a little news

I wish I could tell you that I've had nothing of any interest to write about and that's why it's been so gosh darn quiet around here. Truth is I've had plenty to write about, I've just been lazy! So, here are the two biggest events of the last month:

Baby K:
Baby K was born while I was away on dalmac. He's absolutely the cutest little guy I've ever seen, but so far I've only seen pictures! I've been so busy over the last month that I haven't had a chance to see him in person. I'm planning to fix that this evening. Sadly I'm still a few days away from finishing the little present I'm making for him. I'll have to mail it... or just drive over to see him again soon. Pictures of both the baby and the present are forthcoming.

Our anniversary present:
The traditional second anniversary gift is cotton and the modern gift is china. We shrugged all that off and bought a house instead. This is actually something we've been working on for about a year now. We finally have a signed sales agreement and we just need to do the inspection. Looks like we'll be moving in about a month. The new house is in a very nice area just outside of Saline. It's bigger and better laid out than our current house and it has a much bigger yard. It also has an extra garage for Buster's toys and a much larger space inside for my office and Buster's fly tying.

Once we move, we're going to replace the carpet in our old house and put it on the market. We know that buying another house before we sell this one is a risky move. But it's a calculated risk. We have a very old kitty that is prone to accidents and as long as that cat is in the house I know we'll have a terrible time selling. Also, we're prepared to sell below market price for our area so we should be able to sell quickly. Hopefully the recent economic upheaval won't screw us up too badly.

Two Years

Happy Anniversary to us! Buster and I got married 2 years ago today.

The wedding was in Delhi park. It was a gorgeous day. That picture was taken on the same bridge I talked about in this post.

After the wedding we moved on to the Michigan Firehouse Museum in Ypsilanti for the reception. What a fun place for a party!

A few days later we headed off for our honeymoon. We arrived in Thailand about 24 hours after the 2006 coup d'etat.

We spent a week on Phuket Island relaxing and wishing there was more sunshine. Then we spent a few days here:

That might very well be the coolest place I've ever been.

Anyhow, after two years of marriage I really don't have anything sage to say. I love my husband as much today as I did when I married him.

my dalmac stats

Thought I'd share a few stats from Dalmac for you:


Day 1, Lansing to Mt Pleasant:

• miles: 82.53
• time: 5:58 (does not include stops)
  
• average: 13.8 mph

Day 2, Mt Pleasant to McBain:

• miles: 68.5
• time: 4:45
• average: 14.42

Day 3, McBain to Elk Rapids:

• miles: 61.45
• time: 4:16
• average: 14.4 mph

Day 4, Elk Rapids to Petoskey:

• miles: 75.0
• time: 5:52
• average: 12.8 mph

Day 5, Petoskey to Mackinaw City:

• miles: 52.0
• time: 3:58
• average: 13.1 mph

Total, Lansing to Mackinaw City:

• miles: 339.48
• time: 24:49
• average: 13.7 mph

Other stats:

• max: 42 mph
• miles sagged: 0
• calories burned: over 20,000 (hrm reported just under this but wasn't always working quite right)
• damage sustained: broke my cadence meter when couldn't get clipped back in climbing the wall.
• sleep: Not nearly enough!
  
• beer consumed: plenty! (lost count by day 2)
• hangovers: none (shocking! and no, guys, please don't consider this a challenge for next time)
  
• debts incurred: One diet coke to the girl I nearly ran off the road when Ken snuck up on me in the hills on Day 3.
• gambling losses: $3.25 playing bottle pool (aka, pea pool)
• for next time: bring bigger duffel bags, bring an air mattress (the ground is really hard!), don't bother to bring the knitting or the novel (no time for that!), don't bother to bring a lawn chair, make time for a massage, learn how to manage the tent so it doesn't get so wet from dew, stretch more before getting in the car to go home, don't try to challenge to an ex track star no matter how little he rides these days - he will kick your ass.
  

