RadioBoise

Interview by the Writer’s Block of Emily and me.

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Reader Book Plug!

Glenn Reynolds, master of the interwebs, just gave me a Reader Book Plug.  Thanks, Glenn!

 

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City of the Saints Historical Note #5

Brigham Young may or may not have really denounced Levi-Strauss jeans as “fornication pants.”  His proposed State of Deseret was rejected by the United States Congress in favor of a significantly smaller Utah Territory in 1850, which was still twice the size of present-day Utah, of which he was the first governor.  George Q. Cannon was an Apostle, a Territorial Delegate to the United States Congress, a newspaper publisher, mission president, and writer. His long presence in the upper ranks of Mormon and Utah leadership without ever becoming head of either the church or the territory may be why he was called by some the “Mormon Richelieu.”

Orrin Porter Rockwell was a frontiersman, accused assassin, sometimes lawman, and saloon owner.  Joseph Smith did promise him that if he was loyal and didn’t cut his hair, “no bullet or blade” would harm Rockwell.  He remains a beloved and quirky figure in Mormon popular consciousness today.  John D. Lee has not fared so well.  Though in his lifetime he was a beloved leader and believed to possess rare spiritual gifts, he was involved in the deservedly infamous Mountain Meadows Massacre, an atrocity for which he was — eventually — shot by a firing squad.  Lee maintained to the end that he was a scapegoat.  Bill Hickman, a Mormon frontiersman like Lee and Rockwell, wrote an autobiography confessing to a number of murders and implicating Brigham Young.  It’s not clear how much of his book was pure fiction; neither he not Young were ever charged for any of the crimes to which Hickman confessed.  On a personal note, Bill Hickman murdered one of my wife’s ancestors, Isaac Hatch, and if I have made Hickman out to be an illiterate, gap-toothed, coward, well… he deserved worse.

Ann Eliza Webb was, after an earlier marriage and divorce, one of Brigham Young’s polygamous wives.  She left Mormonism and became an early feminist critic of it, though the accuracy of her book has also been contested. She had a rough life, and in making her a kung fu chick in this novel, I mean no disrespect; I would like to imagine Annie Webb as a freewheeling, high-kicking, happy young woman, and not the serial divorcee estranged from her own family that she became.  Eliza R. Snow was a teacher, poet, historian, and polygamous wife.  She was the first secretary of the Nauvoo Female Relief Society and later, in Utah, president of its successor organization.  Her radical theological poem “Invocation, or the Eternal Father and Mother,” is included in today’s LDS hymnal under the title “O My Father.”  In that poem, Snow writes: In the heavens are parents single?  No, the thought makes reason stare!  Truth is reason, truth eternal, tells me I’ve a mother there.  She was an adventurer of the mind, heart, and spirit, and in my view has always been the true romantic heroine of City of the Saints.

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No Protection Where You Need It

“Shout.”

Jacob looked at the door.  “Really?”

Pilate nodded.  He muttered more Sumerian, gesturing over his own face.  Then he stepped closer, leaned forward, and cupped one hand around his hear.  “Shout it as loud as you can.”

“Okay.”  Jacob cleared his throat.  He hollered, again in Infernal.  “You really are just too damn stupid to live!”

The word damn in Infernal ruffled the hair around Pilate’s ears, and the Roman’s eyes widened in surprise.  As his mouth split into a grin and he started to say something, Jacob kicked him as hard as he could, right in the crotch.

Pilate rose into the air, his eyes growing even wider.  His arms flapped wide, like wings, and as he came down, Jacob caught him with both hands, one around Pilate’s throat and the other gripping the Roman by his fighting wrist.

“Mrump—” Jacob choked the Roman’s words into silence, then twisted and slammed his enemy to the floor.  Before the sorcerer could do anything but arch his back in pain, Jacob was on top of him, chains clanking heavily as he drew the other man’s dagger and pressed it against his throat.

Jacob’s toes hurt.

“I know,” Jacob hissed savagely into Pilate’s ear, ignoring the throbbing in his feet.  He didn’t have enough attention to spare any for the door; he just had to act fast and hope for the best.  He pushed the dagger hard enough to draw blood from under the Roman’s jaw.  “This wasn’t how you expected things to go.  But that’s a toga for you… no protection where you need it.”

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Platte Clark Apologizes to You

Peter Jackson won’t return his phone calls.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SwdHk5C5x6g

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Earth Has the Lock on Moral Decadence

“Why is everything in your father’s kingdom so ugly?” she asked.

