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I’m a wizard in search of magic, an astronaut in need of space, and a hopeless enthusiast of frivolity. I’ve shot things with giant lasers, worn an astronaut costume for over 100 days to try and get into space, and made my own soap. A graduate of the Odyssey Writing Workshop, I write science fiction and fantasy in the Canadian prairies.
Full disclosure: News Flash posts are satirical news parodies and not meant to be taken as truth.
Edmonton Police are cracking down on locals reportedly sneaking across a decommissioned train track. The 15-foot gap, a dangerous unused-but-clean train track that allows residents significantly more convenient access to needed amenities nearby, is considered private property and trespassers can be fined up to $25,000.
“Even though this train track isn’t in use and has in fact been promised to the city for transformation into a pedestrian crossing, it’s a really big threat to the safety of all Edmontonians,” said Officer Stickrear. “People can get quite hurt in the 15-foot distance between the fences. Much more than they could by speeding, running red lights or stop signs. As such, the fine for trespassing on this small parcel of completely unused land has to be suitably high to deter people from crossing. Much, much higher than those other minor safety issues. I mean, they might trip and break a dozen eggs during their grocery trip. Or, heaven forbid, smash a watermelon.”
Officer Stickrear spent several days this week parked in his vehicle near the abandoned train tracks, warning and threatening trespassers to ensure they were suitably protected from the threat.
“So many people have stopped to thank me,” he said. “They’re grateful their tax dollars are being used for this focused effort, rather than wasteful and pointless efforts to curb thefts, break-ins, vandalism and other crimes in the area.”
One local, who was recently given a fine of $25,000 and had to sell her residence to pay it, expressed her gratitude to Officer Stickrear. “Who knows what could have happened to me there,” she said. “I mean, the opening is totally clear aside from the railway tracks. Anyone or anything could have snuck up on me while I walked day-dreaming carrying my groceries through that space. I’m so glad he saved me from that danger. Now that I’m moving into a new cheaper neighbourhood to rent, I won’t have to worry about the abandoned train track anymore. But I feel better knowing Officer Stickrear and other dedicated officers are paying this matter the heavy attention it deserves.”
Others have expressed their gratitude that totally unused private property slated for transition into public space is being enforced to such a heavy degree. “People need to respect corporations a lot more,” said another resident. “The fact that the space is not used in any way whatsoever, and that it’s been planned for conversion into public space, is all the more reason for us to not use it. People need to stop being so lazy, and spend the extra half an hour walking around it carrying watermelons.”
“I don’t see why people use this space,” said another resident. “I mean, I’m not buying watermelons, and if I need to buy groceries, it’s much better for me to drive to Costco than to walk to my local grocer anyway.”
City officials have announced their annual local hero awards, and Officer Stickrear is expected to carry home the gold medal, the highest honour, for his leadership on the safety of the train track.
“You don’t need to give me a gold medal to tell me how important this work is compared to everything else,” he said. “I’m just doing my job.”
Officer Stickrear declined to comment on the correlation of month-end ticket quotas within the force, and the efforts made to police the train track.
I’ll be on a panel at Pure Spec this weekend with the insightful and entertaining S.G. Wong and Rhonda Parrish. It’s called “Author Incognito” and is all about what it’s like to write with a pen name.
Having had my pen name for a relatively short period, there are a few things I’ve learned that might help you on your own cattle-cart ride through the ether.
When I switched to my pen name, I migrated my website and had to systematically remove mentions of my previous publications under a different name. I didn’t do this because I was ashamed of what I’d published. Not at all. I did it because I wanted to create a separate identity from my original one, and if I maintained all those ties, it would defeat the purpose of a pen name for me.
Authors have differing opinions in this regard. I might change my mind on this later, but for now this is where I sit.
An important requirement for me was to maintain different author and professional personas. In order to keep employment options open as a teacher, I had to minimize my online presence as much as possible (again, there are examples of author-teachers who ignore this, but I take a ‘prepare for the worst’ approach). This directly conflicted with the requirements of being an author: being accessible online, having a visible platform, and being a multi-national award-winning flame juggler.
This is what the pen name does for me: it allows me to keep these spheres separate, and make this cognitive dissonance possible. For the outside world, teacher-me barely has an online presence, while author-me will hopefully be part of a blooming utopian community of interested readers, creators, and acrobats.
I’m not going to lie. It was hard to “say goodbye” to my previous publications by removing their presence from the website. It felt like, in many ways, those words hadn’t mattered. In those moments, I try to remind myself that they did, they have, and they will. I try to reframe the situation as an opportunity to start fresh with many years (decade(s)?) of experience under my belt.
