Hello friends

--- not sure if I actually have any friends here; have never really caught onto this LJ thang -- if you're there, please say hello so I'll know I'm not just talking to myself --

I have a new novel in the works which goes by the name Creation Science. It's a thriller about designer DNA, hackers, Russian mobsters, government bio-warfare programs, creationists, disease cowboys, gypsy trucking, and love.

There's a little video about me and it here:

http://www.kickstarter.com/projects/john-sundman/creation-science

Hoping to have good portion of it written in time for Arisia; with any luck I'll do a reading there (to an audience of 3 or 4? Perhaps.)

I would certainly appreciate your taking a look. And any help kicking this can down the road would be especially welcome.

My little illustrated novella, The Pains is up for your reading/viewing pleasure.



It's a story of a young novice monk who develops something akin to the stigmata in an alternate universe that is equal parts Orwell's Oceania from 1984, the U.S. of A during Ronald Reagan's 1984, and a wacky universe I visited a long time ago after accidentally drinking some electric sangria and smoking some opiated hash.

As with all my books, its available in its entirety-- all the text, all the pictures-- for free. The version that's on wetmachine now is HTML; I'll be formatting it as PDF for the actual book, and will probably make that freely available too, eventually.

I'm taking pre-orders for the printed book, which I expect to have in-hand by mid-December.

I would appreciate your spreading the word, and I would really, really, really appreciate your purchasing a book or two. I could use the dough, believe me. Why not take care of some holiday shopping and help out a struggling genius at the same time?

ON the fabulous Sunset Strip!

I'm still noodling around with LiveJournal, trying to figure out how this place works. Is there a way to just post this entry to the bookish community, without it appearing elsewhere?

On the topic of January reading, I'm working my way through a pile of books I got from my agent Joe Regal when I was down in his office at the beginning of the month. (These were all from people he reprsents) First he said "you should read The Traveler" and gave me a copy of that. Then he found out that I had not yet read The Time Traveler's Wife. He gave me copy of James Reston's book about his daughter. Before you knew it, he had given me about 12 books, most of which I'm about halfway through.  Normally I'm only reading two or three books at a time, but gluttony got the better of me.  I'll report back after I"ve read a few of them all the way through.

For any of y'all itching for something to read, there's always my own novels Acts of the Apostles and Cheap Complex Devices, which are available for free download from my site http://www.wetmachine.com -- although I'll be happier if you buy printed copies. Google or Amazon can  provide plenty of reviews.

Next up: figuring out how to split my entries in to "intro" and "body" sections. . .  

Cheers!

I posted my first entry here a few days ago, while at the Arisia SF con, without really knowing my way around LJ, its conventions, traditions, etc. I haven't made any comments or even figured out how to make a small intro that links to a bigger body -- consequently my first entry was a tad on the long side. Oh well.   I was just trying to connect with Arisians while the con was still going on. Alas, it was not to be -- no comments or connections.  I don't even know if anybody is seeing this.  Perhaps now I can take some time to figure out how to drive this thing. . .

Fellow Arisians, here's a tale of how I nearly lost something very dear to me just to grace you with my presence & lavish gifts upon y'all at the Con.

I decided to give away a bunch of my nanoscopically famous books <a href="http://www.sfsite.com/01a/acts72.htm">Acts of the Apostles</a> & <a href="http://www.sfsite.com/12b/cc142.htm">Cheap Complex Devices</a> on Filthy Pierre's freebie table, as part of my clever plan ingratiate myself with the fen, so that you'll evangelize my work to mundanes of your acquaintance worldwide & thus propell me to literary superstardom.

Friday afternoon I went down to Tisbury Printer & cooked up some cheesy inserts to put in my books, and Friday night I went down to the ferry terminal and picked up a ticket for the six o'clock boat. I stayed up much too late putting away Christmas stuff & got up nice and groggy Saturday morning after about four hours sleep.

On the 45 minute boat ride, when usually I would be napping, I autographed about 70 books & stuck the cheesy inserts and my biz cards into them. Then I drove to Cambridge.  When I got to the Hyatt, the garage was full, and the valet parking people wanted $35 bucks for the day.  So I said, "fuck that" and went in search of a parking spot.

