Honorable Mentioned

I was pleased to see both of my published short stories (ack, yeah, all two of them -- I'm sooo overdue for a fresh publishing credit) of the other year were among the honorable mentions for the "Best Horror of the Year" anthology put together by editor Ellen Datlow. Nice to see that, since Datlow's not an easy sell on fiction (I know, since she's rejected more than a handful of my stories over the years), and for both of my stories to get a polite tip of the cap made me smile for a moment.

I think the long fiction I'm working on this year (and will be working on next year) will make a much-larger impression on people than those short stories, assuming I can get a publisher to pick them up. Always the big IF in the mix.

Just listening to the rain right now, the thunder. I should go to bed.

Sleepy

I'm not actually sleepy. I'm a bit caffeine-jazzed from seeing "Inception" (had a giant Coke Zero). Anyway, I found it to be a disappointing movie. I'll review it at Pirouettiquette.

It's thunderstorming right now, although mostly just raining. Soothing sounds.

Napervillainous

Rich Horton from Naperville didn't like my story...

And "Aegis," by D.T. Neal, goes on rather too long in telling of a young artist's fascination with a much -- much! -- older sculptor named, significantly, Renee Euryale. It's obvious where this is going from the first, and the young artist -- nor a model he encounters -- just doesn't come to life.

Whatever! Some people really dug it, and others really didn't. I think the ones who didn't like it are more genre-hounds, and miss the nuances of the story, but oh, well. All the more reason to get some more credits, so there's even more stuff of mine out there to offend their delicate sensibilities. I really need to work on that, get people even more peevish.

I remember a coworker of mine (a native of the western suburbs) grousing about Naperville (because of Lysacek in the Vancouver Olympics) and saying how he is perfectly Napervillian (e.g., incredibly lame) and when I told her that I'd bought the White Donkey in Naperville, she said "The Donkey is the coolest thing to have ever come out of Naperville, believe me." Having been there, I can't exactly argue it. There's a whole lot of nothing out there.

Oooh, I'm so vindictive.

*holds hand out for a slap*

Reviews, Aegis

"Aegis" got another review. I don't think this quite gets the story, but at least the reviewer appeared to ultimately like the tale...

D.T. Neal's story 'Aegis' starts off interestingly enough as a young artist meets a legendary sculptor in the hope of learning something from her. Just as I was wondering where the story was going there was a sudden shift. First, briefly, a scene of unnecessary titillation that I thought was going to go downhill into seediness. This was averted by another change from the mundane to the fantastical that initially left me dissatisfied. D.T Neal skilfully ties the whole story up at the end, though, sculpting a story that is ultimately both intriguing and pleasing.

This one is far cattier, and seems to miss the point of the story almost entirely...

Aegis by D.T. Neal

Julian Stein, a young artist, falls in love with the work of famous sculptress Renee Euryale. Unfortunately, any reader with a classical education will at once understand what her secret is and how this story will likely end. Unfortunately for the protagonist, his education was lacking in these details.

It is too bad, as this story offers some insights into the nature of art and creation, but either the readers are supposed to be screaming at the characters as if they were watching a B horror movie—"No! Don't go into the mansion!"—or they are supposed to be shocked at the final revelation, which just falls flat. The editorial blurb declares that it was the 2nd place winner of the 2008 Aeon award, which makes me wonder if the judges had the benefit of a classical education. O tempore!

It was, of course, intended for Euryale to be exactly who she was. I mean, good lord, the title alone should be a nice tipoff for anybody paying attention, which is, in itself, a key point of the story. I liked the idea of Euryale not having to truly hide who she was because the nature of the world today allows for it, where everybody looks and nobody sees what's right in front of them. What is a Gorgon in this world except a relic to an almost charmingly simple past? Had she named herself Renee Smith, would it have made any difference whatsoever? If anything, there would have been diminishment in doing that. I liked keeping her surname "Euryale" precisely because it pointed to her being exactly who (and what) she was, and people not even getting who she was. I think she meant to write "O tempora!" but why quibble, right?

Wow

A childhood friend of mine read "Aegis," and he offered a very thorough commentary on it, which I had to post, because it was pretty amazing...

I finally got a chance to read your story yesterday, and I'm very glad I did. I'm sure others have gnawed over Aegis' characters, dialogue, plot, etc. the way wolves do with visceral matter still recalicitrantly adhering to a shoulder; so, I'm taking an alternative approach. I really enjoyed the way you described Euryale's home. It encapsulated her.

Many other writers utilize the setting as an enlarged prop which, at times allegorically, queered the lines of subjectivity and objectivity along with the character herself. The semiotic effect between her home and herself seems to oscillate to the point that, in spite of her secrecy, it exposes her personality. From Julian's initial encounter with her home until his final confrontation, you reveal Euryale's character in the same way one tours an historical manor, converted into a museum. Reading it in that perspective, I see her not as a tragic heroine, but a waste of life and an intended blight upon humanity, as she saw herself through her gods' perspective: "'the ... curses they bestow upon us, the less fortunate.'" Her property presents itself as an oxymoron: wild yet conservative, no trespassing yet enter if you must. Both she and it weigh visitors with a scale for earnest sincerity (or ... do you really wanna' go there).

