June flew by in a gale of activity. The month began with the excitement of attending the Colorado Book Awards ceremony in Denver where my debut novel, A Borrowed Hell, won the award for Science Fiction/Fantasy, and ended with packing and heading out to the Taos Toolbox workshop for two very full weeks of lectures, writing, critiques, plot-breaking, and fun group dinners.
Though it's named Taos Toolbox, the master's workshop for science fiction and fantasy writers is actually held about 25 miles away in Angel Fire, a ski and summer resort in the mountains of New Mexico, which sits at an elevation of 8400 ft. The instructors were the same as the past 11 years, Walter Jon Williams and Nancy Kress, and our guest lecturers were Carrie Vaughn, Em Tippitts, and - capping off our first week with a bang - the estimable George R. R. Martin. I left on June 17th and just got home a couple of days ago on the 30th.
It's also been another month of extreme drought and fire danger for the southwest - southern Colorado, New Mexico, Utah, and Arizona in particular. On my way to Taos Toolbox, I drove through the almost extinguished Ute Park burn area in NM, and during the workshop the Sardinas Canyon fire started about 15 miles SW of us, growing fairly slowly to about 1800 acres before we left. I was looking forward to leaving the smoke and fire behind, but three days before coming home a new fire started near the town where my husband works, and only about 40 miles from where we live. It exploded into the largest fire in Colorado and possibly the fastest growing fire in the nation, blowing up to nearly 35,000 acres in the first 3 days. As of today (5 days in) it's now reached over 50,000 acres. It's far enough from us that I can't imagine it growing to the point we'd be put on evacuation alert, but close enough that we know people who've had to leave their homes. Two more fires started since I got home, both in central Colorado. We're in the 'extreme' drought region of Colorado. I didn't even know a rating higher than extreme existed, but apparently we border an area of 'exceptional' drought. Last year at this time, I was looking out my window at a lush green landscape; today I'm looking at yellow grasslands, a dead lawn, and hazy skies from smoke. Whatever way you might believe in sending positive energy out to the universe, please keep the severe, extreme, and exceptional drought areas of the country in your thoughts.
Though it's named Taos Toolbox, the master's workshop for science fiction and fantasy writers is actually held about 25 miles away in Angel Fire, a ski and summer resort in the mountains of New Mexico, which sits at an elevation of 8400 ft. The instructors were the same as the past 11 years, Walter Jon Williams and Nancy Kress, and our guest lecturers were Carrie Vaughn, Em Tippitts, and - capping off our first week with a bang - the estimable George R. R. Martin. I left on June 17th and just got home a couple of days ago on the 30th.
It's also been another month of extreme drought and fire danger for the southwest - southern Colorado, New Mexico, Utah, and Arizona in particular. On my way to Taos Toolbox, I drove through the almost extinguished Ute Park burn area in NM, and during the workshop the Sardinas Canyon fire started about 15 miles SW of us, growing fairly slowly to about 1800 acres before we left. I was looking forward to leaving the smoke and fire behind, but three days before coming home a new fire started near the town where my husband works, and only about 40 miles from where we live. It exploded into the largest fire in Colorado and possibly the fastest growing fire in the nation, blowing up to nearly 35,000 acres in the first 3 days. As of today (5 days in) it's now reached over 50,000 acres. It's far enough from us that I can't imagine it growing to the point we'd be put on evacuation alert, but close enough that we know people who've had to leave their homes. Two more fires started since I got home, both in central Colorado. We're in the 'extreme' drought region of Colorado. I didn't even know a rating higher than extreme existed, but apparently we border an area of 'exceptional' drought. Last year at this time, I was looking out my window at a lush green landscape; today I'm looking at yellow grasslands, a dead lawn, and hazy skies from smoke. Whatever way you might believe in sending positive energy out to the universe, please keep the severe, extreme, and exceptional drought areas of the country in your thoughts.