My first dalmac will not be my last

I returned late last night from my very first dalmac. Dalmac is a 340 mile, 5 day bike ride from Lansing to Mackinaw City. I rode with my friend-in-law, Ken and his family. Ken and Buster have been super close friends since they were little kids. When I married Buster, Ken was just as much a part of the deal as Buster's parents and siblings. Luckily, Ken is one of those genuinely good people that you can't help but like. He and his dad and his uncles and cousins made me feel very welcome on this trip. I barely even noticed that I was the only girl in the group. By the end of the first day we were all laughing and trading barbs and having a fantastic time.

Here we are in Lansing about to get on our bikes for the 81.5 mile ride to Mt Pleasant.

Ken is the tall guy in the middle and that's me in the red and white jersey standing next to him. The guy on Ken's other side in the yellow is one of Ken's cousins and peeking over his shoulder is Ken's dad. Those two are a royal pain in the tush. The gentlemen on the far right and left are Ken's uncle and his uncle's friend. They were a joy to ride with.

Here's a stop in Lake George where we ate lunch and relaxed for a bit on the second day.
Day 2 took us 67.8 miles from Mt Pleasant to McBain. There were a ton of people on this ride. It seemed there were always other dalmac riders in view ahead or behind us, despite our late starts and long stops every day.

Here's some of our group on the road on day two.
That's Ken's uncle in front. See all the little banners below the orange dalmac flag? Every year you ride dalmac they give you another banner. He's ridden a LOT of dalmacs. So has Ken and most of the guys I was riding with.

When we reached McBain we grabbed our things from the baggage truck, hopped in Ken's van, and went to spend the night with Ken's aunt and uncle in Cadillac. They're super nice folks and they have a really beautiful house. They fed us a wonderful dinner and a fantastic breakfast the next morning and we all had a really nice time. Most of the boys slept on pull out couches and air mattresses. I got the guest bed and my own room. After hardly getting any sleep on the hard ground the night before, that bed was a little slice of heaven! I felt like a million bucks in the morning and I was more than ready for the 61.3 miles from McBain to Elk Rapids.

Day 3 was a great ride. The weather was perfect and the terrain was getting a little more hilly and scenic. I rode out ahead of the group for a while enjoying the rolling hills. On the third or fourth leg I was riding with Ken and his cousins. We cut loose a little and raced and chased each other through the hills. I had no trouble getting out ahead on the downhills, flats, and low grade climbs. But they all left me in the dust on the steeper climbs.

We pulled into Elk Rapids tired and happy. We gathered our things from the baggage truck, set up camp, and headed strait down for a dip in Elk Lake.
The water was a little chilly but it felt great anyhow.

Day 4 was the Day Of Pain. At 75.4 miles, the ride from Elk Rapids to Petoskey was the second longest day. It was also the hilliest day. 50 miles into the day we reached a low grade climb that went on and on. After about 2 miles of gentle climbing we came to a sign reporting a steep grade ahead. We turned a corner and arrived at The Wall. The Wall is an impossibly steep section of road. It's probably no more than a third of a mile long but it seems to head strait up. Walking up feels like climbing stairs. You really can't see how steep it is in the pictures.

Here's Ken's cousins climbing the wall. Look at that bum in the front showing off waving to the camera. He used to be a track star. I think that might be an unfair advantage here.

Here's Ken's cousin's friend climbing the wall. He rode that mountain bike the whole way. That guy's just plain strong. And determined.
Here's Ken climbing the wall. Ken did next to no training before this ride. With tactics, stubbornness, and raw strength he made it up the wall.

I'm a pretty strong rider and I trained quite a bit for this ride. But I couldn't get up the wall. I just wasn't strong enough.
I got within about 75 yards of the top before I simply couldn't turn over the pedals again. I stopped about 10 feet below where you see me standing. Next time I'll make it. It's one heck of a challenge!

