Eileen Bell

I’m trying to figure out Twitter.  This is a land I haven’t spent much time in, and it is proving to be difficult.  New languages to learn, new people to meet, and if there is an organizational principle behind it all, I have yet to find it.

Plus — and this is a big plus — I can spend A TON of time there.  A ton. I watch with fascination as message after message pops up, as all the people I’m following let me know exactly what they are doing at that moment.

There have been some surprising finds for me, I must admit.  I’m now quite hooked on a blog called Go Into the Story — It’s written by Scott Meyers about screenwriting, and it’s addictive.  There are others,  but this is the one at the top of my brain right now (because I was on his blog mere moments ago, and am now reading the screenplay “Dune.”  Because he offered it.  Go figure.)

Facebook — same, same.  I’ve been on Facebook for a while now, and I still feel like I don’t get it. It’s a decent vehicle for getting the word out about upcoming events, and when I’m writing — as I’m supposed to be doing now — I use it to update m word count.  Keeps me on track, because there are other people out there seeing it, and I don’t want the embarrassing questions like “So what happened to you on Saturday?” (or whatever day I didn’t write, but hung around, washing clothes and vacuuming dust bunnies, and maybe even going out and sitting in the sun, that sort of thing)  But past that, I can’t understand why anyone gives a darn what I’m doing with my day. (And why, in reality, they’d even care about my word count.)

And then there’s this blog.  I sometimes forget to come here and put words down.  I should remember.  This is my connection to the outside world, after all.  My connection to an unbelievably big world.  Millions of people, all looking for — something.  Could be what I’m talking about.  You never know.

Perhaps this is what’s freezing me.  The thought that there are millions of people out there, and any one of them could happen on this blog — or one of my Facebook entries — or 140 characters I dashed off on Twitter.  That would be their introduction to me.  Is there anything there can could possibly be compelling enough to make them try to find me again?  Even remember my name?

After all, I’m not offering much.  Sometimes a bit of my pain, or a bit of my joy.  Sometimes something interesting I found on the web — or out in the real world. Sometimes just the word count on my latest novel. Hope it’s enough.

If it’s not — read Dune.  Hey, somebody gave it to me!  The least I can go is pass it on.

Normally, I don’t call Ryan.  The man lives in Ontario (!) and so is always living  2 hours in the future, which hardly ever works out well for me.  (I think about giving him a call at 10ish my time — and he is either at work or asleep, depending on the 10 I pick.) It’s inconvenient, because I actually have to think about what the heck I’m doing.  Plan for it.

I don’t do so well with planning, as anyone who has ever received my Christmas cards can attest.  (Mid February, anyone?)

So, when I went on Facebook (Yeah, I know, but whatever) prior to shutting things down for the night, the last thing on my mind was calling Ryan.

Then I saw Rob Sawyer’s post — and I was on the phone in a flash.  Of course, Ryan didn’t answer.  He is, after all, a father — and it was probably close to bedtime for his little girls.  So I left an incoherent message that asked — begged, really — him to check out Facebook.

Then I called Billie.  Luckily she was home.  I told her to check it out — and she did.  Then she lost her mind, and I knew I hadn’t imagined it.

The Hugo Award winning Rob Sawyer, science fiction heavyweight, who gets to go to all sorts of cool places and do all sorts of cool things ,  talked about Women of the Apocalypse.  He didn’t just talk about it.  He gave it an excellent review!

“Nothing gives me more joy than when my students do well, and so it’s with great pride and pleasure that I draw your attention to the fabulous new anthology Women of the Apocalypse, an anthology of stories (“Four women, Four Shooters, Four destinies to save the world”) by Eileen Bell, Roxanne Felix, Ryan T. McFadden, and Billie Millholland. The book — a handsome trade paperback with an eye-catching stark black-and-white cover — is published by Absolute XPress, a division of Calgary’s Hades Publications….This is, without doubt, one of the major theme anthologies of 2009, and deserves a place on the Aurora Award ballot — as do the individual stories. The anthology recently made the bestsellers’ list published in the Calgary Herald.”

Ryan eventually called me back, and we did the teenage girl jumping up and down and screaming thing for a while.  (Sorry Ryan, but people deserve the truth.)  And why did we do this?

Because back in 2006, Ryan and I were in Rob Sawyer’s writing class in Banff.  He ripped us both – bad.  He ruthlessly pointed out EVERYTHING we did that was keeping us from being published.  Everything.

We could have run away crying (like those self same teenage girls we emulated a couple of days ago). But we didn’t. Both of us took what he said to heart, and went away, licked our wounds, and stepped up.

Apparently we learned some of those lessons quite well.

Thanks Rob.  You’re the best.