at all, supply them with questions to ask, if they want to actively support you. However they choose to help (even just by being there) thank them afterward with lots of whatever makes them happy. Kiss them a lot. Buy them a car. Learn belly-dancing. Whatever.

3. If the audience members are all over 21, do not ask, DRAG them to the bar for a more intimate conversation over alcoholic beverages instead of staying in the salon. If you waffle on this, they will insist on following social convention and you will be forced to sit behind a table looking at empty chairs. Get a few drinks into otherwise quiet panelists, and you might find yourself in a conversation about the good stuff people are otherwise too shy to talk about. I would have liked to know more about the lesbian biker anthology, for example, but aside from a flash of a book cover, it never came up. More's the pity.

4. If you're talking about a specific genre, come with on-topic book recommendations for writing other than your own. I felt the biggest accomplishment of this panel was book recommendations for an under 18 audience member, who was interested in reading GLBTQ fiction, especially SF. Someone on the panel mentioned the book Boy Meets Boy. I directed her toward Mercedes Lackey and Fiona Patton, and if I'd brought a list of my favorite queer SF, I'd have also mentioned Ellen Kushner, Anne McCaffrey, Storm Constantine, Poppy Z. Brite, Francesca Lia Block, Holly Black, Caitlin Kiernan, and lots of other likely choices, both age appropriate and not-so-much.

5. Try to stay on topic, but be flexible enough to follow the thread of a conversation that may be tangential, but interesting. Be entertaining. Laugh. Have fun. If few people come to your panel, the panelists can at least entertain each other and the small audience. Bring props: chocolate, sock puppets, your tap shoes. Smile. Be enthusiastic and grateful that you were invited to speak. Don't forget to thank your audience for coming, and thank the panelists for their time and effort. Never stop taking notes for what to do next time.

I'm new at this, so the above are not necessarily my recommendations to other writers. Seriously, I wouldn't presume. I hope to look back on this post a few years from now and see myself improved. That is all.

Goblin Fruit Summer 2008: Reader Review

Here is a reader review of Goblin Fruit Summer 2008 by the poet and poetry editor Mike Allen. Of "The Midwife's Progress," he says:

Starting with the first “book:” Joy Marchand's dense "Midwife's Progress" required two or three passes before I completely understood what it was about — the midwife’s art viewed through the distorted lens of modern medicine — but its offbeat language and down-and-dirty imagery made the repeat visits worthwhile.

Again, please go here to read the rest of the review.

Con Report: 3Pi-Con, Part I

Author Reading: Me

Every time I attend a convention, I have a day where I reflect on lessons learned. At 3Pi-con, I had the opportunity to read aloud the first half of my short story, "Black Annis," which is forthcoming from Dark Scribe Press (the queer horror anthology Unspeakable Horror, out this fall). As per the usual, I was not organized enough to have ink in my printer or find a printer once I got to the hotel, so I read the story from my MacBook, standing up behind a table. I was nervous about this, as I'd been very nervous reading from the screen during the pre-Rhysling poetry slam at Readercon 19, but I learned that I can read rather more expressively while standing up behind a table or podium, scrolling with the touch pad. There was just enough freedom for physical expression and just enough of a barrier between me and the audience to soothe my agoraphobia. The small audience seemed alert and appreciative, and I felt that my performance was an unqualified win until I stopped reading and the audience asked me for my business card, intending to purchase the anthology as soon as it comes out so they could finish reading "Black Annis." I was gratified, and deeply embarrassed that I had nothing to offer them but my website, scribbled in the program book (the 3Pi-con program book didn't include web addresses for all of the guests that provided them).

My lack of self promotional skills was extra troubling because in the audience at my reading was Elaine Isaak, who (along with Mary Robinette Kowal) is one of the most savvy self-promoting writer I know. Elaine always brings copies of her books to put in the dealer's room, and extras to prop up in front of herself while she reads or speaks on a panel. She has even e-mailed me a copy of her "guerrilla self-marketing plan," which includes tons of suggestions on how to promote yourself, including mobilizing friends and family to help turn books face-out in bookstores and printing bookmarks and pins and all sorts of fun swag to pique people's curiosity. Instead of wallowing in my lack of foresight, however, I'm just going say, "Thanks for the suggestions, Elaine. It's about time I listened." I'll be designing and printing business cards, very soon. Perhaps it's not quite a full-scale attack on the problem, but it's a good start.

The Pillow Book

When "The Pillow Book" arrived in its little red Netflix envelope, I thought, "Ooo!Peter Greenaway, check. Ewan McGregor, sans pantalones, check. Bizarre love triangles, check." I popped it in and off I went, into a land of strange lighting, pounding, dissonent music, and beautifully odd photography choices (for me, cinematic heaven).

To say I wasn't prepared to be so disturbed by a film would be disengenuous. I have, after all, seen a lot of disturbing movies, including Greenaway's "The Cook, the Thief, His Wife, and Her Lover," and "A Zed and Two Noughts," both of which are packed with horror and acts of twisted love and grief. But seriously, even though I've long been a fan of Ewan McGregor, with or without pantalones, I wasn't expecting his stunning, youthful beauty to knock me over quite so thoroughly (oh, the shaggy hair, the eyes, the narrow hips, the pale, smooth skin, almost like a woman's--le sigh). More significantly, I wasn't at all expecting the gruesome desecration of his stunning, youthful beauty either (le ew). The barbaric beauty of the "bookmaking" scene is something that will stay with me for a while.

