The Last Two Months
It's been over two months since I last posted. My rule is, I should post something at least once a week, so readers know I am still alive. I'm not sure why I took a break from posting...
I went east to visit family for Christmas, which was nice, even though it rained most of the time. It should not be raining in late December in the mountains of New York. Should I mention global warming, or do you all know about it?
When I got back, I finished proofing the collection of hwarhath stories. If all goes well, it will be out in May from Aqueduct Press. Now I have to move on to unfinished stories. There are seven of these at the moment. I still plan a collection of Lydia Duluth stories. I figure I have enough to keep me busy all year.
January was not a good month in many ways. David Hartwell, who edited two of my novels, died in a freak accident. He was moving a bookcase up or down a flight of stairs, fell and hit his head. I knew David for at least 25 years. A bright and interesting man, who was passionate about science fiction. I always enjoyed chatting with him at conventions. I'm going to miss him a lot, even though we only met once a year or so.
David Bowie and Alan Rickman died. I didn't know them, of course, but I enjoyed their work. I was especially fond of Rickman in Galaxy Quest and Sense and Sensibility. They were working class guys who made good in the arts, did good work and pushed limits, Bowie especially.
The Marxist biologist Richard Levins died, also the Marxist historian Ellen Meiksins Wood. I have been reading both for years.
I am hoping, now that we are in February, that the deaths will stop. But my generation is reaching the age when mortality catches up. David was 74 and should not have been moving furniture up and down stairs. Bowie and Rickman were both 69. Ellen Meiksins Wood was 74. Richard Levins was 86.
I need to start paying more attention to young people.
I went east to visit family for Christmas, which was nice, even though it rained most of the time. It should not be raining in late December in the mountains of New York. Should I mention global warming, or do you all know about it?
When I got back, I finished proofing the collection of hwarhath stories. If all goes well, it will be out in May from Aqueduct Press. Now I have to move on to unfinished stories. There are seven of these at the moment. I still plan a collection of Lydia Duluth stories. I figure I have enough to keep me busy all year.
January was not a good month in many ways. David Hartwell, who edited two of my novels, died in a freak accident. He was moving a bookcase up or down a flight of stairs, fell and hit his head. I knew David for at least 25 years. A bright and interesting man, who was passionate about science fiction. I always enjoyed chatting with him at conventions. I'm going to miss him a lot, even though we only met once a year or so.
David Bowie and Alan Rickman died. I didn't know them, of course, but I enjoyed their work. I was especially fond of Rickman in Galaxy Quest and Sense and Sensibility. They were working class guys who made good in the arts, did good work and pushed limits, Bowie especially.
The Marxist biologist Richard Levins died, also the Marxist historian Ellen Meiksins Wood. I have been reading both for years.
I am hoping, now that we are in February, that the deaths will stop. But my generation is reaching the age when mortality catches up. David was 74 and should not have been moving furniture up and down stairs. Bowie and Rickman were both 69. Ellen Meiksins Wood was 74. Richard Levins was 86.
I need to start paying more attention to young people.
posted by Eleanor at 9:57 AM
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