Something I never would have expected in my whole life.

There is a fencing-supplies company in the UK called Duellist. Strange: in their "media" section they had all this information on Iron Maiden — no, not the torture device, the band. I read more closely, and this is what I found:

The Duellist story began on the 25th of July 1988 in Chiswick, London. The company was founded by Bruce Dickinson, multi-millionaire and lead singer of the rock group "Iron Maiden". Bruce was a competitive International fencer who travelled round the globe. Slinging his guitar on one shoulder and throwing his fencing bag over the other, he fenced in more salles than arguably anyone else. Bruce quickly realised that his beloved sport was screaming for him.

Yes. Yes, indeed. I love this sport!!!!

Merry Christmas to you.

This Christmas I'm conscious of miracles. I mean that literally. Not as in "It's a miracle I got a parking spot" (although there are those of us who have received compelling evidence over the years that Mother Cabrini will, in fact, pull a few strings in that regard*). I mean unexplained — perhaps even unexplainable — changes in the world, in lives.

I'm also deeply conscious of my own inability to understand what happens in the world. Clearly there is more going on here than meets the eye. Or at least my eye.

This Christmas, I wish wonder and befuddlement for you. I wish perplexity. But not fear, because not understanding is not, in itself, scary (or shouldn't be). I wish you fearless cluelessness! That's the place from which learning begins, isn't it?

*"Mother Cabrini, Mother Cabrini, please find a spot for my little machini." I am not making this up.

Is this profound? It may be.

I don't understand what she means. But I find it strangely poetic.

"If your heart is your own I will fence with you."

I can't leave it alone. I turn it over and over, like one of those wooden puzzles you have to figure out how to take apart before you can figure out how to put it together.

"If your heart is your own I will fence with you."

And if it isn't? Whose would it be? How does that change my suitability as a fencing opponent? What does it mean when one's heart is one's own? And why does that matter to her?

Well, at least I'm consistent.

I've just procrastinated by doing a bit of data analysis on my sendouts-to-acceptances ratio over the past three years.



Conclusions:

1. I did better than I thought I would at sending stuff out this year, all things considered. And for the past three years, I've sent out a fairly similar volume of stuff.


2. My acceptance rate is also startlingly consistent: somewhere around one in seven of the things I send out ends up being accepted in one way or another (published, performed, accepted for workshopping, etc.).


3. Discouraging thought: plugging steadily along is not the same as gaining momentum. Encouraging thought: plugging steadily along is a lot better than giving up. Other encouraging thought: I still have — what did I say, eight? — pieces out, so the final 2009 acceptance rate may, in fact, go up.

And now, back to writing! The sendout stats (at least) for 2010 are going to show a significant uptick (as they say). I have spoken.

Aurealis shortlist

Congratulations to everyone on the shorlist for Aurealis awards this year, particularly my Clarion buddies Peter M. Ball and Christopher Green.

I had two stories in the running this year, and not having either of them shortlisted has spurred me on to a specific goal for 2010: I will write one NEW story a month during the year. I've actually done a pretty good job during 2009 of keeping my existing stories on the hop — rejection, resend, on and on. That's necessary and proper, and it gets results: occasionally, one of my stories gets accepted and must leave the nest pretty much forever. What I have not been doing is topping up the shelf stock as that's been happening. So now I have a very, very limited supply of stories I can send out. There are lots of reasons 2009 wasn't a big year in terms of wordcount, but most of those reasons are resolving themselves. Therefore 2010 will be a year of renewed energy and determination. I have spoken.

Mind you, I don't begrudge my friends their nominations — far from it. I'm thrilled for them. I have tremendous admiration for them as writers and as human beings. But next year I want to be sitting next to them, giggling in nervous anticipation, at the awards ceremony.

Let's just get a few things sorted out around here.

First, this:



Created by Oatmeal

(Thanks, Jason.)

All right, now we know. I can move on with my life. To this: eight reasons why juggling is good for you (originally spotted via boingboing). You may remember I have a serious love of juggling, both for its own sake and as an aid to creative thinking. Turns out this latter point was not merely my imagination after all (although it may have fortified my imagination)! So you should all take my advice and start juggling things right away. And no, as I have said before, metaphorical juggling does not count. Throw, throw, catch, catch, keep them going like that: a standard three-ball cascade. It's good for you.