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/

Thanklessgiving

I'm going to take advantage of the current situation to get a lot of writing done over the weekend.

An agent took a pass on one of my books. No big deal, it was, perhaps, a longshot, anyway, but I had to try. I'm putting together another proposal for him, another book I have that is very nearly ready to go (I'll finish that up this weekend). This one may (?) be closer to what he's looking for, and I hope he appreciates that I'm slinging another work his way this soon after corresponding with him on another work. He's a good agent, gets those deals, so that's something I can look forward to, if I luck out and he considers this other proposal.

I need to organize my writing station more -- I have several file boxes for my hard copy, but I need to consolidate, have it in one place, in a cabinet with a lock and key. Something portable, but larger, and more centralized. Just for the sake of organization.

Putting the Horse Before the Cartwright

I have accidentally had a Veronica Cartwright filmfest going, lately. Kinda funny, really. It started with watching "ALIEN" the other day, where she plays the rather emotionally-fraught Lambert (curious bit of trivia -- the shot of her death, when the alien's tail appears to be suggestively snaking oh-so-sinuously between her legs -- that shot was actually of Harry Dean Stanton's feet from an unused bit of footage. The reveal is that Lambert always wore cowboy boots, not sneakers, as is seen in the shot. Plus, if you watch the deleted scenes, you'll see it. So, oddly enough, Ridley Scott, I'm guessing, was looking at the footage and decided to slip that footage in there, and I guess they forgot continuity with the boots or something. Or the desire to have that sort of rape imagery was so strong that they didn't fuss with the details of it). But Scott's choice is kind of curious, really -- it points to them not thinking about the continuity of that until afterward, and, I guess, not being able to reshoot a sequence with Lambert's boots on. In that day of non-CGI movies, directors had to do what they had to do.
Anyway, after that, the other day, I watched "The Birds" -- which has a teenaged Veronica Cartwright in it, doing what she does best: being emotionally fraught! I saw her name in the credits and was like "WTF?! She'd have to be very young in this." And, sure enough, she was. She played the hero's daughter, Cathy. And sure enough, watching it, it's her, alright. The same frail, fragile, cracking-apart-at-the-seams kind of performance.

Finally (and this one isn't due, yet, as I ordered it, and it has not yet arrived) is the remake of "Invasion of the Body Snatchers" -- in which Veronica Cartwright plays a role as an emotionally fraught human being who is memorably "outed" in the end.

Just funny -- I didn't plan on this, but just stumbled into it, as is my way. I think there is a kind of typecasting that can work for you in Hollywood, if you're able to find a workable niche. It certainly worked for Veronica Cartwright. I'm kind of wanting to look at what other movies she's starred in, to see what other roles she's played.

(searches IMDB)

Wow, she's gotten a lot of work -- 120 acting credits to date. April 20 birthday. Taurus? Hahah, figures! English, but grew up in America. Okay. Stuff I've seen...

"The Right Stuff" -- she plays Gus Grissom's wife, Betty. I am sure she was emotionally fraught when she finds out what happened to Gus.

"The Witches of Eastwick" -- she plays Felicia Alden -- I can almost remember that. I vaguely recall an emotionally-fraught woman who is plagued by the witches at some point. Maybe a Bible-thumper? That rings a mental bell with me. Something about her spitting up cherries? Some sympathetic magic?

In "Nip/Tuck" she's Mother Mary Claire -- I'd need to see that episode she was in again, but I'm betting she's some kind of emotionally-fraught nun in that.

Still, she's got a shitload of credits, so good for her, workin' her thing.

Movie: Robots

My boys like the movie, "Robots" -- it's a cute movie, beautifully computer-animated. Really very impressive along those lines. But I watch that movie, which is a perky parable of capitalism and a son finding his way and following his star, and, of course, me being me, my mind spins the story into something dark and dystopian.

I mean, this world resembles our own, but it's populated entirely by machines. Everybody's a robot. Robot dogs, robot birds, robot everything. But they're still doing very human things -- having families, eating "ice cream," going to parties (drinking evocative oil martinis with nuts in them in lieu of olives), frequenting corporate board meetings, and so on. They're machines pretending to be human beings (and they have emotions, too, mind you).

