I went to Eugene today, by Greyhound bus on the way there and by Amtrak Train on the way back. Eugene is less than an hour from where I live, but it was still significant because this was the first time I had really gone to another city since last August, when I also went to Eugene. Six months in Corvallis and environs was a little stifling. The pandemic has receded enough that I feel responsible traveling again.

What I did when I was there was walk from the center of Eugene to the northern edge of the city. I have walked everywhere between the city of Vancouver, Washington and my current location of Corvallis. (Actually a bit further, past the William L. Finley National Wildlife Refuge. My plan is to complete the connection, and walk everywhere between the two cities. I still have 25 miles to go. But pretty good progress, considering it is only February and the warm weather and long days haven't started yet. Part of the reason why I do this is that I want to see what cities are really like: Eugene, of course, is a stereotypical twee hippie kingdom, and if you stay within two or three miles of downtown, that reputation is deserved. But Eugene has its freeways and highways and sprawl and six lane roads, as well. And so one of my goals is to see my extended community---the entire Willamette Valley---as it really is.

Oh, and also, I got over 330 photos to upload to inaturalist.org. That should keep me busy this weekend.

On reading anthologies, book releases, and being upstaged.

The world news is harrowing. Even the national raises significant concern, though it appears to be less dramatic than the Twitter-on-the-Spot commentators want to make out. Twitter: where thoughts go to die.

I have neither expertise nor influence there, so I'll ponder more personal questions.

How does one read a collection? Or is it an anthology? Subject for debate. I have one coming out in March. My friend Eric Choi has one due out in April, Just Like Being There. He notes that, under different circumstances, we might have held a joint launch. His partner asks what term is more suitable, collection or anthology. I'm unsure of my answer to her. I've always thought of a single-author compilation as a "collection," for some reason, and a multi-author one as an "anthology," but nothing supports that interpretation, and "anthology" is more technically correct for a literary work.

I received advance copies this week of Live Nude Aliens and Other Stories. That cover looks great! One innocuous printer's error will be corrected in the run. The single footnote to one of my introductory blurbs is misnumbered as "2." I rather like that-- nicely enigmatic. If you receive such a copy, know that you possess a Rare Collector's Edition.

The same day I learned that my niece is pregnant with her first child, and a long-ago ex with whom I am in contact is engaged, officially. We were anticipating the news from my niece, but it was good to hear it! The unforgotten ex in question, meanwhile, has had some problematic relationships over the decades, so I'm hoping this one works out for her.

Even advance copies can be upstaged, and that's before we get into the tumult of recent news.

I have an interview related to the book on Wednesday, the local paper of my childhood home town. The combined print and digital circulation is 7-8000, but never turn down publicity. I'm excited to talk with them, and someone will purchase a copy.

Russia has amassed nearly 200,000 troops, reportedly, around the Ukraine.

Right. So how does one read an anthology? How about-- assuming you want to read it-- this anthology?

If you're a typical and/or SF reader, I suppose read them in the order the publisher arranged them, or in any other way you want.

If you want to start with arguably the strongest (and longest) piece, start at the end, with "Flying Whistle Stop." It takes up the last quarter of the collection and will be the subject of my guest-post on March 11, 2022 in John Scalzi's blog.

If you're a fan of conventional fiction, start with "The Book of Den(n)is" and read through. It qualifies as slipstream, but it's basically literary fiction, especially in 2022.

If you are triggered by anything and/or just want to avoid being disturbed, you should skip "No Human Involved."

If you really liked The Con, some of the characters reappear in the title story.

There's a virtual release party on March 12, 2022.

Presuming, of course, the world still exists then.

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