We spent a good chunk of yesterday and today emptying out our storage locker here in Portland and ferrying things down to McMinnville where a friend has a ginormous locker that he’s letting us put things in. Free!

It was really bizarre looking through the locker as we’d forgotten what a lot of the contents were.  Rob said that it was like going through a deceased aunt’s house because all the things in there seem like they belong to another life.  Creepy.

I found my box of juvenilia, which I did not bring back to the apartment, tempting though it was.  At some point next summer, we’ll go down and sort through things but at the moment it was just too overwhelming.

I’m up waiting for Rob to come home although there’s a chance that he won’t be home until tomorrow.

Confused? He was driving back tonight from California, after driving there yesterday to drop off grapes.  He thought he’d make it back by 12:30ish tonight but also thought he might stop and sleep instead. So, I’m waiting up to see if he calls to tell me he’s pulled over for the night.

Meanwhile, to pass the time, I’ve completed a short story, made a peach and apple cobbler, and made vanilla ice cream.  I believe the first two are successful. The third is a little… crunchy.  If I think of it as snow cream then it’s fine.  Note: lowfat milk doesn’t cut it for icecream.

On the other hand, the cobbler really wanted it and… this will tell you a lot about me. I was too lazy to walk back to the store to buy ice cream.  It’s okay. I see the crazy there.

Did I mention I finished a short story?

Edited to add: 12:45. He is home safely. Night all!

Here we have a handy collection of photos of our new apartment’s exterior and the living, dining and office areas. We still don’t really have art on the walls yet, but I figured our family would kill me if I kept waiting.

Just click the photo and you’ll zip over to the Picasa Album.

Portland Apartment

Aside from the fact that Rob keeps having to drive to California to deal with winery things, I think we are settling into Portland nicely.

Through the magic of Skype, I spent two days reading the rest of Glamour in Glass to the folks back in the Puppet Kitchen. I’d gotten into the habit of reading stories to them when I was finished and they had been listening to me read the novel as I worked my way through it. This makes me happy that 3000 miles will not keep me from using them as a sounding board for fiction. It makes me feel like I’m still sort of there.

The rest of the week was spent trying to tempt Laurel Amberdine and her husband to move to Portland. Now, other people might regard having houseguests a week after moving in to an apartment as a crazy idea, but having company actually helps me feel more grounded. I think it’s a nesting thing.

That helps significantly since I’ll spend the rest of this week being a wine widow, while Rob is off on another trip to California. Thank heavens I’ve got some short fiction to work on. Might be time to call the Puppet Kitchen again…

This week at AMC I take a look at the Fantasy career of David Bowie, who has done a surprising number of fantasy films.  Actually, when you consider the actor, it shouldn’t be a surprise.

Check it out.

AMC – Blogs – SciFi Scanner – Mary Robinette Kowal – The Fantastic Stylings of David Bowie.

Rob had to drive down to Sacramento yesterday to pick up so FYB’s for City Winery and is on his way back up. We’ve realized that I can take the train down to Eugene to meet him.  Then we can stay at a Bed and Breakfast and then spend tomorrow out in Oregon wine country as he makes deliveries.  This does not sound like way to spend the day.  So I and my computer are hopping Amtrak south at about 2:00 today.

This will let Chris and Laurel, who are staying with us, have the apartment to themselves for the evening. I’m pleasantly surprised by how well the apartment is working for having house guests.

I am very pleased to report that my first foray into the Lovecraftian mythos has sold to Innsmouth Free Press. Innsmouth Free Press is a fictional newspaper publishing faux news pieces in a Lovecraftian/Cthulhu Mythos universe, as well as original short fiction stories.

Since “Prayer at Dark River” is flash fiction, I’m only going to offer you a small teaser.

Dear Lord in Heaven, O Merciful Father.

Always I have turned to You in prayer when frightened and my first instinct tonight was to kneel upon these old flagstones and beseech you for guidance. My other choice would be to commune with Professor Webb as we wait to see if his sorcery has had effect. Should I pray the American sorcerer has succeeded, so that Guðrun is safe, or should I pray that he fails?

The story will come out the first week of October in the 2nd issue.

Ahoy me hearties, it be International Talk Like a Pirate Day, which be one o’ me favorite days o’ th’ year.  In honour o’ this fine day, I be givin’ away a wee bit o’ booty.

In the unpacking o’ our boxes, I found a stash of Shimmer’s Pirate Issue, edited by Cap’n John Joseph Adams and illustrated by th’ fearsome James A. Owen. I’ll bestow one o’ these treasures on th’ matey with the best piratical exclamation.

“Shiver me timbers” be so old it be swimmin’ w’ th’ fishes.  Show me yer most inventive expression.

So, from now til th’ witching hour on the Pacific Coast, drop yer name in th’ hat o’ comments with yer best piratical speak and I’ll pick me favorite.

Publisher’s Weekly has reviewed Scenting the Dark and Other Stories. Whee!