So, I look at it and cynically spin the story -- that this is a world where humanity fully managed to replace itself, having done so in a manner so completely that the machines that replaced us (since there are no organic lifeforms on this world -- even the trees are robots) don't even behave as machines would. They are living machines, and, thus, are imperfect creations, now, or appear to be.

Like why would a robot walk a robotic dog? Why would a robot own a robotic dog? When you think of robots (the word literally meaning "worker" in Czech, I think), volition and free will are not part of the equation. I write a lot about this in stories, one way or another.

You want to walk your dog, you get up and do it. You're doing it because your dog has to take a piss and could use the exercise. Hell, you could use the exercise, too.

But a robot dog owner would have to have been programmed to be a dog owner -- it wouldn't be something it just simply decided to do. And what point would there be to being a robotic dog? At one point, there's a moment when a robot dog tries to pee (?) on a robot fire hydrant -- the robotic hydrant then fights back, repelling the dog. A simple gag, played for kid-laughs.

However, it amuses me along different lines -- if you invent a robot dog, why have the dog need to pee to begin with? That's a biological function, not something a machine needs to do. These robots are busy simulating biological life, across the board. On face value, it's done so children can relate to the pretty robot world. But philosophically, it gets the gears (!) turning in my head, this simulation of life that is inherent in robotics. Man using technology to, in effect, recreate himself mechanically. Robots can't create themselves (at least not initially); they must be created. Once they are created, then they can do something about it, but they must be invented, first, before they can recreate themselves.

Simply put: WHERE are the humans in this world? Robots come from human beings, so where are the people? Did the machines replace humanity (e.g., wipe us out) and then, because we'd programmed them to be like us, just mechanically performed what we would have done? Or are these robots humanity themselves? That is, are they, in effect, the fullest expression of cybernetics, where people migrate themselves from biological to technological, until all trace of the organic is gone? Humanity's presence and absence from the movie is fascinating to me, and is bold. Clearly somebody had to have made these machines, long ago. Unless this is a world that was always mechanical (it's never said what this world is). But illogical contrivances like metal buttons on a robot's "suit" point to an illogical origin to the machines -- e.g., organic. Makers who created these machines in their own image. But where did humanity go? The absence of flesh-and-blood in the movie fascinates me, relative to the machine, since so much fiction with robots depends on the interaction of Man and Machine -- and in this movie, there is no Man, only Machine. The Machines won, and became us. Fascinating!

There are two competing philosophies in the movie -- the Good Guys are about finding yourself and following your dreams; the Bad Guys are about feeling bad about yourself and casting off the old in favor of the new (and, again, the notion of robots with low self-esteem is particularly ripe for exploration). Eventually, the Good Guys best the Bad Guys (of course), although nobody really gets hurt too badly (except for the baddest of the Bad Guys).

Anyway, the movie is light-hearted, is a comedy, but I find a lot of the questions it brings up very curious, compared with a far more self-serious movie like, say, "Wall-E" (which itself has a lot of consumerist criticism in it, but allows for humans in it). Without perhaps intending it, "Robots" is a bolder enterprise, since there simply ARE no humans in it -- just humanlike robots, doing humanlike things.

Check it out if you have the time, and watch it with a philosophical eye, and you'll see what I mean about it, that sense of the uncanny in watching robots interact in a clearly post-human world, yet doing very, very human things.

Wrongful Logic

I am going to try to sell a collection of my short stories. A longshot, to be sure, but everything is, where writing is concerned, and I'd like to think that anything will increase my odds. Something really is better than nothing.

The collection will be entitled "Wrongful Logic." I picked 12 of my short stories for it, mostly horror, a little science fiction and literary. A good cross-section of my work:

• Bait
• Chosen
• Maenad
• A Monsters Sleeps Inside Me
• White Meat
• Entropy's Vestal Virgin
• Pigeon Man
• Airlock
• The Atomic Baby
• Mermaid's Smile
• The Shape
• Living With Syn

I think that's a decent sampling. I have enough short stories for a couple of anthologies, but this would be a nice "how do you do?" from me to a casual reader, before they dove into some of my long fiction. I should tally it up, see how many words that would be.

