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Looking forward to Arisia 2016

mwinikates

For the last several years I’ve tried to make it to either Arisia or Boskone, to get a full weekend’s worth of geekery, inspiration, and writing research. Last year’s trip to Boskone got a little dicey thanks to the blizzard (1 of…14 or so, thanks, global warming). I’m keeping my fingers crossed for more beneficent weather this time around.

rocketeer
Maybe I can borrow this to get to the con? (Jet pack from The Rocketeer, as seen in One Man’s Dream at Walt Disney World. Photo by me, Nov. 2015)

As always, there seem to be more options than time, but here’s where you’ll likely find me if you too happen to be at the con this weekend:

Friday

7 pm: “How Lord of the Rings Stunted Fantasy’s Growth” (Interesting premise, fairly sure I disagree, but I want to hear why they think so)

8 pm: “Mrs. Hawking: A Steampunk Play” (Sounds like fun, and I’m always up for a good performance. If I miss it on Friday I think it repeats later in the weekend)

Saturday

10 am: Oh, who knows. It will either be “The Founding Mothers of SF/F,” “Constructing Languages,” or watching the artist guest of honor make wood-turned rocketships on a lathe, which sounds awesome.

11: 30 am: “Nonstandard Paths to Magic” (If you didn’t know I was a fantasy writer, would you assume that this was ‘how to sneak into Hogwarts?’ Because I might)

1 pm: Short Story Contest

4 pm: John Scalzi Reading (there were a few other good looking sessions in this block, but I can’t *not* go to the Scalzi reading.)

Evening: Who knows (part 2)? Depends on how much energy I have left and how far I have to go to find food.

Sunday

10 am: Broad Universe rapid-fire reading (though “Headcanon and SF/F” looks good too, so I may end up there if the BU panel is full)

11:30 am: “Complexities of Voice” most likely, though I have the art director’s tour of the art show and NASA documentary films as back-up options.

1 pm: “Vivat Regina: Mrs. Hawking Part II”

2:30 pm: “Science Year in Review” (with “Themes of Afrofuturism in SF” as backup)

4 pm: “Everything I say is a lie” ie. the unreliable narrator panel, not a declaration of intent or challenge.

5:30 pm: “Worldbuilding with the Soft Sciences” unless I get in a mood, in which case I may end up in “Lesser Known Tropes v. Women in SF/F”

Evening: Ditto from Saturday. Might go swing dancing at 7:30?

Monday

10 am: “Inside Out: Pixar Gets Smart”

11:30 am: “Speculative Poetry is Awesome” or “Humor in Writing” No idea how I’m going to pick on that one.

2:30 pm: “The Story within the Story” or “Don’t Quit Your Day Job” (good advice, I like my day job!)

Chances are good if I’m *not* any of these places, I’ll be down in the vendors’ hall hanging out with my ever-talented friends from Emporium 32.

What are you up to this weekend?

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A very bookish New Year

mwinikates

As January gets into swing and we’re all readjusted to the demands of the school and work week, I thought it would be nice to take a moment to reflect on some of what was awesome about the holidays, and the good feelings, things, and ideas that I’m carrying into the new year. (I invite you to do the same in the comments below!)

I had a very literary Christmas, which was awesome. Being the daughter of a librarian, I can always count on getting books for gift-giving occasions, and this year was no exception.

bookmas

As you can see, this was a glorious occasion for bookish and literary-adjacent gifts (and writing tools not pictured like a planbook and beautiful hand-bound blank book to tote about with me in my rambles). I have to admit, I already finished Felicia Day’s memoir, and it was excellent; funny, brave, insightful, and inspiring. I’m pacing myself on picking up the others so I don’t run through them too fast.

In the spirit of starting the new year right, I decided this year I’d actually attempt Goodreads’ book challenge, where you can set your own goal for how many books you want to read in 2016. Inspired by Stellar Four’s 52 books/year challenge, I went for 52; we’ll see how it goes. Feel free to friend me on Goodreads to keep me honest. (I’ll also be setting some creative goals for 2016, but I’m giving myself the rest of this month to get organized on them first!)