Scenting the Dark and Other Stories Mary Robinette Kowal. Subterranean (<http://www.subterraneanpress.com>www.subterraneanpress.com), $25 (80p) ISBN 978-1-59606-267-2

Campbell Award–winner Kowal presents a broad spectrum of stories in her chapbook-slim first collection. The heartbreaking “Just Right,” in which a family struggles with a child’s strange behavior, isn’t speculative at all. “Death Comes but Twice” edges into dark fantasy, while blind perfumer Penn is stalked by an enormous predator in SF horror story “Scenting the Dark.” The deepest tale is “Some Other Day,” in which a young scientist struggles to undo the terrible consequences of her father’s well-meant work, while “Jaiden’s Weaver” is a sweet story about nurturing and caring for a creature others think deformed. Kowal’s stories don’t always plumb the depths of speculation or characters, but when they do the results are often stirring. This excellent introduction to her work is likely to make her new fans. (Nov.)

What we tried to do with this was to put together a miniature collection of the stories which are hard to find or have never been printed in physical form.  Which means that you are getting my very first published story, ever, “Just Right” all the way up through “Jaiden’s Weaver” which came out online earlier this year.

Oh, and an intro by John Scalzi.

Delighted that the gas for our stove had been turned on, I decided to make muffins yesterday.  Compared to the stove in NYC, which was quite old and to the 1950s Wedgewood in our house, this oven is massive.  It has a smaller external footprint but the interior seems large.  Of course, the Wedgewood has a double oven, which makes cooking for a dinner party great since you can set separate temperatures.

If the complex will let us, I’d like to swap this stove out for a vintage one.  The older stoves held a steady temperature, while the new ones, like this one, cycle on and off to maintain the temperature, which means that there are constant fluctuations. It’s not as nice for baking.

In any case, the reason I’m posting is to remind myself of this recipe. I hadn’t purchased eggs yet, which I remembered after mixing the dry ingredients together. So I looked up eggless muffin recipes and combined it with my usual recipe turned out a muffin I quite liked.

• 1 1/3 cups flour
• 3/4 cup rolled oats
• 1/3 cup sugar*
• 1/4 teaspoon salt
• 2 teaspoons baking powder
• 1 teaspoon baking soda**
• 3/4 cup raisins
• 3/4 cup milk
• 1/4 cup cooking oil
• 1 tablespoon red wine vinegar**

Mix flour, oats, sugar, salt, baking powder, and baking soda.  Stir in raisins.

Combine milk, oil and vinegar.  Add to flour mixture and stir until moistened. Batter should be lumpy.  Lightly grease muffin tins.  Bake in 400 degree oven for 20 minutes or until golden.  Makes 12.

*I use turbinado, because I like the crunch.

**These are the egg substitute for this recipe.  Normally you’d use one egg instead, but I liked the texture of these.  More scone like.

I’m also happy to report that the smoke alarm works. It is a little overzealous, since it is in another room and the muffins were perfectly done, just piping-hot. 

Unexpected benefits to the new apartment are…unexpected.  The drain in the kitchen sink had a little bit of a drip, so I turned in a maintenance request in the evening and the next morning, the maintenance guy turned up to do the repair. Like magic!

And then, as he was leaving, he said, “Hey, turn in a request for those cabinets and I’ll come back and fix them.”

I looked baffled and he said, “You want them to latch, right?”

I’ve lived in vintage buildings for so long that I’m sort of used to cabinets that close imperfectly. The notion of having a handy-man notice and then offer to come back and fix them for me is a luxury that was unlooked for.

Other benefit.  The post office is four blocks away from the apartment complex.  Manuscript submission just got a whole lot easier.

And now, here are some carefully cropped photos of the bedroom.  Carefully cropped so you can’t see the pile o’ boxes over in the right hand corner.  Hey. We’ve only been here a week, so it’s amazing that we’ve come this far.

As you’ll notice, we’ve not yet unpacked the artwork.  The room itself is actually quite bright, but because of the sunny courtyard outside the window, I had to turn on the bedside lamp to make the camera happy.  The bed is one that Rob picked up in Hawaii. It’s missing some pieces and so required a little bit of assembly. Our NYC solution wasn’t as stable as this seems to be. I’m also very fond of the afghan on the bed. SF writer, Laurel Amberdine, made it as a present for my 40th birthday.

But what really makes the bedroom, indeed all of the rooms here, is the view out the window. This is what it looks like when you are sitting on the bed.  I can’t wait until spring when that apple tree outside my window is in bloom.

The only apparent downside to all the green involved landscapers with power tools at 8 am, but I don’t get the sense that it will happen every morning.  Actually, it was pretty funny. I was up at 6 for some reason and sitting at my desk writing.  This guy with a rake walks past.  I thought. Hm. Me. Window. Bathrobe. Perhaps I should get dressed.  When I came back, he had just spotted Marlowe.

His face lit up and he approached the window like he was going to talk to the cat.  Marlowe totally freaked. It was as if someone on television had suddenly turned to address you.

We are still unpacking, but are into the art and ephemera boxes now. This is my favorite label.

The TARDIS and books were fine. The cloth napkins are horribly wrinkled.

