I love cats, and yet there’s nothing better than a vastly humiliated (but unharmed) cat. Why is that?
Also, this picture [though of ancient internet provenance] was recently discovered at the following address:
http://www.navysecurity.navy.mil/st051704.htm
Yes, that’s dot MIL! The US military! Could this be some sort of telepathic counter-terrorist cat?
Discuss.
Oh, yeah, And Pretties comes out in, like, a week.
Okay, re-entry into the first world has given me the most astonishing flu-thing (possibly acquired on the bus to Atlantic City), so I will be brief. Below are three pictures I took in Mexico that I never blogged. I now blog them as my feverish brain melts:
A flower on our veranda in San Miguel taken at sunset. When I can take a picture this good with our crappy camera, you know stuff is pretty.
This is my picture of a hummingbird, taken among the same flowers. Compare with Justine’s photo-essay on the subject. Trust me, these guys are hard to get into the lens. In German, I think they’re called “movingquicklybirds,” or perhaps, “fasterthanscott’scrappycamerabirds.”
One of their many names in Mexican Spanish is chuparrosas, which translates literally to “rose suckers.” Now that is some seriously poetic wordplay, dudes. No, really. It reminds one of chupacabras, the mythical Mexican goat-sucking bat.
In San Miguel, as in heaven, freshly made tortillas are brought to your door by a fleet of motorcycles. Can we please just surrender to Mexico now?
The good news is, I just won the Victoria Premier’s Award for Young Adult Fiction!
The (relatively minor) bad news is, on the day of the award I was in Philadelphia, USA instead of Melbourne, Australia. I really would have loved to go, but it’s Teen Reads Week here in America. We’ve had many manic appearances this week, all of them scheduled before the award nominations were announced. Argh.
Fortunately, the wonderful Lili Wilkinson sent me an email this morning describing the affair:
The awards dinner was at Zinc at Federation Square, which is Very Fancy. The food was fabulous and the wine was bountiful. The YA award was the very first one, announced by MC William McInnes, who was very charming and attractive. Then we did a live cross to the country town of Sale, where some SLV staff were on hand with six fabulous Young People. The first three announced the three shortlisted books. The fourth said a few sentences about The Running Man, and the fifth spoke about So Yesterday, saying “This is a book about being cool, which is something I can really relate to”. He got cheers from the audience. Then the sixth Young Person announced the winner (you), and Bob [Sessions] came up, said a few words about how sensible you were to marry an Australian so you can be part of all this, and read your speech. Then we all clapped and cheered, bade farewell to the Young People in Sale, and ate some very nice seared tuna.
Here’s the Melbourne Herald Sun article about it.
There are many thanks to give, but I included most of them in my acceptance speech (read on my behalf by Bob Sessions):
“New” is another word for perilous. When I moved to Australia in 2001, I’d been married for less than a month and had just signed a contract for my first young adult books. This was a new country, a new marriage, and a new career. Perhaps unsurprisingly, the first scene of the first book I wrote here was set on the first day of school, that most terrifying commencement in any young person’s life.
But fresh chapters in our lives can also inspire, at least when there are new friends and allies to be made. In Australia, I have found them in abundance. Let me name three:
The Australian science fiction community has welcomed me unreservedly, even though my American upbringing means I can name only a single Dr. Who out of seven. (Or is it eight now? Nine?)
Penguin Australia has given my books a home here, marketing them skillfully and ameliorating my spelling without complaint.
The Centre for Youth Literature here in Melbourne have championed my work with tremendous enthusiasm, and have also given me the benefit of their wide reading and wonderful conversation. Special thanks to Agnes Nieuwenhuizen for building the Centre into such a wonderful resource.
It is to these friends and allies that I owe any success in my new career. This generous award is simply the icing on a cake with many layers.
Thanks to you all.
Four events coming up, all next week!
The Short Version: Justine and I will both be reading at a bar in Brooklyn this Sunday, hanging and signing at a Book Expo in Atlantic City on Monday, then I’ll be signing at Books of Wonder in Manhattan on Tuesday, and we’ll both be at the Elizabeth, NJ Main Library on Wednesday. (Gads! Who scheduled all this?)
Details:
Sunday, October 15 Justine and I will be reading with Bennett Madison (author of Lulu Dark Can See Through Walls) at the Barbès Reading Series, 376 Ninth Street (at 6th Ave) at Barbès Bar in Brooklyn.
Monday, October 17 We’ll be at the New Atlantic Booksellers Association Expo.
The Tropicana Resort & Casino
Brighton & The Boardwalk,
Atlantic City, New Jersey
We’ll both be hanging out there all afternoon (frequently near the Penguin booth #204), and from 2:30-3:00 I will be signing 75 copies of Peeps in the author autographing area, table #3. Note that this is a trade show, and you have to have a badge to get in.
Tuesday, October 18 from 5:30-7:30, I am appearing with Jeff Stone (Monkey), Joseph Delaney (The Last Apprentice), and Michael Buckley (The Fairy-Tale Detectives) at the wonderful Books of Wonder bookstore in Manhattan. That’s at 18 Eighteenth Street.
Wednesday, October 19 from 7–8:30 p.m., both of us will be appearing at the Elizabeth Main Library, 11 S. Broad St., Elizabeth, New Jersey. Reading and answering questions.
To my continuing series of Things I Will Miss In Mexico, allow me to add Skeletal Bathroom Tile Guy!
Our whole baño here is tiled with fanciful tiles, but none is more fanciful than Skeletal Bathroom Tile Guy. His most popular tile, in which he rides a bicycle, happens to be exactly at eye level (seated). It thus lends itself to dutiful contemplation, including such questions as:
1. Is a skeleton riding a bike funny enough? (No, it has to be a drunken skeleton!)
2. Is the skeleton wearing a hat, or some sort of bubble-making device? (Oh, right. It’s a hat. Those bubbles are drunkenness.)
