reading (Asimov's Dec)

I took my time reading this month's Asimov's, a whole four days. Being the December issue I expected some holiday themed stories, but the only one was one that took place during solstice celebrations. I must admit I was hoping for a bit of Christmas cheer from James Patrick Kelly or Connie Willis.

For me this was a weaker issue than average. I felt cheated by the ending of "Lord Weary's Empire." There are rules. When the early Zelazny work wandered off into meta myth story the lines were already drawn and you knew why the ordinary didn't apply to the characters. If you want to overcome the "it was all just a dream" cliche, you'd better have damn good material and a damn good excuse for the reader. "Yellow Card Man" was dark and solid. "The Dying Fall" was semi-dark and poetic. I'm still cocking my head like a confused dog trying to figure out why "Safe!" was worth reading. "The Golden Record" has some good twists, but didn't have the quality to make an outstanding story.

I now appreciate the timing of the former Asimov's editors. If you publish to a primarily North American audience, the December issues should always be strong and light. The days grow darker one by one, all on their own. If you want to keep your readership, give them a candle or bright neon, don't mimic the season with dark tunnels and vast emptiness.

41. "Asimov's December 2006"

Dax Redux

With the new engine and clutch, recent transmission, improved tires and wheels, and even improved bumpers, the van is a much changed vehicle. It's strange to go out in the morning and assume it's going to start. It's downright odd to have to take it easy on the accelerator in order to gradually take off from a stop, I used to have to floor it just to get rolling. To stop for gas without the gut wrenching fear of not being able to start again is novel.

But... but it's a different car. It's like waking up to find the acerbic drunk you've lived with for years has a Martha Stewart smile and drinks nothing but V8. Over six years I'd gotten kind of use to the abuse, in a sick masochistic way. Now it's different.

"There was nothing left of mine inside,
not even the broken radio." - John Wesley Harding "The Red Rose & The Briar"

I can get used to it. It will just take some time to adapt.