Ozark Pudding
1 egg
2 T flour
1/8 t salt
1 apple, diced and peeled
1/2 c sugar
1 1/2 t baking powder
1/2 c nuts, broken
1 t vanilla
Beat eggs and sugar until smooth. Add flour, powder, salt. Add nuts, apple, vanilla. Bake in 8″ buttered pie tin 35 min at 350. Serve with whipped cream or ice cream. Serves 3-4.
Note: we triple this recipe for a 9×13 pan, but do not triple the sugar.
When I was in high school, I was at Wendy Grace’s house watching “The Commitments” with a group of friends. At some point, for some reason that I couldn’t identify then and sure as hell couldn’t now, my friend, Rob, and I started laughing and could not stop.
(Note for clarification: we were not on drugs of any kind. I feel it’s important to state that for the record. We were so squeaky-clean that you could’ve served a banquet for the Queen on our souls. Not that you’d want to, ’cause, dude, that would make for a really crowded table.)
One of us would slow down to catch his breath, look at the other, then start all over again. We reinforced each other in a positive feedback loop that had us laughing so hard that it hurt. Tears streamed down our faces, our stomachs hurt from doubling over, but we could not stop, not even if we wanted.
Last night, at w00tstock, it was just like being in Wendy Grace’s living room, except instead of Rob, there were three hundred geeks, and, instead of “The Commitments,” there was the greatest line-up of nerd music, movies and comedy this world has ever seen. And I just made my Saving Throw vs. Hyperbole, so that’s totally for reals. My sides still ache from laughing.
If you were a member of the World Science Fiction Convention in Denver last year, or if you’re a member of the Montreal version this year, you can nominate stuff for the Hugos. Did you know this? I sure as hell didn’t the first time I went to a Worldcon, probably because I was more concerned with avoiding the outrageous parking fees at the Anaheim Convention Center than voting and nominating and such.
Ever since, I’ve tried to get the people I know on the ballot, for both the quality of their work and the novelty of saying, “Hey, I know that name!” It hasn’t worked out as well as I’ve hoped, but no one said World Domination was easy. That’s why I hope this little nugget will spread from my site to Facebook and Twitter and beyond. You gotta start somewhere.
So, if you can nominate stuff for the Hugos, please take a look at these works. If you like them, please tell people about them. And if you really like them, please nominate them.
Best Novel: “Pandemonium,” by Daryl Gregory. Del Rey, August 2008.
Best Novella: “Far Horizon,” by Jason Stoddard. Interzone #214.
Best Novelette: “The Right People,” by Adam Rakunas (hey, I know that name!). Futurismic, October 2008.
Best Novelette: “The Elephant Ironclads,” by Jason Stoddard. The Del Rey Book of Science Fiction and Fantasy. Del Rey, April 2008.
Best Short Story: “Willpower,” by Jason Stoddard. Futurismic, December 2008.
Best Short Story: “Living with Creely,” Andrew Tisbert. Rosebud #41.
Best Short Story: “Tetris Dooms Itself,” by Meghan McCarron. Clarkesworld #23, August 2008.
Best Short Story: “Random Acts of Cosmic Whimsey,” by Jetse de Vries. Flurb #6.
I’ve only done two crosses, and neither of them had mud. I think I’ve been missing something.
Chad Orzel is trying to raise money for science teachers across America. As a former physics student, I can get behind that. Please consider dropping a ducat in his bucket.
(Cross-posted at Science Fiction LA. Just ’cause.)
So, The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction gave away free review copies to the first twenty people who asked and said they’d write about it. I asked, I got it (and thank you!), I’m writing about it.
1) I was very glad to see that F&SF was sending out these free review copies to average people. Jason Stoddard and I are always yelling that the best way to market good products is to give free samples to loudmouths and encourage them to talk things up. F&SF’s target audience is packed with loudmouths, so they just have to find ‘em and let ‘em go to town. I hope they’ll start pushing copies on io9, SFSignal, and maybe shove a few at Wil Wheaton and John Scalzi.
2) The edition I got did not make me want it. Warren Ellis’s words that magazines are objects that are designed to be wanted ring in my brain every time I see a new rag on the shelf. Anything with the words “fantasy” and “science fiction” will get my attention, but, man, if you want me to part with cash for your words, the container for those words had better kick me in the back of the head.
3) Three stand-out stories gave me that blessed skull-thumping feeling: Geoff Ryman’s “Days of Wonder,” Albert E. Cowdrey’s “Inside Story,” and M. Rickert’s “Evidence of Love in a Case of Abandonment: One Daughter’s Personal Account.” Rickert’s story, about a future where women who had abortions are capital criminals, scared the crap out of me and got even scarier the more I heard from Sarah Palin.
4) My one complaint (because what kind of blogger would I be unless I complained about something?) is this: everyone in this edition has been published in F&SF before (though if I’m misremembering, I’m happy to print a correction). A double issue would have been a perfect opportunity to rescue someone from the slush pile and introduce a new writer to F&SF’s audience. And I don’t just say this as a collector of rejection slips; I say this as someone who loves new stuff. Give us new authors, guys! Give ‘em a lower rate and put ‘em on your website instead of in print! Make little story origami to hand out at conventions! Make a widget that has nothing but newbs! You can make the Internets work for you, and New And Shiny is the Internets’ currency. Just sayin’.
I grew up with comedy albums. I can still do Bill Cosby’s Hofstra from memory, and my brother only has to start singing “Soap, soap, soap” to crack me up. Dr. Demento only opened more doors.
And of course George Carlin was in there. The classic gold albums (FM & AM, Occupation: Foole and Class Clown) are still my favorites, though it’s his routine “Death and Dying” from On the Road that epitomizes what I loved about Carlin: the voices, the microphone mastery, the playful love of words and language how they shape our thinking about Big Heavy Shit.
I didn’t like much of his standup after Parental Advisory because it sounded like he’d stopped going for the funny and gone after the applause. It’s easy to make a friendly crowd hoot and cheer, but making them laugh? That’s hard, man. And to make adults laugh over wordplay and absurdity all while dealing with Big Heavy Shit, that’s really hard. All of the albums that were based on misanthropy sounded like a man who’d just said, “It’s too hard. Fuck it.”
So, I don’t mourn George Carlin, because the teacher I listened to hasn’t gone away and will never go away. Light up some Toledo Windowbox tonight for him.