It must be noted that in addition to the genre-filled Bookmas, I had a very Merry Geekmas as well. I would post pictures of my Star Wars, Agent Carter and other geeky spoils, but I don’t want to make you all too jealous. Suffice it to say that I can now wear, carry, and otherwise use my fannishness in many happy-making ways.

galaxy pillow

Speaking of geekery, I’ll be heading to Arisia down at the Boston waterfront this weekend, so I’ll post a list of what I’m hoping to attend a little later in the week. If you have suggestions, as always, please fill me in.

What creative treasures, projects, or inspirations are you excited about in 2016? Tell me all about them!

 

 

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At home in a galaxy, far far away

mwinikates

The Force Awakens is everywhere! I promise this isn’t about to become a Star Wars blog (I know, Brain Popcorn has already felt the Force.) However, I have been a Star Wars fan for all my conscious life, so the past few weeks have been really awesome for me. I’ve watched the movie twice now, and have been enjoying the reactions, speculations, and energy exploding all over the internet, my friends’ and family’s conversations, and also my pile of Christmas presents. (It was a Merry Geekmas, indeed!)

james jeffers tfa illustration
Illustration by James Jeffers, http://jamesjeffers.tumblr.com

Why is Star Wars a story that so many people dedicate so much passion and attention to? Some of its appeal has to lie in the way the characters and the story fit certain archetypes, while telling universal stories of love and loyalty, curiosity and courage, hope and betrayal and redemption. In fact, in the first round of media coverage, a young Mark Hamill described Star Wars as “The Stuff Fairytales are Made Of.”

karen hallion padme leia
Illustration by the epic Karen Hallion, http://karenhallion.tumblr.com

As an avid fairy tale fan myself, I have to agree.  And in honor of the way Star Wars hearkens to some very old methods of storytelling, here is a poem I wrote for a high school English assignment (a long time ago in a galaxy approximately 35 minutes away by MBTA).  We were told to write an epic story using the literary style of Beowulf, including alliteration, assonance, and kennings. (We were also told that rhyme was unnecessary, but I was bad at avoiding rhyme in high school, so take it up with 15-year-old me.)

Any epic story would do, and therefore…

The Destruction of the Death Star

Now the dreaded Death Star drew near,
and the rebels, brave and bold,
fearlessly flew to fight their foe.
Luke Skywalker, our hero young,
was one of those who made the run
through narrow trench, with twists and turns,
escaping death from laser burns.

Though many tried, their fighters frail
could save them not from deadly hail.
In screaming-balls and flying-crosses
they burst in burning balls of gases.
Darth Vader, evil robot-breather
singled out Skywalker’s ship,
but Force-protected on Luke flew
pursued by Vader’s implacable ire.

Handsome Han Solo, sarcastic smuggler
spun vanquished Vader to space’s void,
leaving Luke alone to finally fire
the deadly blast to the dark-moon’s heart.
With the Death Star destroyed, the duo landed
greeted by lovely Princess Leia
giving them both due glory and fame,
the heroes of the new rebel era.

orig trio

What literary style would you use to tell the story of the new Star Wars cast of characters? Have you got a good kenning for BB-8? Share your best scavenger-meets-stormtrooper couplet below!

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What cheer?

mwinikates

It’s hard to blog about the things I love and the ideas that make me happy when there’s so much strange and horrible news in the wider world right now. How do you talk about time travel and dragons and Christmas, when it feels like you ought to be making statements about violence and gun control and civil rights regardless of gender or religion and the absolute awful that is the megaphone of idiocy wearing a bad hairdo whose name doesn’t need any more repetition?

