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Breakfast in Bed
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Wednesday, June 28th, 2006

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The Book of Beginnings
Deborah Davis is working on a book about story beginnings, and is going to be reprinting the opening from my fantasy story "Family Ties" (perhaps one of my least-read professional publications) whose opening sentence has always been a personal favorite of mine; here is the first paragraph:

When I was nine, a fox ran between my father's legs with a curse tied in its tail, and though he shot and killed the beast, by day's end he was dead, his skin the same bright red as the fox's pelt. I swore revenge, and only years later learned that the oaths of a nine year old girl, forged from a pure rage and a still innocent love, are sometimes more binding than the most learned and complex sorceries. Revenge is a lonely life. By the time its fires have cooled enough that you look about you for a moment to consider other things, you are too hardened for the intimacies of friendship, for the trust of a lover, and these cold truths serve to quench the blade of your revenge, to further temper its edge. I threw myself into my studies, bent on discovering the man who had killed my father. I kept the fox's tail locked in a metal box under my bed, waiting until the day I could untie its workings and know its maker.
The Christian Science Monitor
Just bought my poem "Cloudy, with a Chance of Poems."

Not sure yet when it will run.
Packing again
This time I'm off to Pontevedra in Galicia, this evening, to see my friend Xose Luis (who has been to Madrid at least 6 times in the two years since he moved there and I haven't been once to visit) and otherwise escape from the madness that is Gay Pride in Madrid these days, where no one has any idea of why it is celebrated or cares about anything except loud noise, alcohol, drugs, sex, and fleecing tourists and locals, not necessarily in that order. Since my two balconies give onto a street that is pretty much smack dab in the center of the triangle formed by the three plazas which will have non-stop concerts until 3am each night, not to mention all the restaurants, bars, and clubs on the street have constructed outdoor bars to serve alcohol onto the street, resulting in even more drunks shouting below my windows, I'm glad to get away until it's all over.

On my return, since one of the employees at Berkana broke or sprained his foot yesterday, I will have an eight-day stint as a bookseller again, until he's back from his medical leave.

I don't know what sort of internet access I'll have from Galicia, so I'll just mention now that, totally unrelated to gay pride, the Ley de Identidad de Genero is up to be voted on by paliament on June 30th. This is a law that will allow transsexuals to legally change their gender on all of their documentation (passports, etc.).

Gender reassignment is covered (in part or in full) by some autonomous communities in Spain, but at present the government is not pursuing this issue on the national level, preferring to leave the decision to local governments. I believe the only autonomía which covers such surgeries in full is Andalucía.

One last note: ¡Feliz cumpleaños to Achy Obejas! ¡Muchos besos, querida!

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