May 21st, 2013
I’m modeling my usual crater attire. The elevation of the crater floor is around 7400′, so solar radiation is intense and sunburn happens fast, so I learned to hide from the sun long ago. (Photo by Ronald J. Nagata, Sr.)
A few years ago my husband, Ron Nagata, retired from his position as Chief of Resources Management at Haleakala National Park here on Maui, but he still works at the park as a volunteer. One of his ongoing projects is invasive weed control from Haleakala’s summit to Kapalaoa Cabin. Over the weekend he and I participated in a periodic service trip, aimed at knocking back the population of two target weeds. It was a fantastic weekend, with unusual weather–colder than expected for this time of year.
On the six-mile hike in, we enjoyed a constantly changing panorama of mist rolling just above the slopes and between the cinder cones. Over the last couple of miles we were spattered by a very light rain. We reached the cabin, rested a bit, and went out again into a cold afternoon to start working. Before long a dribbling rain started to fall, but slowly enough that we stayed out until evening.
The next day started off clear, but the mist and fog soon returned. We worked until mid-afternoon and then returned to the cabin for a late lunch–just before the rain arrived in earnest. It rained hard until after nightfall, so that ended our working day…I’ll admit I wasn’t complaining, because I was tired.
On Monday morning we worked for a couple of hours and then set off through the spectacular central crater scenery on our hike out.
This is me, in the field. There was very little of our target weed in this area, but at the next patch of vegetation seen in the distance above my head, we discovered plenty–and pulled as many as we could. We’ll be back for the remainder before too long. (Photo by Ronald J. Nagata, Sr.)
The peak in the distance is Hanakauhi, aka “Hana Mountain” as seen from Halemau`u Trail in the central crater. (Photo by Ronald J. Nagata, Sr.)
Posted in Hawaii, Maui | 3 Comments »
May 17th, 2013
The Wild is my one and only attempt at high fantasy. It’s written in an old-fashioned, formal tone, with old-fashioned heroes, and is quite different from anything else I’ve done. Except for a handful of printed advance-reader-copies (ARCs) created in 2011 to test the market, it’s never been published—until now. I’m serializing it on my blog, one chapter every Friday. I hope you enjoy.
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* * *
~ Part 3: Ghosts ~
Chapter 19
On the third morning after the parting at the River Talahnon, the five companions left the green plains, entering a land where the stony soil supported only thickets and scattered groves of stunted trees. The weather had been fair, but on that day heavy clouds came up from the south and the wind grew chill. In the late afternoon they began to look for shelter.
Kit and Marshal were riding together well ahead of the others. Before Kesh, neither had much experience of horses, but in the days since, under the tutelage of Pantheren and Jakurian, their skills had grown rapidly. Near dusk Kit came galloping back with the news that they had discovered a small cave. “There is not much room, but except for some old bones it is empty, and with luck it will stay dry awhile.”
They hurried to tether the horses in a thicket as the first drops of rain began to fall. They hauled the gear inside. The cave was dark and cramped and cold. As the rain strengthened to a steady downpour, they ruefully recalled the comforts of Kesh.
“Would that we could at least make a fire!” Kit lamented. “But there is nowhere for the smoke to go.”
“Would that we had a light,” Jakurian replied, “for I admit a dread of the utter darkness that is almost upon us.”
He had no sooner spoken these words, than a pool of white light glimmered into existence on the surface of a hollow stone in the middle of the cave, illuminating rough walls and weary faces. Jakurian drew back in alarm.
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May 15th, 2013
I’m just back from a trip to Washington D.C., my first-ever visit to the capital. I’ll have a lot more to say on that later, but for now I wanted to mention a few nice things that happened while I was away.
First, the finalists for the 2013 Theodore Sturgeon Memorial Award have been announced. The award is for the best short science fiction of the year, and is chosen by a jury. Much to my surprise, my Analog story “Nahiku West” was on the list. Find the full list of finalists here at Locus Online.
Second, I was very pleased to have The Red: First Light appear on Kristine Kathryn Rusch’s monthly recommended-reading list. Here’s part of what Kris had to say:
a near-future sf thriller that’s so compelling, I couldn’t put the thing down. Excellent, well-imagined, great characters, fast-moving, great writing, everything I want in my science fiction (in my fiction really) and rarely get. I can’t recommend this book highly enough.