3. Is the skeleton smiling? Laughing? Screaming in a terrifying way? Singing drunkenly?
4. Am I really sitting here contemplating a skeleton?
But wait, there’s more! Skeletal Bathroom Tile Guy doesn’t just ride bicycles. He also plays football:
Oddly, American-style football, not the local gooooooal-oriented version.
And he engages in wrestling-type activities with his friends:
(At least, I hope wrestling is what this is. Unless it’s that really cool Brazilian martial-arts dance invented by guys in chains. Nah, probably wrestling.)
But best of all, Skeletal Bathroom Tile Guy is a totally cool surfer dude:
So as I contemplate returning to my drab America bathroom with its non-delirious tiles, I know that I will miss him.
Hasta luego, Skeletal Bathroom Tile Guy!
PS. Kids, don’t ride bikes drunk. Also, wear a real helmet, not a comical hat, even if it does make bubbles. Skeletal Bathroom Tile Guy doesn’t have to worry about safety issues because, you know, he’s already dead.
We leave Mexico in less than a week, and already I’m making lists of things I’ll miss. Most of this list is food, of course, and most of that food is breakfast, my favorite meal.
Meet huitlacoche, the edible parasite. If you’re an ear of corn, huitlacoche is a scourge, a life-threatening invader, a deadly fungus. But if you happen to be human, it is the queen of all things mushroomy. It’s utter blackness indicates the saturation of the flavor. It’s like discovering Valrohna chocolate, or Italian espresso, or black truffles.
Ordinary mushrooms are to huitlacoche as the lightning bug is to the lightning.
Here’s what it looks like in its corn-killing parasite mode:
From Troy Gardens.
Eww, I know.
But this is what it looked like this morning at breakfast:
Like most edible parasites, the black fungus needs its intensity diluted. This omelet with huitlacoche and gruyare cheese was stunning on its own, but I figured that a few more flavors never hurt. So I stuck it into a tortilla with tomato, refried beans, hot sauce, and a big wedge of avocado, and had a breakfast to drool for.
How did it taste? Well, I’ll give you a hint. The place in San Miguel where they served me this is called “Nirvana.”
‘Nuff said.
Just got this from Simon & Schuster, a treatment for the cover of Uglies in the United Kingdom:
A really different look from the US cover, but I love it! It has a much creepier feel, because of the surgical pan. (Well, and the body parts, too.) I give it the simple-but-effective award.
Plus, the color scheme is cool. (Or is that a “colour” scheme?)
I don’t think it comes out there until April 2006. Because, you know, they have to translate it into English.
“Humans catch bug that makes them cannibals” is the awesome headline for the San Francisco Chronicle‘s review of Peeps. I love you, anonymous headline writer, because I would so read that story.
If only they’d used an exclamation point! The blurb:
Peeps provides plenty of action, suspense and smart-alecky dialogue. Westerfeld . . . does a fine job of using some of biology’s grossest case studies to show how parasites mess with their hosts in fascinating ways. His new book is a standout tale of horror, well worth the attention of older readers, too.
Writing update: The sequel to Peeps is now called The Last Days. It has 15,000 words so far. One quarter done!
Mexico update: We watched the pamplonada here in San Miguel. It’s half running-of-the-bulls and half bullfight. No bulls are killed, although some looked really annoyed. It’s not the same as the pamplona in Spain, mind you.
It’s amateur bull-baiting, actually. Bulls are let out in the town square, and self-appointed heroes hang out and piss them off. There’s something for everyone. For those who believe in bravery, it probably takes some guts to have a bull rush you. For people who find animal-taunting a bit lame, well, we get to watch many of the taunters thrown into the air repeatedly.
But for my TV-addled brain, it was just another reality show, one where people get gored instead of voted out. It called up the same base emotions, and had me screaming things like, “Get rid of that chubby guy with the mullet!” except to a bull instead of a panel of celebrity judges.
They let out the eight bulls out one at a time, but all eight are out together by the end. This rewards “situational awareness” more than reflexes. (My mullet guy got caught from behind while taunting the wrong bull. Sucker.) My favorite was the ginger bull, who went full speed down the street taking out buttloads of gawkers instead of spinning in a circle. Oh, and I liked the one who kicked that guy who was pulling his tail. Nice.
No one died, okay?
See Justine’s blog for more about this affair.
Still in Mexico, with 8,400 words of the sequel to Peeps already written. To those of you who think in pages instead of words, that’s about 35. More than 10% of a book!
Watch here for the title, which I suspect I will know soon . . .
Forgot to mention that So Yesterday (again, just short-listed for the Victorian Premier’s Award) just came out in paperback. It can now be acquired for $7.99 in bookstores or on Amazon.
And now, taken from our very own balcony, the envy-provoking sunset photo of the day:
Some quick notes from Mexico:
1. Mexico is celebrating Independence Week, and there were rockets whizzing past our balcony this morning. Total rockets!
2. Mexican waiters are so cool. They urge on my halting Spanish, saying Muy Bien and Perfecto! like I’m James Bond ordering in perfect French.
3. Humming birds are everywhere, and when one gets caught in your house and beats its little wings against the resonating heavy lead-glass Mexican windows, it’s like a helicopter in your living room! If hummingbirds were our size, they’d totally crush us like bugs! (And I, for one, would welcome out hummingbird overlords.)
4. So Yesterday just got short-listed for the Victorian Premier’s Award! This is a huge deal, and as always it’s nice to have my work recognized in Australia, my adopted home.
This is my new writing space, until it gets too sunny. Note the astonishing number of hummingbird-attracting flowers.