The other issue is whether or not I can be happy not seeing my real name on the page when a work is published. Can my ego, delicate after continuous rejection, handle not getting credit when I finally pass the gatekeepers? For me, that was why the creation of the pen-name had to contain so much of me. I entertained the notion of a random name, but nothing really felt a part of me, even when I’d try to roll the names around in my head for several days. In the end, I had to choose something that was an amalgam of things I identified with.
Part of this creation involved getting feedback from others. People I trust and respect told me it was important for my author name to be easy to spell, pronounce and remember. There is definitely some cultural bias in that suggestion, but I can see its merits nonetheless. In the end, I opted for the name you see before you. I believe that it meets my need to see myself on the page, though it is and always will be a little different from seeing my real name there.
Before anyone asks, no, my name was not at all intended to be reminiscent of Joe Haldeman. Although I did love The Forever War.
That’s my take on pen names, for now. Now get back to cultivating the circus of your own split-personality lives.
I love board games, and so I feel an unnerving pressure to attend local events. A good kind of pressure, a deep-tissue massage.
We only went for the last afternoon, but we experienced what happens every time I crack open a new board game: new paradigms, new lenses through which we see microcosms before total immersion. I lose myself in these worlds, loving the way mechanics can be reflective of our own rules, things we might strive toward, or just ways in which we can be something more than ourselves.
The best game we played this year was Naga Raja, a two-player duelling treasure hunt game that entwines betting, combat, Indian Jones exploration and the satisfaction of pipeworks grid puzzles. The game had the wonderful combination of multiple interacting elements and mechanics, while remaining easy enough to understand the basic structure and flow. I regret to inform you I didn’t win the match, nor did I win the raffled copy of the game. Somehow, however, I feel that a serpentine ruler will slither its way into my game cupboard nevertheless…
Another game by the same company (Ilo 307) was Planet, where you build a planet by attaching magnetic tiles to your very own dodecahedron. Animals will spontaneously emerge, or perhaps flock to, the planet most abundant in a particular type of biome. While the mechanics were simple, the three-dimensional tactile aspect retained interest as we flipped our own, and each other’s planets to try and plan the next moves. Trying to keep a mental model throughout proved a form of calisthenics for spatial reasoning.
Tiny Towns was an adorable game that showed how resource acquisition can be a double-edged sword, discouraging wanton hoarding or collecting of anything but what you need, a notion and theme that is perhaps an appropriate lesson for the young and old.
Then there was Tokyo Highway. Oh, Tokyo Highway. What I’d like to call String Railroad 3D. What a neat concept, but wow, do I wish I had surgeon’s hands to be successful. In a two-player version, I managed to demolish highways faster than a sharknado. I can only imagine the rich satisfaction a 4-player game would entail, which would no doubt harbour toddler-level joy through ruination of an established order.
Thank goodness we have such outlets as games, or who knows what the babbling, insufferably adorable destructoids might do to the world as we know it.
The next instalment in Rhonda Parrish’s ambitious alphabet anthologies, F is for Fairy, is coming out soon (May 7th). To celebrate, I have both its gorgeous cover and a list of pre-order links*!
*Links at the end of the post
It includes my story, “I”, a political satire featuring an idiot king and talking animals. You’ll have to read the story to find out what “I” stands for (that’s how these anthologies work–a story for each letter of the alphabet).
Here is the back-cover blurb:
“Anyone who believes that faeries are wee, golden-haired creatures with dragon-fly wings and sweet intentions has never met a real faerie.” –Suzanne Willis, “A Silver Thread Between Worlds”
Retellings of familiar favourites from new perspectives, and brand new stories share the pages of this fairy-themed collection. Within these offerings you’ll find fairy music and food, contracts (making and breaking them), changelings, circles and curses–these stories deliver all the things you already love about fairies and a few new tricks as well.
A dusting of dragons, shapeshifters and ogres accompany these tales which include feminist fairies overcoming trauma, Norse fairies breaking the rules to interfere in human affairs, intergalactic fairies hitching a ride to a new home, political satire featuring an idiot king and talking animals, a new Robin Archer story, fairy run nightclubs and so, so much more.
Altogether this collection includes twenty-six brand new stories–one for each letter of the alphabet–from contributors Pete Aldin, Steve Bornstein, Andrew Bourelle, Stephanie A. Cain, Beth Cato, Sara Cleto, Cory Cone, Danielle Davis, Megan Engelhardt, Michael Fosburg, Joseph Halden, Lynn Hardaker, L.S. Johnson, Michael M. Jones, Jeanne Kramer-Smyth, Samantha Kymmell-Harvey, C.S. MacCath, Jonathan C. Parrish, Alexandra Seidel, Michael B. Tager, Rachel M. Thompson, Laura VanArendonk Baugh, Brittany Warman, Lilah Wild, Suzanne J. Willis and BD Wilson.
Pre-order it below!