Despite the uncomfortable connotations, however, I can't help but swoon at the romantic/erotic idea of drawing on a lover's skin, perhaps a little Shakespeare (my mistress's eyes are nothing like the sun--). I'm tattooed myself, and have drawn and applied temporary tattoos on others. I understand the desire, both to make my mark on someone I love, and to be myself marked. It's instinctive, I think, to desire stability, security, and permanence, especially in an emotion as volatile as love.

Henry & June

"I wept because the process by which I had become a woman was painful.
I wept because from now on I would weep less.
I wept because I had lost my pain and was not yet accustomed to its absence."

Anais Nin in the film, "Henry and June."

There are things I wasn't crazy about in Henry and June: Fred Ward's terrible hair, Uma Thurman's terrible hardboiled accent and clompy gait, for instance. But Maria de Madeiros as the sloe-eyed Anais Nin is nearly flawless. I haven't read Nin's diaries yet, so I can't speak to the veracity of the storyline, but Richard E. Grant (Withnail and I) as Anais Nin's loving, adventurous, devoted, somewhat naive husband is worth the price of the rental. My favorite scene has Anais Nin lounging in bed between her secret lover, the writer Henry Miller, and her husband Hugo, when the maid comes in and is shocked by their intimacy. In the film, Hugo doesn't explicitly acknowledge that Anais and Henry Miller are having an affair, but Grant's portrayal of Nin's husband has complicated overtones that suggest Hugo may not have been as horrified at the idea as one might expect.

Congratulations, Mary

I'm thrilled to dedicate this space today to Mary Robinette Kowal. Graceful, giving human being, talented writer, generous friend, winner of this year's Cambell Award and again here with John Scalzi and his Hugo for best new SF writer.

Congratulations, Mary. May your star burn forever bright.

When Night is Falling

A straight-laced female professor at a Christian college. Her minister fiance, who has just been offered the career opportunity of a lifetime. A beguiling lesbian acrobat in a tree outside their window, tucked into the greenery like a cat awaiting fire rescue. An insipid script. Some nice lighting and interesting locations and piss poor special effects. I can't even cheer this film's mediocrity, as I did with Outing Riley because I was too bored by it to pay much attention. There was this part with these girls on a trapeze inter-cut with a lesbian sex scene (mostly elbows and thighs) that would have been sort of nifty--if only the trapeze artists hadn't been sporting 80's ponytail mullets and ice-dancing leotards. It was meant to be sexy, but I kept hoping to hear the soundtrack of Donnie Darko start up with, "No...no...notorious, notorious!"

I'm scraping the bottom of the barrel for films to watch these days, and might need to start screening the so-called "classic" films listed in my 1001 Films You Must Watch Before You Die book.

Time to stop merely posing as a cinephile and watch Citizen Kane. And maybe something with subtitles.

Outing Riley

Following the bouncing ball through Netflix recommendations, I found myself hunkered in front of the film, Outing Riley. This one's about an Irish guy coming out to his conservative, Irish Catholic family after his father's funeral. The most remarkable thing about this film is that it's a standard comedy. There are Catholics, so there is a priestly brother with obligatory confession and pedophile jokes. Obligatory oral sex jokes. A penis hat. The obligatory double-beard (gay man, lesbian fiancee).

But hey, I've been watching queer films long enough to get excited about Outing Riley's mediocrity. I remember way back when gay romantic comedies were downright horrible--low production values, actors with good hair (badly styled) and all the voice inflection of George Romero's more comatose zombies, and terrible, terrible scripts. This film was no better and no worse than the last few heterosexual romcoms I've seen! So, at least we know queer films are getting their share of funding; cold comfort, but better than another ten years of acne-ridden actors and poorly concealed boom mikes just to see two boys kissing.

I realize that I'm damning this rather mediocre film with faint praise, but a note for Firefly fans: you get to see Nathan Fillion's bare bottom (Captain Tightpants, without his pants). For others who might be interested: there's a scene with a nicely shaped naked blonde girl, applying lotion to her legs. Hopefully, if you do choose to watch this film, the brief nudity will distract you from its overall lack of sparkle.

3Pi-Con 2008

August 22 - August 24 I'll be attending 3Pi-Con in West Springfield, MA. From the website:

Pi-Con is a convergence of geekery. Fantasy literature, larping, webcomic creators, bloggers, costumers, artists, authors, performers, and both scientists and science fiction buffs all under one roof for one weekend.

Here is my programming schedule:

Friday 8 p.m. - Author reading (I'll be reading "Black Annis," forthcoming in the queer horror antholgy, Unspeakable Horror available soon from Dark Scrybe Press.)

Saturday 11 a.m. - Writing the Opposite Gender (which I do in "Black Annis," so come see the reading and tell me if you think the voice is believable...)

Saturday 7 p.m. - LGBTQ Fiction (again, relevant to "Black Annis," so please come see the reading and (same as above--and I'm not above bribing the audience with chocolate)

Hope to see you there.