Condemning what is crazy, complicit, and criminal from the safety of my desk chair does no one any good. So instead, I ask, as a holiday present to me, would you all do one or more of these things:

  • Make sure that you and the ones you love are registered to vote (assuming they’re eligible. Otherwise, make plans to take the little ones along when you vote, because civic engagement is exciting!)
  • Give someone a year’s newspaper subscription.
  • Donate to NPR, PBS, or one of their local affiliates.
  • Dig out your library card and go use it. Replace or apply for a new one if you’ve moved or lost yours.
  • Take someone you care about to a museum.

In the meantime, give yourself permission to turn off the news from time to time, and listen to the caroling dragons practicing their scales.

christmasdragon
“Reach for the Stars!” holiday dragon by Heidi Buck (http://www.hbdragon.com/main/dragons/6)

 

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Newly published:”The Storyvore”

mwinikates

Tell me a story...

Have you ever described yourself as the sort of person who devours books? I have. I’ve also called myself a ‘cultural omnivore,’ since there are very few things in this world that I don’t find at least a little (or a lot) interesting.

But what if stories were someone’s actual sustenance? And what happens to the person who tells them?

I wondered, and then I wrote. And now you can read the resulting short fiction (for free!) over at the literary journal, Zetetic!

Read “The Storyvore” on Zetetic: A Record of Unusual Inquiry

cropped-ZeteticLogo

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In praise of the sound of crunching leaves

mwinikates
Graveyard, Arlington MA, October 2015. Photo by Meg Winikates
Graveyard, Arlington MA, October 2015. Photo by Meg Winikates

It’s autumn, and despite being an agreeably insane sort of busy right now, I had a chance to go out at lunch today and take in the seasonal delights. Peak foliage around town was actually probably the end of last week, but there’s still a lot of gorgeous to be had, and that brilliant invigorating bite in the breeze today is the sort that makes me glad to be alive.

And so in celebration of my favorite season, have a poem by fellow New Englander Emily Dickinson!

Besides the Autumn poets sing (131)
Emily Dickinson, 1830 – 1886

Besides the Autumn poets sing,
A few prosaic days
A little this side of the snow
And that side of the Haze –

A few incisive mornings –
A few Ascetic eves –
Gone – Mr Bryant’s “Golden Rod” –
And Mr Thomson’s “sheaves.”

Still, is the bustle in the brook –
Sealed are the spicy valves –
Mesmeric fingers softly touch
The eyes of many Elves –

Perhaps a squirrel may remain –
My sentiments to share –
Grant me, Oh Lord, a sunny mind –
Thy windy will to bear!

If you’re hungry for more autumnal poetry, you might want to check out this Wednesday’s Improbable Places Poetry Tour.  Imagined, organized, and hosted by poet and Montserrat professor Colleen Michaels, this month’s stop on the tour is at Green Meadows Farm in South Hamilton, MA, and a gathering of poets will be reading a selection of their works on the theme of “Harvest/Moon”– including me!

I’ll be there to listen, bask by the bonfire under the moon, and read one of my own night sky pieces.  Hope to see you there!

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Video: My reading at MassPoetry’s U35

mwinikates

I had a fabulous time a few weeks ago reading at the Marliave Restaurant in Boston, as part of MassPoetry’s U35 reading series. You can check out the videos of the other readers from that evening (Chen Chen and Sarah Tourjee) on the U35 site, as well as the bios for November’s upcoming readers.

Also, don’t forget that MassPoetry is accepting festival session proposals until the end of this month! If you have a panel, reading, or workshop idea, make sure to submit here before October 30.

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In Search of Mother-Daughter Adventure Stories

mwinikates
Don't these two look ready for a quest? (Santeri Salokivi Mother and child, 1922. Image from Wikimedia Commons.)
Don’t these two look ready for a quest? (Santeri Salokivi, Mother and child, 1922. Image from Wikimedia Commons.)