The garden grants Julian a first impression of Euryale's persona. After bypassing the reclusive compound's "impassible" fence, that contradictorily was "not entirely adequate to the task," he observes the "well-tended" wild roses all pink and white, with nary a red one. While Julian recognizes the maintained order, he fails to regard the significance of color. I believe that you reveal that their owner has a strong degree of control without passion, as evident with the absence of red blossoms. The wild variant of roses might imply that she does not inherently align with our laws and culture, a bit more than marching to the beat of her own drummer. From the wild roses wrapped around one of her victims (the statue of a trespasser), I infer that she enthralls her victims, regardless of their entry, until it's too late for them. The flowers (and their stems) ensnare her prisoner, granting no quarter, and obliging a permanent suffering. She even explains that "'no one enters my garden without invitation.'" Euryale knows exactly who walks her grounds, or rather, interacts with her; how intimate they familiarize themselves with her, is entirely up to her. She weighs their desire and determines the degree of wanting.

Her home's interior allegorically mirrors her mind. Throughout the hallways and front rooms, paintings of landscapes and portraits of those she knew are displayed; "every inch of the walls was taken up with paintings." These paintings show her age and travels - the teleological significances. Yet, they hang dispassionately, with more affection to the frames or imposed prisons containing them. She brings him into the cold living room which presents a culturally modern look to make visitors suppose she's image conscious. But, it's the coldness Julian feels about the room which informs the reader that Euryale cares little for it or the occupants frequenting it. She even frankly admits to Julian that her talent for painting is "adequate" at best. He completely misses her dispassionate take on life, as if it now bores her. Later on in the story, she hints about the artwork in her other rooms, paintings of others that knew her more intimately, but these memories share the same apathetic feel as they hang on her walls and consume space in her immortal memory. Julian recognizes upon his entrance on the grounds that, "the house felt lonely, and he felt sympathy with that." As his interaction with her continues, he fails to understand that Euryale, too, experiences those pangs, and that the house mirrors it.

Only when he arrives at her inner sanctum does he begin to realize Euryale's banality and lack of panache. For her, this room is her inner sanctum - where she conducts her work and where she reveals her identity. It's spartan minimalism denies any interpretation; its blank white walls, mundane track lighting and glass block windows (which eliminate any inspiration from the reality outside) present an uninspiring studio, and Julian calls it like he sees it: "'You're not a sculptor, you're a fraud' ... " She may have relocated some of her work or other memorabilia around to other rooms, like Clive's to her bedroom, but this studio is where the magic (or lack thereof) happens in her existence. Her bland studio explains much about her thoughts and life, along with the mirror - capturing her true being and revealing something as devoid of vivacity as the statues she damns.

"'You're not even an artist, you're a monster.'" Yep, even the house with its snake-like Gothic slate tiles and cold iron gate hint at her nature: taloned hands, snakes for hair, controlled wild garden flowers imply a subtle mythical creature who desires to "'remind people that nightmares still walk the world.'" This self admission confirms what her guest Julian felt all along. Moreover, her distaste for the word monster reinforces her earlier self description as one of the cursed less fortunate. Yet it's the subtlety that I cannot shake. Julian wanted to see her. He repeatedly ignores all the warnings she offers and pays attention to her seductive mystery to the point that he exposes himself as he truly is, through his artwork. She weighs his earnest sincerity and finds it not wanting but appealing. Just like the house, it gauges visitors (desired or undesired) and determines whether its facade keeps people away or grants the more determined access to its interior. Once inside, the walls and rooms subtly show nothing more than the disdain for life and her history, until one reaches her studio and observes the absence of everything - a living being devoid of a soul.

Movie: Daybreakers

I saw "Daybreakers" the other day. I was psyched about it (the trailer looked very promising), but it didn't deliver. The concept was good enough -- a world where vampires took over, and humanity was on the road to extinction. Cool, right? Playing with Richard Matheson's wonderful "I Am Legend" concept.

But the directors (who were also the writers, and it showed) failed to execute their promising premise. It was faint filmmaking -- nonexistent (or flimsy) characterization, and meek plotting. It ended up a case where it lacked strong enough characters to be character-driven, and the plot wasn't thick enough to be plot-driven. The bad guys weren't bad enough, the good guys weren't good enough, the subplots weren't engaging enough. As a movie, it just showed up, really created this whole Screenwriting 101 kind of impression with me.

There were a couple of genuinely horrific moments, and a couple of arresting images, but as whole, the piece just failed. Some people have referred to it as a "popcorn movie" -- I hate that expression, but this movie failed even as that. If you want an actually entertaining "popcorn movie" then see "Deep Rising." It's actually thrilling, is well-written and paced, and is amusing. Good stuff. That's worth your time. This movie, however, isn't.