79,602 words. So, that'd be a decent-sized book.

The challenge will be getting the interest of anybody in the publishing world on that. But it'll be another iron in the proverbial fire, so that'll keep me warm in the coming winter months.

Querulous

I sent another query out. This one directly to a publisher. I'm sure nothing'll come of it, but I have to try, anyway.

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.

This and that

1424 words this morning for "Old Hickory." It's coming along very nicely. I think I'm about two-thirds of the way there with it. A short story. I think it'll be a sure bet to be published, just because of the nature of the tale. May need a bit of revision when I'm done with it, but that's all part of the dance, yes? Heh.

Oh, another story idea came to me yesterday. Here's the title, so it doesn't get lost (I always put my ideas down on paper slips, but sometimes I launder them or whatever. This way, they're at least likelier not to get lost)...

• It Takes One To Know One

I won't tell what that one's about, because that would spoil it. But it's fucking cool, rest assured. Another short story, that.

I'm pleased that my idea factory in my head seems to be humming along. I was preoccupied in 2008 with a lot of things, and was wrapping up one of my books, which ate up a lot of attention. I'm just pleased to "take a break" with a batch of short stories for 2009. I enjoy short stories as much as I enjoy novel-writing. It's a very different discipline, demands clean, lean prose; there's precious little fat to trim in them, not so much wiggle room. I like that.

Not that I don't enjoy a good wiggle, mind you, but in fiction, clean and lean is the way to go -- lush descriptions, but economy still rules the roost. Every word must matter. Not quite as much as with poetry, but nearly so.

I may take to writing longhand during lunch. I'll just drop down to the cafe and write down there, tune everybody out. Lately, Bossie has been coming by brandishing lists and what-not, taking advantage of me being at my desk (usually) during lunch, so I figure if I'm not there, am down in the cafe writing, I gain the benefit of an extra half-hour of writing time AND the benefit of not getting bothered by Bossie.

Bobbing, Weaving

I should be sleeping. But one of the boys was sick, so I was taking care of that. Poor little guy. He's sleeping, now, but I'm awake. Or half-awake, anyway.

Watched "Nip/Tuck" last night. Glad they brought Julia back -- her absence was keenly felt. The show isn't nearly where it was in the first three seasons, in terms of everything. The writing is thinner, and that bugs me. I can always tell when something's been written well, versus somebody just going through the motions -- thinly-plotted contrivances and what-not. I can just see it. But Julia was integral to the dynamic of the show, so hopefully her return will up it a little.

Same thing with "It's Always Sunny..." -- it has not found The Funny so much this season, unfortunately. All too often, when comedy writers come up short, they opt for The Zany when they should be finding The Funny. For a lot of people, Zany IS Funny -- but they're not the same. The Funny doesn't have to be Zany -- it wins you over on its own merits, whereas Zany -- well, it's the comedic equivalent of blood and gore in lieu of terror or horror. It's what a writer of comedy reaches for when they are coming up short, are out of ideas. "Arrested Development" did it by the end of the second season. Lord knows when "The Office" (US) did it. But all comedy shows do it when they lose sight of The Funny, lose that vital edge. Once lost, it's often hard to rediscover -- it's like trying to explain a joke to somebody, the punchline is invariably lost on the listener, or they'll politely say "That's funny."

No, it's not. If you have to say it's funny, it's not funny. The Funny finds you; if you have to find The Funny, you're screwed. It's the Zen of The Funny, The Tao of Laughter. And so far, I've been very disappointed with this season's "It's Always Sunny...." -- I really, really, hope they find The Funny again. Fingers crossed.

Speaking of crossed fingers, I spent much of last night jotting down contact information for publishing my book. I found about a dozen potential homes for it, so now I have to work on those pitches and see if anybody has an iota's interest in it. They should; it's a good book. But it's very hard to pitch a book as a complete outsider -- I needed a pedigree, like coming from an Ivy League school, or having gone to the Writer's Workshop, or be related to a publishing czar -- an in-road like that really helps. All I have on my side is talent and persistence -- I just need that opportunity, need to make that opportunity, and a fistful of luck. So, we'll see how it goes.

