Generally speaking, exposition is not a good thing.* To put it in the simplest possible terms: When you're explaining, you're losing. There. Now, you take that, or you leave it. Just don't get all ironic and ask me to explain.
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It's been a year now, as of yesterday, since we filmed footage that would become the crowdsourced book trailer for The Drowning Girl: A Memoir. For three days and two nights, I was surrounded by a marvelous and creative team of people. And then we all went our separate ways. Which, I suppose, is how these things work. It was a very good weekend. Sure. The book trailer, near as anyone can tell, didn't do much one way or the other for the book's sales. Fuck it. It was still a very good weekend, and I'm still amazed we came together last October and made this tiny film:
To mark the anniversary, Brian Siano, who shot almost all the footage, has posted a "making of" video, almost half an hour long. It has been seen by very few. Indeed, though we screened it at Readercon this past summer, we didn't have time to view its entirety. As I write this, I haven't seen the whole thing. But, here it is (thank you, Brian):
So, one year later on, I just want to express my most sincere gratitude to Kyle Cassidy, Brian Siano, Sara Murphy, Nicola Astes, Dani Church, Ryan Anas, Geoffrey Goodwin, and Spooky – My Special Lady Friend. Thanks, and I miss you all. Well, except Spooky, who's still here. She won't leave.
Photograph by Kyle Freaking Cassidy
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In the main, yesterday was spent assembling (and writing the prolegomenon for) Sirenia Digest #82, which I very much hope that subscribers will enjoy. Did I ever mention that email thing I have to do every day? Anyhow, today I have more...stuff...that has to be done. Editing, mostly, and parts of two interviews. One of those interviews has been sitting around....forever. I genuinely hate giving interviews.
Have you preordered the hardcover collection of Alabaster: Wolves?
The platypus calls. Or the toilet. They sound a lot alike, now that I think about it.
Heeding the Call,
Aunt Beast
* As with all writing "rules," there are many notable exceptions. But I bet green folding money that infodump you took on the first fifty pages of your military sf novella wasn't one of them.