Jack Vance: 1916 – 2013

Jack Vance has died.  Not one of my favorite authors, he nevertheless exerted tremendous influence, even on me, and is more than worthy of our remembrance.  I have written an appreciation over at the Proximal Eye, here.

Two More Tomorrow

Two more shots of The Men of Tomorrow, courtesy Jarek Steele of Left Bank Books.

 

Men of Tomorrow in concert
Men of Tomorrow in concert
Mood Soloing
Mood Soloing

Might use this last one for some kind of avatar somewhere.

 

The Men of Tomorrow

So, the other night, the 22nd to be exact, I committed Public Performance.  I had help.  Two brave musicians, both of whom are better at their respective instruments than I am at mine, joined me to play jazz-like music at the Mad Art Gallery where Left Bank Books and other St. Louis Independent bookstores celebrated World Book Night.  I mentioned this in a previous post.

The main event of the evening was an on-stage interview conducted by author Curtis Sittenfeld of author  J.R. Moehringer.

Here we see Left Bank’s Shane Mullen introducing them:

Speakeasy

The interview was great.  Lively, informative, and Moehringer is very entertaining.  Afterward came author signings, aimless milling about, imbibing (cash bar) and…us.

 

Men of Tomorrow

This event was the brainchild of Left Bank’s co-owner, Jarek Steele, who approached me one day at work a few months back and said, “Hey, I have an idea…”  I said yes.  Then later, I thought I said yes! Am I out of my mind?

This entailed gathering other musicians, rehearsals, and then renting a keyboard.  I had to learn a few new pieces, Rich and Bill had to figure out how to play along with the bizarre manner in which I play.  I have to admit, our first rehearsal was not promising.  My handicap is that I don’t usually perform with a group.  99% of what I do, I do solo.  That is a very different discipline than ensemble.  I had to overcome some bad habits (a couple of which I failed to overcome, but hey, nobody noticed), and get some chops down better than I’ve done in some time.

A word about the keyboard.  This detail almost ended the project before it began, because my piano is not portable.  Not really.  After calling around, I found MidWest Music.  These folks rent instruments.  Yes, they had a digital piano available.  They told me the model, I checked out a couple of demos, it seemed perfectly suitable.  Donna and I went out to set it up and…

Well, they had a brand new instrument they wanted to showcase, so I got an upgrade to a Roland RD-700nx.  Yes, I’m linking to the demo video so you can see why I had the musical equivalent of a one-night-stand with this.  I likened using this piano for this gig to taking a Ferrari to the supermarket.  It was far more instrument than I needed that night.

We showed up nameless.  I was asked by our events coordinator if we had one.  No.  One night?  A one-off?  A couple of things passed through my head, but…no.

Shane named us.  Suddenly we were “Mark Tiedemann and the Men of Tomorrow.”  After a moment of “Aw, come on!” I started to think, “Hey, that’s not bad. “  By the time we went on, I decided to ask him if we could keep it.  You know, just in case this ever happens again.

It has been a long time since I played at all seriously in front a room full of people I didn’t know.  It kind of surprised me how nerve-wracking it was.  But…

I always know when I’ve done okay because I come away from the performance with almost no memory of what I did.  Mistakes and just plain bad performances I remember with a clarity that cuts, but if things go more or less well, there’s just a hazy wash of “Yeah, I was there” and not much else.

I want to thank Rich and Bill here for making me sound as good as we did.  Bill is an exceptional drummer.  I can say this because he took the weird and rather undisciplined rhythms I play, made them his own, and glued the performances together.  Rich is an exceptional guitarist.

So that’s how my week started off.  How’s yours going?

Afterimage

I finished the first draft of the new (old) novel, a rewrite of a rather pathetic bit of crime fiction that I just could not give up on.  The chapters are being reviewed as I write this.  I’m taking some time off.  I put in some long days on this and it still isn’t ready for prime time.

Meantime, something somewhat disturbing to keep the reader wondering, “Just where did he go that weekend and who—or what—was he with?”

Alien Detective copy 2To tell you the truth, I’m not sure myself.  I woke up in my own bed, but the room looked too normal.  I stumbled to the bathroom and decided the hat had to go, but it helped, and I’m not sure I can get through what’s to come without it.  I need a shave.

There’s missing time.  Someone else is missing it, though, I remember every second of it.

I may be in the mood for some alien jazz.  On the other hand, the Fool’s March is drumming in the background and my eye is pulsing in rhythm to the slipped and syncopated beat.  Another day in Memeopolis, no body but the killer must be caught.  It should be up to me, but who’s gonna trust a face like that?  See, the hat it essential.

Whatever happens, I will be played out.  After the last coda and the ink is dry, sleep.  Not a big one, just medium-sized.  There are too many more stories to figure out.

Have a nice world.

New Mars

Yeah, I was goofing off this morning, trying to find a way into a rewrite, and needing to distract myself from overthinking it.  So I redid my header (see above).  It’s the same NASA image I had up before…only different.  I did some Photoshopping and added color and such.

The framing tool for WordPress, though, forces some heavy crops, so here is the full image as reworked:

Vibrant Mars!
Vibrant Mars!

 

As cool as the original was, it was also kinda monochromatic.  So I played around, did something more…Barsoom-ish.  Anyway, having once known how to add color to an image and then forgot the method, I have now rediscovered it and will use it a bit more often.