Aegis, reviewed

Got a nice mention on this reviewer's page (below). Always nice to see...

http://essentialwriters.com/albedo-one-review-5032.htm

I submitted a couple other stories at some magazines. Have to hit the ground running in 2010.

Food: The Gemini Bistro

I ate at the Gemini Bistro last night, and really enjoyed it. It's on Lincoln Avenue, and has a lot of dark wood and old-school kind of elegance and ambiance. Everybody's impeccably-attired and the service was tip-top. It classifies itself as an "American bistro" -- which to me means a bistro with fast service, for which I'm grateful, not being one who likes to wait.

I had the Prix Fixe menu (served from 5 to 6:30 p.m.), which is three courses for $31 ($49 if you want wine with each course). I opted for the lobster bisque, short-rib ravioli, and German chocolate cake.

The bisque was really tasty, with very tender lobster chunks in it, great color and seasoning. I could have probably had that bisque the whole evening, just with some bread (the bread is served in shiny metal cones with attached butter caddies). Great flavor. I savored it.

The short-rib ravioli was tasty, qualified as a "medium" plate serving (Gemini does small, medium, and large plate servings, depending on the menu item), and while it was maybe a half-dozen round raviolis nicely seasoned and accompanied with shards of aged parmesan, it was enough, I found, to fill me up. The taste was good -- rich and hearty, but also very delicate.

The dessert was beautifully plated -- a three-layer German chocolate cake, a square of reasonable size (in Chicago terms -- everything here is served in bistro portions), and a pretty little dollop of hazelnut ice cream atop a hazelnut fruit spread (I asked the waiter about that, and he told me what it was, but I forgot the fruit that was representing, there), and a sprig of mint. The cake was tasty, if not mind-blowing, but the ice cream was a nice treat, served very cold and it kind of upstaged the cake a bit.

The bar is a nice, long, broad thing, and they do full meal service there, too. I had the best Old-Fashioned I'd ever had in Chicago there -- their "Velvety Old-Fashioned" which was a blend of Maker's Mark, Cointreau, and Bitters, with the requisite mulled cherry and orange wedge garnish. It was fantastic. I often use the Old-Fashioned as my benchmark beverage for a bar, to test their mettle -- not because it's a complicated cocktail, but because it's such a simple one. And I am pleased to say that they nailed it -- strong and flavorful, I had two of them, and had a little trouble putting my jacket on when it was time to leave, and my head was spinning for about an hour after leaving. That is one good cocktail!

I had no complaints about the food or the service -- both were very good. I don't have any complaints at all, really. The Gemini is a nice place -- very Chicago, in its mix of elegance coupled with a lack of pretension. The only discordant notes (and they're minor, truly) were the music -- when I came in, Cream was playing, which just doesn't fit with the decor and overall ambiance of the place. Not that one wants the trademark Smooth Jazz(tm) or whatever, but it just didn't fit with the beauty of the place -- the music changed later, but it still wasn't quite right. Also, the television in the top corner above the bar seemed out of place. Sure, I get it -- a bar with a television -- who doesn't have that? But at the same time, the place seems too sharp for such a common contrivance. Maybe its absence would be felt, but something about the Gemini Bistro, to me, makes it seem a classier place than that.

But those are very minor complaints. I enjoyed the food, loved the cocktail, savored the ambiance, and appreciated the setting. All in all, I'd say it's well worth your time, if you're in the area. A great place for brunch, lunch, and most definitely a place to take a date.

Four out of five stars: * * * *

http://www.geminibistrochicago.com/

Albedo 1

Looks like Issue 37 of ALBEDO 1 is finally available for the reading public. My second-place Aeon Award-winning short story, "Aegis," is in there, if you're jonesing for some kickass fiction...

http://www.albedo1.com/

There are some reviews out there for my short story, "Rotgut," which was in Issue 36 of ALBEDO 1. Here are a couple I found. First, from Colin Harvey...

"D. T. Neal's 'Rotgut' takes the theme of alien infestation to its furthest extreme, and maybe beyond. A terrific story."

Also, from Stephen Hunt's SF Crowsnest...

'Rotgut' by DT Neal was a rather frightening story. A man explodes on the train and infects everyone with a strange alien parasite. We know the man in the story is doomed from the start but we follow his progress, analytically from a microbiologist's point of view, to witness the parasite take hold of his body. I've read many stories in the past before about parasites, including 'Invasion Of The Body Snatchers', that have always been from the perspective of an observer. Neal gets right inside the host to realistically let you know what's happening. Chilling to say the least!

Finally, from Tangent...

“Rotgut” by D.T. Neal is weird. A man on a train blows up. No, he’s not a terrorist, he’s been infected or infested. I can’t say a whole lot more without spoiling the story, and I don’t want to do that. I liked it, in a morbid sort of way.

So, that's nice, although I'm very curious how people receive "Aegis." I think it's one of my best short stories to date.

Definitely give ALBEDO 1 a look, if you get the chance.