When we reached Petoskey that evening I was more than ready to get off my bicycle. I could have used a nice long lukewarm shower. Instead, the showers were screwed up and the water was scalding hot. I ended up taking a sponge bath and washing my hair in the sink. I was tired and achy and crabby and I almost stayed behind when the guys went into town. As it turns out, sitting on the pier with a cold beer watching the sunset over Little Traverse Bay was the perfect balm for all my ills.

I couldn't help feeling a little sentimental and ended up with a couple great father-son photos.



The next day was the last. We had only 52.2 miles to ride from Petoskey to Mackinaw City. We slept in a little and took it easy, stopping several times and staying fairly close together for most of the ride. I ate ice cream and drank beer and enjoyed the scenery and the company.

Here we are a little more than half way through the day's ride at Leg's Inn in Cross Village overlooking Lake Michigan.
It was really a pretty day. We all took our time. I imagine everyone else felt the way I did. I was worn out and sore and glad the ride was coming to an end. At the same time I was sad that it was nearly over.

We arrived at Mackinaw City High School, our final destination, around 3:30pm. That must have been the slowest 52 miles I've ever ridden!
We tossed our gear in the van and strapped our bikes on top of The Chateau. We cleaned up a little and changed our clothes and hit the road.

Before turning south we made a quick stop for fudge and taffy and souvenirs near the Mackinac bridge where I snapped a picture.

It was a wonderful trip. I rode every mile of the route (except that little bit of the wall -- and I'll conquer that next time!) and had loads of fun hanging out with Ken and his family. I'm grateful to Ken for inviting me along. I couldn't possibly have fallen in with a more fun or friendly group. This will definitely not be my last dalmac. And I sure hope Ken and his family keep riding because I plan to crash their dalmac family vacations as often as I possibly can.

A challenging few days

Please excuse all the little tangents in this post. I thought about editing them out and decided to leave them so you can better see how busy and scattered I've been.

I'm heading out for DALMAC before the sun rises Wedenesday morning. This trip is unlike any other travel I've done before. Not only will I be biking long miles for five days strait (Lansing to Mt Pleasant to McBain to Elk Rapids to Petoskey to Mackinaw City), I'll also be camping. I've been camping with Buster a few times, but never a progressive camp where you have to tear down, move to a new location, and set up again each day. And I've done only one other multi-day bike trip. That was two days riding in California's Russian River Valley with a really wonderful friend that I don't see nearly enough of. She was a bridesmaid at my wedding and that trip was a bit of a bachelorette party with a touch less drinking and a lot more exercise than normally called for at such events.

That's us at Hop Kiln. We stayed in a great little Inn and had a wonderful time. But back to the point. A multi-day bike trip combined with camping is a new experience for me.

I'm a little bit of a nervous traveler. I spend days before any trip thinking about what I need to pack and gathering things and making sure things at home are taken care of and generally preparing. I'm even worse when it's some new kind of trip. So, I'm very very excited about DALMAC and I've been stressing myself out a little trying to get my things together and get ready to be gone from home and work for a week. I've also been trying to ride my bicycle as much as possible. So I've had a pretty packed schedule for the last couple weeks.

In the midst of my DALMAC preparation, I've had some fun family things to do. My challenging few days started out with some family friends in Bloomfield. They have a very nice house with a beautiful swimming pool and they invited us and the K's for a mid-week BBQ and pool party. BK was in town from San Francisco with her adorable daughter. I don't see them nearly often enough and BK is the big sister I never had. So I took half the day off to go play with my family.

I had a really nice time swimming with the girls and talking with BK and everyone else. I wish I would have stayed for the whole thing!

I left the party a bit early so I could meet up with the aabts in Plymouth for a ride on Hines Drive. As I was pulling out of the the neighborhood, one of these:


driving one of these:


was stopped at the stop sign in front of me trying to make a left hand turn in rush hour traffic. It was taking an awful long time for traffic to clear and he got frustrated. So he threw the giant SUV in reverse and backed strait into my poor little Ford Escort without a single glance in the rearview. (ok, the driver was a little older than the one depicted above, but not much.) We were on a residential street and I keep wondering, what if it wasn't my little escort, but somebody's dog, or worse yet, a child that he blindly backed into? It makes me a a little sick. And frankly, I must be getting old because it also makes me question the wisdom of allowing 16-yr-olds to operate dangerous machines.