It occurs to me, though, that in all seriousness, should we ever settle Mars and start using it, over time the surface will change.  No, I’m not talking about the future of a terraformed world, where we intentionally put liquid water back on the surface and beef up the atmosphere.  Such grandiose plans are the precinct of science fiction, although that may well happen, too.  But I’m talking about the more likely scenario, the opportunistic, done-by-the-lowest bidder exploitation of resources, which will have “unintended” effects. The release of certain gases, minerals, and so forth, the addition of others, the detritus of industrial works, all will work to give us a show that may end up producing effects somewhat like this.  We’ll get a front row seat, via telescopy, of environmental impact.  It may even be beautiful in certain ways, but it will be obvious change.

Anyway, back to fiction, now.

New Me

I haven’t done any serious new shots of myself for a while.  A few opportunistic snapshots here and there, but nothing suitable for framing, so to speak.  Comic Con is coming up and I’ll be there and I was asked for a photo, so this morning Donna (patiently) indulged me and we did some new ones.  This one isn’t going out for a head shot, but I rather like it:

Me and Orchids, Feb 2013

She wanted one with the orchids and I don’t usually do profiles, so…

I had something in mind more like this, though, since I’ve been feeling a bit more physically…well, the way I’d like to feel…

Me, Doorway, Feb 2013

 

Sort of a catalogue feel, if you know what I mean.  What you imagine in the mind’s eye is rarely what you actually get, but I don’t think I’m likely to look much better anymore, given the nature of time and such like.

Combination of surgery and doggedly returning to the gym.  Cutting back on snacks, too—about all I allow myself anymore is the occasional oatmeal cookie.

 

 

I wanted to go for a noirish look, but I’m either just a bit too cheerful or not quite bleak enough.  The best I can achieve is a sort of nod in that direction.

Me, New Promo, Feb 2013

The hat makes it.  That’s my favorite hat.  Brought that back from Minneapolis many years ago.  My cool hat.  Sometimes I wear it to get in the mood to play some jazz, like here:

Me, Hat, Piano, Feb 2013

Michael LaRue shot that at the latest coffeehouse.  That was a nervous night, actually, so the hat was as much camouflage and shield as affectation (the bosses were there that evening) but it goes with the kind of music.

Probably, though, the way most people will remember me (assuming they do) is with a coffee mug in hand.

Me, coffee cup, Feb 2013

This wholly self-indulgent post is…self-indulgent.  Sometimes I need to be reminded of the reality, though.  Looking out through one’s own eyes, from the stand-point of whatever homunculus one has constructed to act as what we call “self image” is in need of occasional adjustment.  “Drift” in the sense of a mismatch between what you think people see and what is really there happens all the time.  Being reminded we aren’t quite what we think we are isn’t a bad thing from time to time, and the occasion for new “promo” shots is a good opportunity to reassess.

On the other hand, it’s also a good thing when it turns out that things aren’t as bad as they could be.

 

 

 

 

 

 

New Black & White

I’m still perusing my new Edward Weston and Ansel Adams books.  Sigh.  I lurves me good black & white.  Not that this image is particularly good, but it’s my most recent.

 

Moon Over Mundania
Moon Over Mundania

 

I’m working on a new novel.  Well, not new new, but new enough.  And reading.  And right now watching pesky snow fall and wishing  I didn’t have to go into work this afternoon.

So this is another marker till I have something meatier to post.  Enjoy and stay warm.

Place Keeper

I put up a review of David Mitchell’s Cloud Atlas over on The Proximal Eye.  The long and the short of it here is, I liked it.  I liked it a lot.  Go read.

I’m doing a little light reading now for the next few days while I get myself geared up to do a new novel.  (Henning Mankell, Dennis Lehane, maybe Greg Egan…)  The great office renovation is about over and I can work comfortably in here now.

For those of you with your heads tucked into your shells, it snowed last night.  Bah fucking humbug.  We stayed in, I wrote, I needed to do Other Things outside, but if I don’t have to I won’t do them in the snow.

Tomorrow there will be work-related interruptions to my lazing about.  See you after that.

Other Stuff, Sundry and Otherwise

I posted a new piece over at my Other Place, The Proximal Eye.  A few folks have expressed a bit of amazement that I began another blog.  After all, I’m constantly complaining of lack of time.

But I’m a writer, first and foremost, and call me shallow (you did! how dare you take me at my word…?) but getting words out in front of people is what being a writer is mainly about.  Being paid for those words is, of course, part of the plan, to which the new blog is a necessary long term component.  That will become clear.

I’m getting ready (soon, soon) to start work on a new novel.  Part of the delay is getting settled into a new schedule, since I have a Day Job once again.  Didn’t I tell you?  Yes, I work for Left Bank Books.  This is a heady combination of smart and unwise on my part.  I work in a bookstore now!  I have a book habit.  This is like employing a junkie in a pharmacy.

But after a few hefty purchases, I’m beginning to exert discipline.  Don’t know how long it’ll last, but we’ll see.

That aside, so far I’m enjoying it.  For one, the people working there are, without exception, terrific.  Eclectic, sure, but then what am I?  I can only hope to aspire to the level of eclecticism on display in the intellectual variety of the Left Bank crew.  If you live in St. Louis and have not paid the place a visit, well, what’s taking you so long?  Get your ass in there and marvel.

Now for another act of self-discipline.  I’m cutting this short, right here, now, and turning to my other writing—fiction.

Eat. Sleep. Read.  (Come in to the store, you’ll understand.)

Also, make time enough for love.