It’s chilly today, and Arya seems to think the only thing worth doing is napping on the couch. I’m trying to take his advice and take it reasonably easy. Part of me feels like I should be diving into summer writing, but I just don’t want to, and I suspect that’s a sign that I got a little burnt out this spring, and I need mental rest as well as physical.
So I’m trying to stick with doing just what I want to do, interspersed with the few things I HAVE to do this week. Which means lots of gardening, which consistently makes me happy, lots of reading, some cleaning and organizing, plus a few annoying financial / medical / computer tasks. Sigh.
At least the reading is good — I’m starting Sofia Samatar’s new novel (we’re recording a podcast with her on Sunday), and after that, I get to read a draft of a grad school friend’s manuscript. Yay.
Checked one of the most annoying tasks off yesterday, and my e-mail is working again now (thanks, Darius!), will try to get through another task or two today. Hoping to feel motivated to write soon — if it doesn’t kick in on its own by the end of the week, then Monday, I’ll try to impose a little discipline and see if that works better.
Following, a few announcements!
EVENTS:
Local friends, if you’re free, I’d love to see you in River Forest Thursday night — I’ll be doing an event at the library for Tornado, 7-8 p.m. “When Oak Park–based author Mary Anne Mohanraj learned she had breast cancer, she immediately began recording the details in her blog. These entries became the new book Tornado, an honest, day-by-day account of diagnosis, chemo, surgery, radiation, and reconstruction, over a three-year period. At this event, Mary Anne will read from her book and discuss her experience as a breast cancer survivor. Brought to you in partnership with the River Forest Township.”
Details here: https://www.facebook.com/events/1121322322511230
And if you don’t feel like coming to hear me read about cancer (it won’t be depressing, I promise!), that’s ALSO the night the SLF’s Deep Dish rapid-fire reading is happening in Chicago at Volumes. Yes, I shouldn’t have cross-scheduled that, oops. But Angeli Primlani and Darius Vinesar will give you a great show!
This Saturday, you can also see me at What’s Blooming on Harrison — I’ll have a booth and be there all day with my resin and other crafty things, plus cookbooks, curry powder, etc. I might have marshmallows and milk toffee, but only if the weather cooperates — if it’s too humid, attempts at candy-making generally lead to disaster for me….
Details: https://www.facebook.com/events/1520168058824798
PUBLICATIONS!
Oh, I forgot to tell y’all that I had a story published Sunday!!! This tells you how little brain I have right now; I don’t publish stories so often that I should forget to tell people!
It’s “Fated,” a sequel to “Expulsion,” (though I think it works as a stand-alone, both published in The Sunday Morning Transport. There’s an excerpt up to read, and you can finish the story with a 7-day free trial. You might want to read the first story first — here, I’ll link them in order.
Expulsion: https://www.sundaymorningtransport.com/p/expulsion
Fated:
https://www.sundaymorningtransport.com/p/fated
“Fated” is in part a meditation on AI, and what happens when you trust a computer with your life and future…
Fated
by Mary Anne Mohanraj
Her ancestors had consulted fortune tellers who read the future in the stars. They could do better now; her aunties swore that the AIs just knew what was coming. They weren’t real AIs, of course—for all humanity’s advancement, true machine sentience was one barrier that hadn’t yet been cracked. None of the aliens they’d met had self-aware AI, either—or if they did, they didn’t broadcast that information. But what humans had created so far was close enough for many—feed enough information in, and the machine fortune tellers would generate a vision of what was to come.
Appa waited in a flyer outside the courthouse door, careful to avoid any chance of being recorded by passersby. It wouldn’t help the family business for him to be associated with his criminal daughter. The door irised open for her and Anju climbed inside.
He asked, “They’re recording?”
Anju raised her hand, displaying the golden bangle that fit over her wrist. Too tight to slide off. “Audio and video. The judge didn’t think I needed to have my chip monitored.” A fragment of privacy left to her.
Her father grunted. He’d be careful with his words. “I saw the sentence on the news. Expulsion off-planet in three days.”
“I can appeal.”
He frowned. “We’ll discuss it when we get home. Manish is waiting for you.”
That was unexpected, and Anju felt a little flutter of something in her chest. She’d been numb since the attack, all emotion drained out of her at the sight of Bedi’s body on the floor, blood seeping from her head.
Her errant husband had returned. Maybe Manish felt bad for abandoning them. Maybe if he’d stuck around, none of this would have happened.
“Can we go to the hospital?” Bedi was still unconscious three days later. “I haven’t seen her since . . .” The city guards took me away to isolated custody.
Her father hesitated, then said, “That’s not a good idea. We’ll sort this all out at home.”
Anju sighed. “Yes, Appa.” She had no heart to fight him—and Rohit, the light of her life, would be at home. Maybe when Anju saw her little boy, she’d remember how to breathe.
Fortune-telling was expensive, but worth the price. So Appa always said—he consulted the machines before any major business decision. He’d consulted them before arranging her marriage, too, which did make Anju wonder. But Appa said it was her fault that Manish had wandered off. Even the machines couldn’t control a difficult daughter…
Keep reading: https://www.sundaymorningtransport.com/p/fated
Whew! That’s it for now…