In any case, now I have to deal with this:


That looks minor, but it's nearly $1500 in body damage to bumper and hood. On top of that, the car now sounds like someone tore the muffler off. My trustworthy mechanic (I know that sounds like an oxymoron, but Fox Auto on Dexter Rd in Ann Arbor is fantastic) took one listen and told me it's most likely a cracked exhaust manifold. Indeed, much to my surprise, some parts of the exhaust system are right there up front and they're brittle. He told me the accident almost certainly caused the damage.

The poor kid driving the SUV was quaking in his boots and near tears at the thought of giving me his insurance information or filing a police report. So I got his name and phone number and gave him mine and told him to have his parents call me the next day. (This is me being too darn trusting... Live and learn.)

By the time I arrived in Plymouth for my bike ride I was too late to ride with the club, but all was not lost. My friend Courtney was also a bit late so we had a nice ride together on Hines drive.

To add to the annoyances, before the family party I'd gotten a call from my sister-in-law, Sarah. She's married to Buster's brother so we also share the same last name. UofM health labs sent my blood test results to her. While I like and trust my sister-in-law, I'm a rather upset that the lab is not more careful to avoid a breach of privacy like this. I plan to call and complain and ask them to be more careful in the future. If they do it again, I'm thinking I might be calling a lawyer. (fyi, blood tests all came back normal and healthy. That's the good news. The bad news is I still don't know why I'm having such a miserably difficult time losing weight.)

I got up Friday morning and went strait to Dusty's Collision to get an estimate to fix the damage to my car. Then I went to my sister-in-law's office to pick up my lab results. Here's where she works:


That's the Deke Shant. It's owned by the fraternity Delta Kappa Epsilon, and houses their national offices. Sarah works for the national office. She gave me a tour of the building. It's smaller than I thought, but still very impressive. I especially liked the stained glass windows on the upper floor. Unfortunately I didn't get pictures.

By the end of the work day Friday (clearly I didn't get much work done) I still hadn't heard from the SUV kid's parents. I googled the phone number he gave me to verify that he wasn't trying to pull a fast one. The results matched the name he gave me and also spit out the first names of his parents and their address. I love google. I called and left a polite message on their answering machine asking them to return my call. I'm naturally a bit too trusting but I was really getting suspicious at this point.

The car thing was definitely stressing me out so I needed my Friday evening bike ride and post ride beer more than ever. Sadly, not quite half way through the ride the storms and rain that were only 30% likely landed right on top of us. We got soaked. So the ride was a bust but dinner and beer with my bicycle friends at Casey's was just as fun as ever.

Saturday, with a list as long as my arm of things I wanted to get done and still no word from SUV kid, I was getting very very frustrated. I called the number the kid gave me again around 11:30am. The mother answered. I told her I wanted to come up to Bloomfield and file a police report and go through insurance to get my car fixed and I told her about Dusty's estimate and the cracked exhaust manifold. She told me she would call me back in 20 minutes when her husband had left. She didn't want him to find out. She called back at 12:30pm to tell me she'd changed her mind and wanted to wait for her husband to return because it was so much money. When the husband/father finally called around 2pm he had some outlandish plan to have my car taken to his buddy's body shop in another town to be fixed. I handed the phone to Buster.

Buster may not always be the most sensitive or romantic of husbands but he always knows when and how to stand up for me. And that's way more important to me than flowers and candle light. He flat out told that guy NO. We would either do the right thing and file a police report and go through insurance or he would give us the money to get the car fixed here in Ann Arbor.

Michigan is a no-fault state so my insurance pays to fix my car when I'm involved in a traffic accident no matter who's at fault. And there was no damage (that I could see) to his giant SUV. I'm sure his insurance would be made aware of the accident, but I doubt they'd change his premiums unless the kid was issued a ticket. And I don't think it's possible for the kid to get a ticket since we didn't call the police to the scene. I can't figure out why filing a police report and going through my insurance to fix my car was a problem for him.