When I started writing these columns for AMC, the first thing I did was to define terms.  In particular, we talked about the difference between fantasy and science fiction.  While both types of films break the rules of our world, one explains it by magic, the other by science.  The only catch is that some science fiction uses science as if it were magic and breaks the laws of physics in ways that aren’t and will never be possible.  In literature, we’ll sometimes call this science fantasy.  Why? Because it looks like science fiction but is pure fantasy.

Today, I take a look at some common tropes of Science Fantasy films.  These are ideas that filmmakers use when they want to slide a little bit of magic into their films but pretend that they are still science based.

You can read it at AMC’s SciFi Scanner.

At the moment, I am amused because the very first comment was “Malarkey.”  I think someone is sad because I took his ray gun away.

I have to say that my desk situation is vastly superior in the new apartment to either the old apartment or even the house.  I’m right by one of the windows.  Marlowe uses me as the highway to get to his window seat.  He looooves the windows, here.

I can’t blame him.  There’s nothing like sitting at the desk, having granola with  Sauvie’s Island blackberries for breakfast while staring at all the greenery outside the window to make one think that moving was the right choice.  I just feel so much more relaxed here.  Granted, I’m not working on any shows at the moment, so sleep deprivation isn’t currently a part of my life.

Meanwhile, let’s orient you a little about the apartment.

The apartments were built in 1945 and are pretty intelligently laid out, though not for a world where telecommuting was a large part of life.  We’ve adapted Dining Room (D.R) to be a dual office. Rob and I have our desks back to back and I sit on the kitchen side.

The kitchen is the smallest I’ve had, but pretty well laid out for all of that. My biggest challenge will be pantry space. It’s actually nice, in an odd sort of way, to be forced to consider if we really need things.  There are a number of things, like the 1930s toaster that belonged to my grandmother, which I love but don’t need. We almost never use it, so it is going into a box and down to the basement.

This is the view from the kitchen sink window.  Pretty amazing, eh?  What’s remarkable is how much this feels like a private yard, rather than part of a complex. The designer did a really good job with the layout. We also don’t have any common walls with our neighbors, except right at the end of the kitchen.

I’m not sure what it will actually be like to cook here because, alas, the gas company won’t come until the 16th so I won’t do any serious work in there until then.  It gets crazy amounts of light and the morning sun comes straight in the window.

The downsides? The floorspace is not much wider than the doorframe. The refrigerator and stove are to the right of the picture, along with a single bizarrely deep cabinet.

There’s also only one outlet waaaay down next to the door. That’s where Rob’s espresso machine lives.  Technically, there is also one behind the refrigerator, and we’ve plugged a power strip into it, but I won’t need a lot of power on that side of the kitchen.  I foresee an extension cord in my life.

As the rest of the apartment comes together, I’ll post pictures of it.

Tonight will be our first night sleeping in the apartment. I’m already excited by how quiet it is here. We’re only a block off Sandy Blvd, which is a busy street, but because of the way the apartments are constructed, there’s almost no street noise here. It is lovely.

The apartment is slowly coming together. Honest, I’ll post pictures eventually but at the moment, to paraphrase -e- it looks like a yardsale gone wrong. Lamps in various states of disassembly, cardboard, more cardboard, and then a few boxes.

Being back in Portland is at once good and very strange. I’m used to living closer in than we do now. So, on the one hand, there are all these familiar places. On the other hand, we’re in a different neighborhood. I keep catching myself saying “Back in Portland…” as if we are living in another city now.

I’m also struck by how very white it is here. Very. We went out to eat the other night and there were two people that might have been Latino and otherwise, no one who had brown skin. This happened driving across country too, but it’s not surprising in, say, Idaho or Kansas. Our house is in a part of town that is historically black, so it was in a much more ethnically mixed neighborhood. That might be part of what is contributing to the disorientation, actually.

Marlowe is also disoriented. I think he keeps wandering around the apartment wondering how all his furniture got here.

Besides that nagging sense that things are just a little off, it is good to be back. I’m looking forward to being settled so I can start entertaining. It won’t feel like home until the first dinner guests come.

As a housewarming present, Michael Livingston has “Chaucered” my story “Evil Robot Monkey.” Don’t know what that means? It means, that my lovely medieval studies professorial friend has translated my story into middle English.

He explains the process as he goes.

In the corner of his vision, the door to his room snicked open. Sly let the wheel spin to a halt, crumpling the latest vase.

In the corner of his visioun, the chamber dore openyde. Sly letteth the axeltre turn to an ende, foldynge the latteste vesselle. (Mary’s vocabulary is strikingly old; that is to say, she uses fewer post-medieval words than most of us do. That said, “spin” as a verb in the 14th century really only applied to spinning wool, “crumpling” is 16th-century word, and “vase” didn’t make it into our language until the 17th.)

And then he recorded it. So, if it weren’t cool enough, you can listen to my story as it might have been if Chaucer had written it. Or at least, if we’d been in the same writing group…

Go listen to “Yvele Metal Ape!” It’s pretty darn cool and one of the best housewarming presents I’ve ever received.