It’s the first in a series, but it doesn’t leave you hanging. This part of the story ends. And then, when you finish the last words, you can breathe again. Because if you’re anything like me, you’ll be holding your breath to the very final sentence.
That made my day! Find the post here.
And finally, John DeNardo has an article just out at KirkusReviews.com called “When Short Fiction Grows Into a Novel.” I’m one of the writers he interviewed along the way, since The Red: First Light had it’s start in my Asimov’s short story “Through Your Eyes.” Find the article here.
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May 10th, 2013
The Wild is my one and only attempt at high fantasy. It’s written in an old-fashioned, formal tone, with old-fashioned heroes, and is quite different from anything else I’ve done. Except for a handful of printed advance-reader-copies (ARCs) created in 2011 to test the market, it’s never been published—until now. I’m serializing it on my blog, one chapter every Friday. I hope you enjoy.
Go to: beginning | prior chapter | next chapter
* * *
Chapter 18
The sun returned in the morning. The shutters were thrown open. Adrift between waking and dreams, Bennek felt the pressure of light on his closed eyes and imagined himself as thistledown lofted high above the land on a gentle breeze. Only slowly did the sounds around him bring him back into the world: the soft prattle of the men, their footsteps as they came and went, the breathy voice of the fire, the sizzle of breakfast cooking.
A soft hand touched his cheek. “You are wakeful,” Lanyon said happily. He felt her lips warm against his ear as she whispered, “Bennek, I know you hear me. You must thrive, for I need you to be well. Do not break my heart.”
A heavier hand rested on his forehead. “His fever is all but gone,” Pantheren said, “and his breathing has eased.” Bennek felt the touch of cool air as the blanket that covered him was lifted aside. “Even the swelling in his leg has subsided. You have called him back to life, Lanyon.”
“He has much life in him, do you not, Bennek?”
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May 3rd, 2013
The Wild is my one and only attempt at high fantasy. It’s written in an old-fashioned, formal tone, with old-fashioned heroes, and is quite different from anything else I’ve done. Except for a handful of printed advance-reader-copies (ARCs) created in 2011 to test the market, it’s never been published—until now. I’m serializing it on my blog, one chapter every Friday. I hope you enjoy.
Go to: beginning | prior chapter | next chapter
* * *
Chapter 17
Marshal bounded down from the rocks, skirting the mountainous carcass of the dire wolf to reach his brother. Kit was there before him. He looked at Marshal with tearful eyes. Lanyon was crouched at Bennek’s other side. She was weeping, and Marshal thought the sound of it would rend his heart.
Bennek was a crumpled thing. He lay draped over the rock, his waxen face turned to the rain. His eyes were half-open, focused on nothing, though every few seconds he blinked. Scarlet blood dripped from his nose and the corner of his mouth. More blood soaked his trousers just where his leg bent at an impossible angle above the right knee so that Marshal knew the bone was badly broken.
He wanted to speak to Kit, for he had never seen such injuries before and had no knowledge of what to do, but Kit had turned away, standing with hunched shoulders and a hand over his eyes. The Habaddon warrior, Bahir, whose arm was bound up in a sling, saw Marshal’s distress. He told Marshal, “Speak to your brother. Give him the comfort of your presence, but don’t move him yet.”
Then Bahir went to Lanyon and he urged her to rise up and come away, “It does him no good to hear your despair.”
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May 1st, 2013
I haven’t actually seen a copy yet, but Jonathan Strahan’s Best Science Fiction and Fantasy of the Year Vol. 7 is now available for purchase. It includes my novelette “Nahiku West” originally published in Analog.
This is the first time one of my stories has been selected for a best-of-the-year anthology, so it marks a milestone for me.
Visit Nightshade Books to read about the volume, and for links to vendors.
Posted in My Books | 2 Comments »
April 30th, 2013
My newest novel, The Red: First Light, is a very near-future military thriller that got me thinking again about the challenges of writing near-future fiction. The result is a blog post, up today over at Book View Café:
This fear of early obsolescence or “aging out” makes the near future a scary place to set a novel. What’s the lifespan of a book going to be when the associated history is changing even as the novel is written?
Click on over to BVC to read the whole thing.
Posted in Writing | 3 Comments »