I could only hear Buster's side of the conversation but they were definitely not coming to an agreement. Buster told him we'd be filing a police report the next day. When he hung up he asked me if I had time to go right away. I hopped in the car and headed for the Bloomfield township police department immediately.

I expected to get chewed out for not calling the police to the scene. I didn't. The officer that took my report was very nice. When he asked if I'd called the other party to have them to come in and file the report with me I told him about the conversation with the father and that I simply wasn't comfortable contacting them again (honestly, every Hummer I saw in Bloomfield made me a little nervous). The officer gathered all my information, gave me a complaint number and sent me on my way within just a few short minutes. He told me he was going to follow up with the other party immediately. I was relieved.

I ran home, showered and dressed, and headed for Monroe (in my noisy car) where some close family friends were renewing their vows. I missed the beginning of the ceremony but the end was lovely and the party was great fun. I'll post pictures when I get them.

I was confident that the stress and hectic running around of the last few days was over as I pulled into my drive near midnight last night. It was a pretty warm evening and I was looking forward to walking into my air conditioned house and changing out of my dress clothes and relaxing with Buster for a bit. Only, when I walked in the door, the house was way warmer than it should have been, it was only slightly cooler than outside. oh dear...

So, on top of my mis-routed medical information, my messed up car, nearly getting screwed by rich people driving large scary SUVs, missing one bike ride and getting soaking wet on another, our AC was broken. Waah!

I bought myself a new pair of these to make myself feel better:

Some girls buy Manolo Blahniks, I buy Sidis. Also, I found a new favorite bike shop.

I feel much better now.

One Hundred Miles

One hundred point six to be exact. It's a bit of a long way. It's even longer when you're on a bicycle.

I finally completed my first century of the summer this past Sunday (egads! it's almost fall! took me long enough!). I've done other centuries in years past but this is my first one that wasn't part of an organized tour with dedicated food and rest stops. This was an AABTS club ride called the Sleeker Senile (S)Century. Sleeker hosts this ride on third Sunday of each month. I regret not bringing my camera. The scenery was great, but there was a chance of rain and I was paranoid.

The ride began at 8am in Dexter. 8am and I are not the best of friends, but I made it and I was ready to ride. Sleeker handed out cue sheets (for those that might not know, a cue sheet is a list of cues or directions including the distance between turns and the total mileage at each turn). At the top of the cue sheet it said "Olivet Out n Back 130". 130? 130 miles? Oh Boy! Ok, that was not what I had in mind but wasn't really a problem, it's an out and back route so I could turn around at 50 miles instead of 65 and have my century without killing myself. Click through to see my route.

We pulled out of Dexter and within a few short miles I knew I wasn't going to be able to keep up with the pack -- "the pack" being three very fit guys. About the time we reached Chelsea (shy of 10 miles into the ride) the guys had disappeared into the distance and I was firmly on my own. The weather was lovely and I pedaled along, quite happy to be riding at my own pace and enjoying the day. There was a bit of a headwind but I didn't let it bother me -- I knew it'd be at my back helping me along when I turned back toward home.

Around 25 miles in I was in need of a restroom and some water bottle refills. Just as I began to think about ducking into the woods to take care of the restroom portion I came upon Waterloo Recreation Area. This is where hulluva ride stops for lunch. I pulled in to the campground for a quick rest and refill.

Back on the road and about 45 minutes later I came across an unmarked intersection. The mileage showing on my bike computer wasn't quite right to be the turn I was looking for, but a construction detour in Chelsea and my detour into Waterloo had me a fair amount ahead of the mileage on the cue sheet. Maybe I had miscalculated. I was in completely unfamiliar territory so I pulled out some old maps from helluva ride and tried to figure out if I was still on them. While I was trying to decide which way to go another cyclist pedaled up and asked if I needed help. Her name is Dawn and she rescued me.