There are an awful lot of missing parents in middle grade, young adult, and classic adventure fiction. One or both (but more often the mother) are dead or missing or just mentally/emotionally absent, and substitute parental figures are often awful (I’m looking at you, fairytale stepmothers, wicked uncles, and well-intentioned but forgetful housemaids). I understand that one of the ways to have an adventure is to have no barriers of responsibility and care that will buffer you, but I’m convinced there are ways to have adventures with one’s parents, at least some of the time. It’s sad and strange and upsetting to pick up a book and within the first three pages, there’s another dead mother.

So I’m looking for suggestions of excellent adventures with living, non-awful parents.  And in the meantime, have a snippet of one of mine I’m dabbling with:

The Dangers of Messing Around in Boats

Jessie leaned over the railing, nearly V-shaped, and her mother twitched, hand hovering unseen over the spot where Jessie’s jeans gaped at her back.

“Look at them go!” Jessie flung her arms out in classic Superman pose. “Whoo!”

Giving in to years of mothering instinct, Sylvia hooked a cautions finger through her daughter’s belt loop and her shoulders settled a bit when the teen didn’t react.

Jessie craned her head around. “You can’t even see the dolphins from there, Mom, you’ve got to get closer!”

Sylvia’s hand tightened on her daughter’s pants, finally earning her a glare, but she didn’t let go. “I can see just fine, baby.”

Jessie scoffed and tilted up onto her tiptoes so even more of her center of gravity hung off the racing boat, her hair coming loose from her ponytail and whipping wildly in the wind.

“Jessie!” her mother warned. Jessie tilted her head once more and grinned, fully upside down and giddy.

“I know you’ll catch me.”

Sylvia spread her feet and gripped the railing with her spare hand.

“It’s more that I’m likely to follow you,” she muttered.

“What?” Jessie straightened, heels coming back down and weight shifting.

“Nothing, you’re good.” Sylvia’s smile flickered, but Jessie’s feet were fully on deck now, and she used the rest of her momentum to push them both back against the cabin’s wall.

“Mom? You said this would be okay.” Jessie’s eyes flicked across Sylvia’s face and Sylvia swallowed hard against the increasing sensation of gills spreading out from her throat. No turning back now.

“Fine, baby, you know I want to see where you’re working this summer.” Sylvia’s voice took on a rasp as she extricated herself from Jessie’s grip, headed for the railing.

“A historic lighthouse is not worth re-activating a curse, Mom,” Jessie hissed.

Sylvia smiled, her eyes locked on her daughter’s. “Some things are meant to come full circle. Someday you’ll understand.”

And she let go.

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Find out what the bees know

mwinikates
Zip right on over and check it out! "Bee Line logo" by SPUI at Wikimedia Commons
Zip right on over and check it out! “Bee Line logo” by SPUI at Wikimedia Commons

What’s the buzz, you ask? The summer issue of Window Cat Press is out, and in it are four of my poems, accompanied by photography by the ever-delightful Michele Morris. Check them out, and all the other goodies within here!

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Pondering Puddles

mwinikates

There was, as those of us in eastern Massachusetts know, quite a band of rain and hail that crossed through yesterday afternoon, which might be why the leader of our writers’ group last night had puddles on the brain. For one writing prompt, we were challenged to use the words ‘middle, addle, and puddle’ in a scene. My brain went from Beatrix Potter’s oft-confused Jemima Puddleduck to ee cummings’ “puddle-wonderful,” and this is what happened next.

Portrait of Mrs. Andrew Reid; c. l780–1788 Kimbell Art Museum, Fort Worth, Texas; Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons, (Looks like a puddle-splashing fan, doesn't she?)
Portrait of Mrs. Andrew Reid; c. l780–1788
Kimbell Art Museum, Fort Worth, Texas; Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons, (Looks like a puddle-splashing fan, doesn’t she?)

Promenade
by Meg Winikates

Misty morning meander to
the green in middle distance,
addle-pated chatter of a
governess’ persistence.
Mischief of a moment,
a jollity, a happenstance:
Puddles soak through petticoats!
The scold, the cold are
worth the dance,
to turn, to trip, from twenty
back to twelve,
to find beneath the formal figure
one’s former sense of elf.