Bric-a-brackish

I sent "Spare Tire" to WEIRD TALES. We'll see how quickly they reject it. I also sent "Living With Syn" to the NEW YORKER. That's a total longshot, sure to be rejected, but I wanted to at least give it a try. It may be useful for me to note submissions in this blog, so I can keep track of them. I have a database at home, but with the computer migration thing (e.g., moving from a PC to a Mac), I haven't moved things over -- many things, including all of my writing, are on the old PC, including the database, etc. Soooo, we'll see. As long as I have my jump drive, I'm good. Have jump drive, will travel.

Had an idea this morning for a new story:

• Deuce

That's the title for it. Not going to say anything else about it at the moment.

If WEIRD TALES rejects "Spare Tire," I'm going to send them "The Atomic Baby" and see how they handle that, assuming it falls beneath their word requirements (<10,000 words for unqueried fiction). And if that falls, I'll send them "Living with Syn." And so on. They don't like multiple submissions, so I have to wait for responses before sending another. The usual dance.

I want to wrap up "Wash, Spin, Rinse, Shoot, Repeat" this weekend, if at all possible.

Make Your Own Luck, Inc.

I have got my feet under me again, and am going to spring at the publishing industry and sink my teeth into its leg, and hold on until the end of my days. Just been doing some research, and it got me all fired up. It's hard to wrestle with the ardent apathy of the industry and not have it sink into you a bit, but I'm back on my feet, and am swan-diving back into the fray. I always get extra-busy in the Fall and Winter, anyway.

One great thing about Chicago is the long winters -- people complain about them, but to me, long winters = Good Writing Weather. It's why there are far more great Russian writers versus great Hawaiian writers. Bad weather makes for great writing, because: a) you're indoors, and b) you need something to get your mind off the bad weather. Both situations are extraordinarily conducive to writing a lot, and the more you write, the better you become (ideally).

So, the descent into the short Fall and the long Winter that is Chicago ignites my spirit, gets me in full writerly mode -- I write year 'round, of course, but in terms of the business of writing, that kicks up for me during this time, since I need to find homes for things I've written in the Spring and Summer.

It's all very cyclical. ; )

Street Music

One thing I like in Chicago, during the blustery, wintery-windy times, particularly in Fall and Winter proper, is how the wind can make street signs sing. Basically, any of those hollow-bore metal poles that support things like "No Parking" signs and what-not -- when the winds are strong enough, they become like giant flutes, and will carry the sound, resonating up and down them, like how you can make a beer bottle sing, only this is galvanized metal being played, not glass.

Now, it requires a pretty strong wind to do it, but when you pass several of them, all sounding at once, it's neat -- this ghostly city song played, a duet between Man's works and Nature's whims. A chorus of banshees. Usually the poles dance a little, too, buffeted by the winds. It would be fun to find one of the reliably windy areas and put a tape recorder there to capture the sound, although without the poles for context, it's probably not quite the same.

Leaden Skies

Music: "A Passing Feeling," Elliott Smith

Love that song. Most of Elliott Smith's stuff I find I like. A shame he snuffed himself, since he had talent to spare, a great synthesis of songwriting and lyricism. I always hear the Beatles a lot in his sound, like their late era. Perfect music for the leaden wannabe winter skies over the city today.

I never complain about the weather -- to me, any weather is wonderful. There are joys and horrors in all things, and I don't whine about weather. I snapped a photograph of an old building in my neighborhood. It was perfectly framed by the overcast skies and the clawing branches of the leafless trees around it.

My headphones (which I wear nearly all day at work, when at my desk, playing music), catch the static electricity when I move my feet, and make little hissing sounds and popping noises if I deliberately move my feet about on the old workaday carpet here in Bizarroworld.

I'm going to bundle various short stories into a collection and try to pitch that to some agents. Figure might as well have a couple of things going out at the same time, by way of big projects. I've got more than enough stories for a sizable collection, and individually, the stories seem to not be catching the interest of what few venues there are for my fiction, so maybe compiled they'll have some appeal. Have to try, right?