Dawn took a look at the cue sheet, pointed me in the right direction and offered to tag along for a bit. So I rode and chatted with Dawn for the next hour or so. When we reached the border of Jackson County she turned back and headed for home. I rode on into Ingham County toward Onondaga.

Onondaga is a teeny tiny little rural town about a dozen miles south of Lansing. The cue sheet recommended stopping here for food, rest, and refills. There was a nice little gas station/convenience store with picnic tables outside. I had a little lunch and a lot of water and Gatorade and I visited with another group of cyclists stopping for a snack. They'll be on the same dalmac route that I'll be on next week. Perhaps I'll see them there.

The Onondaga stop was just shy of the half-way point if I wanted to make a full century. So I got back on my bike and pedaled on up the road until my bike computer read 50.5 miles. The extra half mile was just to be sure. Better that I arrive back in Dexter with 101 miles than 99 miles because really wanted that century and I knew when I got back within sight of my car I'd be all done no matter what the mileage.

I passed a working oil well on my way up the road... Thought that was kinda cool. I didn't know we had those in Michigan. I reached the border between Ingham and Eaton Counties just as my bike computer reached 50.5 miles. So I turned around and headed back without entering Eaton. Three counties is enough for one day. The way back seemed shorter, though I had less company. I never really realized how pretty Michigan is until I started biking. This ride covered some very nice territory. The roads were more familiar on the way back and a gentle wind was helping me along so I rode a little easier and took more time to look around and enjoy the scenery.

I stopped again at Waterloo and went down by the lake this time. There were lots of families playing in the water and sitting on the beach and eating ice cream and generally enjoying the lovely weather. I hadn't planned on staying longer than it took to fill my water bottles and empty my bladder. But, with 75 miles down, I was getting tired and needed a little stretch and a short rest.

The last 25 miles were the most familiar and seemed to fly by. I had thought I might stop in Chelsea, ten miles from my destination, but when I got there I still had a full bottle left and was anxious to finish up. So I soldiered on.

As I rode the last stretch into Dexter I glanced down at my bike computer and relieved to see I wouldn't need to add any extra laps around town to reach the century mark. I was sore and exhausted and it felt wonderful to get off the bike. I had a few aches and pains but nothing serious. It was nothing like the time when my hand went numb on a century a couple years ago and I couldn't open a jar for two months. Or the time when I got saddles sores so bad on another century that I rode the last 5 miles without touching my poor tush to the saddle and couldn't wear underwear for a week. Or the time when I arrived home so dehydrated that I had a headache for two days. Yes, I think I've finally got this century thing figured out. My knees didn't even hurt the next day!

Not five minutes after I arrived in Dexter, two of the fast guys pulled in. They had done a full 130 miles. They must have set a blistering pace and they both looked at least as exhausted as I felt.

In case you're wondering, my ride time for 100.6 miles was almost exactly 7 hours. That's an average of 14.3 mph. The whole ride, with rest stops, took 8 hours. The 130 mile guys probably spent a little less time resting and probably averaged between 17 and 18 mph. That, in my opinion, is WICKED fast for that long of a ride. Someday maybe I'll be that strong! In the mean time, I'm pretty proud of my 100.6 miles.

The 2008 Hugos, part II (response to comments)

Wow! I've apparently attracted some attention with my Hugo post. Check out the comments on the previous post.

First, Mary Robinette Kowel has bunches of free fiction online here. Also, catching up a little on her blog after posting my Hugo rundown, I see she just sold a story to Subterranean Press. I, too, love Subterranean Press. Their books are treasures, both because they tend to choose wonderful stories and because they print and bind them with top notch materials and include the most beautiful art work. A Sub Press book is a tactile and visual pleasure as well as a good read. I'm looking forward to reading both Mary's online work and her Sub Press work. (Wow, a Hugo winner commented on my blog! That is so cool!)