“I don’t know if it’s ugly,” Jim said, “so much as it’s homemade.”

“What, Heaven has all the factories?”

Jim nodded.  “Which means that Hell has a punk aesthetic.”  Snocker got the door open and shuffled aside.  The minion’s perpetually bleeding knuckles had left orange smears on the stone of the door.  “Do it yourself, you know?  There’s a reason rock and roll is Hell’s music.”

“I thought it was the rebellious attitude and the moral decadence.”  Qayna grinned.

“Nope.” Jim walked into the Council Chamber.  “Earth has the lock on moral decadence, everyone in Hell toes the line.  They have to.”

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Timpanogos

Timpanogos (City of the Saints, part the third) is out now.  Switch on the vibro-blade and buckle up, this steam-truck is about to take off!

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City of the Saints Historical Note #4

The inventors in City of the Saints deserve a short note.  Isambard Kingdom Brunel built railways, bridges, tunnels, and the first propeller-driven transatlantic steamship.  In 2002, he came second to Sir Winston Churchill in an extended survey to find the greatest Briton ever.  Eli Whitney invented the cotton gin, one of the key advances in the industrial revolution, which also had the effect of strengthening the economic basis of slavery.  I don’t think Whitney, a Massachusetts man, intended that outcome, so in City of the Saints I instead made him the inventor of the clocksprung technology that ended slavery and resulted in Harriet Tubman’s exodus to Mexico.  Hiram Stevens Maxim did invent the first silencer; he also invented the first portable, fully automatic machine gun, which inspired Hilaire Belloc’s famous couplet Whatever happens, we have got / The Maxim gun, and they have not.  Sam Colt manufactured the first commercially viable mass-produced revolver.  Horace Hunley was a New Orleans lawyer who built hand-powered submarines for the Confederates during the American Civil War.  His invention career and legal practice both terminated when he personally took command of one of his ships during a routine exercise and it sank.  Orson Pratt was a mathematician and astronomer.  He was also one of the inventors of a primitive odometer that the Mormons attached to the hub of a wagon wheel to measure miles traveled as they crossed the plains westward.  John Moses Browning, finally, was an Ogden kid and son of a gunsmith who became arguably the most influential gun designer ever.  His M1911 pistol was the standard-issue sidearm for American armed forces from 1911 to 1985, and is still widely popular today.

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Fandemonium

This year was my first time attending my local fandom convention, Fandemonium (in Nampa).

I had a great time cross-pitching books with Carter Reid, Michaelbrent Collings, and Holand Peterson.  I sold a few of my own too, and gave out CDs and flyers for ebooks.  Sat on panels about Humor in Horror and Self-publishing with Michaelbrent, Carter, and A.J. O’Connell.  Bear Putnam and I took turns at the mic in a nearly impromptu filk concert, which was fun and (probably much-needed) practice.

Overall impression: this con is way more about costumes and loud dance beats and videogames than books.  Still, it was fun, and there was a literature component, and it’s my local con, so I expect I’ll be there again next year.  Especially if we can get UFO to show up.

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What Is Steampunk? (Song)

I wrote a song for the first Salt City Steamfest, and performed it at the late night pajama party.  Here’s the lyric:

Letter from the Red Planet

Dear Mama, I’m having fun

Underneath a pinprick sun

Pith helmet and a radon gun

Deep in the jungles of Mars

Everything they say is true

The only thing I miss is you

We’ve a kinotrope, a park, a zoo

The latest radium cars

I don’t know where we’re going

But I hope it’s like where we’ve been

The future is behind me now

Let the adventure begin

The Company’s the place to be

For an enterprising lad like me

In the Tharsis or the Siren Sea

To live and to die

Promotions come quick like they say

Plantation land for bonus pay

Yeah, I know they’re trying to get me to stay

I might just give it a try

I don’t know how it happened

But I’m starting to feel right at home

Deimos and Phobos above

Martian oceans to roam

I met someone the other day

She’s pretty in the strangest way

She’s eight feet tall, her skin is gray

Four arms, and hair of dark blue

We played out several hands of whist

Strolled in the Barsoomian mist

I held her lower hand, we kissed

Ma, she reminds me of you

And I don’t know where she came from

But I hope we never have to part

She’s the eight feet tall Martian queen

Gray-skinned and blue-haired queen

She’s the four-armed Barsoomian queen

Queen of my heart

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