I drove down Mem Drive to the rotary by the BU Bridge, then headed into Cambridgeport, and pretty soon I had a nice, legal, free spot.  So, I got out my little shoulder bag and my giant box of containing about 70 books, which weighed about 60 pounds, and began walking towards the Hyatt, which I could see about 1/4 mile away.

Only, there were railroad tracks between me and the hotel, and fences on either side of the tracks. I found a gap on my side of the fence, so I could get on to the tracks, but I couldn't see a gap in the other side. I put the box of books down and went to reconnoiter. A few hundred yards away I found a spot where the chain link fence, about 6 feet high, met the back of a building, and at this juncture there was a dead microwave oven leaned up against the fence.  Great, I sez to myself, I'll use the discarded appliance as a boost and climb over.  So, I walk 200 yard back & collect my books -- this is still saving me more than a mile of walking, I figure -- and go back to the point of attack.

I climb up on the microwave, awkwardly, carrying a sixty-pound box -- which has no lid, by the way --, and with a shoulder bag wrapped around me-- and I say a little prayer to St. Jude and drop the box into a snow bank on the other side of the fence, hoping it won't explode and scatter my books everywhere.  The box does not explode; only two books pop out, everything's cool. Then I put one leg over the fence, put my weight on the metal cross-beam on the other side, bring over the second leg, and jump down.

Only, my shoulder bag gets caught in the top of the fence. Luckily I'm tall, so no harm. I think, "Wow, that was close. 'Old guy strangles self in his bag while tramping illegally across a railroad right-of-way like some old hobo en route to give away books at an SF con because after 5 years he hasn't sold them' would have been an ignominious way to die. My wife would have killed me!" I untangle myself from the bag, then the bag from the fence; I pick up the two spilled books, then the box; I walk the remaining couple hundred yards to the hotel, sweaty and a little out of breath, but feeling virtuous and generous, I proceed to Arisia, register, get programs, etc, and thence to free literature table where I put out books. Go me.

Then I go to my panels and a few others. Off the panels I talk to nobody, because I'm a notorious introvert at things like this. Late in the afternoon I'm tired but cannot find a place to sit and rest. After traipsing all over the place I finally find a chair at an empty table in the game room, against a wall. I sit back and immediately fall asleep.

Ten minutes later I wake up with people all around me setting up a game of World of Warcraft.  I watch intently as a practice/demonstration round is played. Everybody ignores me. I'm like the dead guy in "My Weekend At  Bernie's"; I say nothing and nobody says anything to me.

Eventually I get up, shake out the sleepies, go to another session or two, and decide that it's time to be on my way. After all, the masquerade will be starting soon, and I am definitely not the masquerading type.

The way back to my car is easier, since I'm not carrying sixty pounds of books. But but when I get back to the fence, now I'm in a pickle, because there is no dead appliance on this side upon which I can climb to get over the fence. But, aha! there is a snow bank up against the edge of the fence not far away. I climb up onto the fence put one leg over, then the other.  Now I'm sitting on top of a chain link fence.

Which is caught in my pants. Right by my nuts.

My friends, this is a moment of sheer terror.

Now, I'm old and not in great shape, but I used to be in good shape once upon a time, and in crisis situations like this one can sometime summon up supah-human strent.  Which I do now. I lift my weight with one hand, free my pants and threatened scrotum with the other, and launch myself to the other side. Safe at last.

God, if I had made the news by leaving my testicles on top of that fence, there's no telling what my wife would have done to me when I got home!

Eventually I made it here, to my friend Todd's place in the South End, and now I'll be heading back over to the Con.  I'll be on the "Mysteries" panel at noon and the "Evil" panel at 2 PM.

I'll have copies of my books with me; if you didn't get a free copy yesterday, perhaps you'd consider buying a copy today? I'm afraid my budget for free books is spent, and I'm back to selling them now. Ten bucks cheap, or one of each for $15!  Whether you do or don't buy a book, I hope that you'll appreciate my demonstrated devotion to the cause, and that you'll check out my website <a href="http://www.wetmachine.com">wetmachine</a>, where all my books are available for free download (and you can buy printed copies too!).