I also got a comment from Nadine. I'm not sure who she is, but it sounds like she either knows Michael Chabon professionally or she's a knowledgeable fan. She indirectly pointed out that my rant was a bit harsh. She's right. I'm not sore about Michael Chabon, in particular, publishing SF under a mainstream imprint. To be quite honest The Yiddish Policeman's Union caught my eye even before it landed on the Hugo nominations list. I haven't read it yet simply because I'm a somewhat slow reader (especially during bicycling season) and my to-be-read pile is taking over my house.

Here's the problem: I can't decide if it's in the best interest of the science-fiction/fantasy community to hand a Hugo to a book printed under a mainstream imprint. On the one hand, the Hugo is and always has been a genre award. Is it a good idea to award Hugos to books that aren't publicly considered SF when there's so much excellent SF out there? On the other hand, this sort of thing might attract new readers and writers to the genre. By poking our heads out in the mainstream world and saying "hey, that mainstream novel is actually SF and we really liked it," we might make the literary world aware that a great deal of SF is literary, relevant, well written, accessible, diverse, and worth reading.

Did we award a non-SF work an SF award? Or did we recognize an outstanding SF story wrapped in a mainstream package?

Nadine's comments about alternate history are worth addressing here also. Alternate history has been a popular SF element for quite some time. PK Dick's The Man in the High Castle comes instantly to mind and is probably the most classic strait up example. Mary Gentle's Book of Ash series includes some fantasy elements as well as alternate history. The Axis of Time series by John Birmingham is a recently popular SF alternate history of WWII. I haven't read any Harry Turtledove, but he's known for writing fantasy alternate histories. I've read a ton of Tim Powers. Much of his stuff is considered secret history which I would consider the fraternal twin to alternate history.

I'm not particularly well read when it comes to modern mainstream fiction. If alternate history actually is a fairly common mainstream element, I'm not aware of it. Also, if the alternate history element in The Yiddish Policeman's Union doesn't make it SF, what does? Because if there's no science fiction or fantasy elements, it may very well be an excellent novel, but it shouldn't have been eligible for a Hugo. I don't care how amazing a book is, I think we want to exercise some care about what we set out there as the best sci-fi/fantasy novel of a given year. Anyhow, I'd better go read it before I get myself into any more trouble here.

To be perfectly honest, most of the angst in my rant comes from my brief experience with McCarthy's The Road. You see, when The Road first hit the shelves I was told I must go read this book. "It's SF, you'll love it," I was told. Oprah had just endorsed the book. Oprah's endorsement tends to be the mark of the beast in my mind. I just plain don't like the same books Oprah likes. The novels she endorses tend to be chock full of loneliness, misery, and woe. The Road is no exception. I stood in the middle of the bookstore and popped that book open to the middle (as I often do when I want to sample the flavor of a book) and started reading. I barely got through two pages before realizing that if I didn't set it down right away I was going to send it flying into into the far wall of the store. If mainstream readers think this is a good example of sci-fi... oh sweet lord save us my genre is doomed.

Look, Oprah, if you want to read loneliness, misery, and woe, go ahead, read The Road. If you want to read a well written, literary, post apocalyptic novel go check the SF shelves for A Canticle for Leibowitz by Miller. That's my favorite of the many post apocalyptic novels I've read. The post apocalypse is a super popular old school SF theme. It's been done a zillion times. Don't go thinking The Road is something new and different, because as far as I can tell, it's a miserable example of a well worn theme. It just got stacked on a different shelf.

So my angst about The Road got mixed up with my mixed feelings and reservations about handing a Hugo to a main stream novel that is of unclear sf-ness.

Directly, I apologize for calling Chabon a jerk. That was totally out of line. I'm sorry. I'm sure he's a very nice person and I'm impressed to learn from Nadine that he's a member of the SFWA. Also I don't find any fault with his inability to attend WorldCon. I'm even fairly sure I'll like his book when I read it. While I remain skeptical, I promise to withhold final judgment regarding the book's Hugo worthiness until after I've read it. It's now firmly on my winter reading list and I plan to report back here.