May was one of my lightest months ever in terms of remembered dreams, a product of attending both the World Horror Convention in Portland and the Nebula Awards weekend in San Jose—and taking redeye flights back home both times. The resulting exhaustion meant there was about a week and a half during which I remembered nothing.

I still managed to encounter Hodor, the Queen of England, Bill Paxton and Eddie Murphy, though, as the following tweets reveal …

May 2014 Dreams

I dreamt I was at a corporate meeting debating whether our Tumblr should be all images of bananas or peaches. Which sounds kinda sexual now. May 31

I dreamt my wife and I, struggling to find a restaurant we’d both enjoy, ended up at a joint which only served hoagies stuffed with fries. May 31

I dreamt I worked in a newsroom, and when there was a hubbub, I said, “That had to be because Princess Di had her baby.” And I was right! May 31

Another dream lost because this middle-of-of-night note sparks no memories — RECORDED SONG CD WOULD NOT [followed by three illegible words] May 29

I lost two of last night’s dreams because I can no longer understand the meaning of scribbled night notes. Like — 50+ YR EMP RETIRE PARTY May 29

I dreamt my son and I were at a newsstand filled with many back issues of MAD that never existed IRL — but I woke before I could read them. May 29

I dreamt I was on my way to a con panel the program book called, “Writing Characters That Aren’t Prospero.” But isn’t that 99.999% of them? May 28

I dreamt I was presented with a trophy — though I no longer remember by whom — that was a working blender with a bronze plaque attached. May 28

I dreamt I wandered a humongous Las Vegas hotel trying to find my room in its maze of halls. But I never did, and woke while walking. May 28

I dreamt I sat at a round table with the Queen of England as she very carefully, very patiently, taught me the proper way to fold napkins. May 28 (more…)

Two weeks ago, right around this time, I was in the midst of dining at the Los Gatos restaurant Manresa. I’d meant to tell you all about the meal long before now, but first I had to survive and recover from the Nebula Awards weekend, then complete my second new short story of the year, then host Geoff Landis and Mary Turzillo as they stopped here for a night on the way to Balticon, then start in on another new story. But before any more time passes, let’s get to it!

I’d made my reservation at Manresa having no idea who might join me, but sure that I’d find three other foodies at the Nebula weekend who’d want to take part. I’ve done that before with restaurants I trusted would deliver peak dining experiences, and haven’t been left with an empty seat yet. Based on what I’d been told, if I could eat only one meal in San Jose, it should be at David Kinch’s restaurant, so I knew that there’d be eager co-conspirators.

Joining me two weeks ago were Jenn Reese, her agent Barry Goldbatt (who snapped the picture above), and Jaym Gates. This was taken after we returned from our meal. Can you tell that we’re happy and satiated? Well, after spending five hours and 12 minutes at Manresa … we’d better be! (more…)

I can’t read, write, or speak in Spanish, but if you’d like to read one of my zombie short stories in that language anyway, you’re in luck. A new Spanish-language printing of the anthology The Book of All Flesh, titled El libro de los zombies, will be out shortly from Edge.

James Lowder edited the original book, which had its first English-language edition in 2001. My Thorton Wilder-inspired short story “Live People Don’t Understand” appears there as … “Los vivos no lo comprenden.”

Please let me know whether, thanks to translators José Luis Viruete and Gustavo A. Díaz, I read better in Spanish than I do in English.

I sure hope so. I need all the help I can get!

Life Itself, a documentary about film critic Roger Ebert, will be released July 4th. I have no idea how much time will be spent on his period as a member of science fiction fandom—something you can learn more about in an interview I did with him for Sci-Fi Entertainment in 1997—but his SF life did make a brief cameo in the documentary’s trailer.

Visible on screen at the 29-second mark as one of the interviewees says, “he wrote a novel,” is something that isn’t a novel—the opening spread of Ebert’s short story “After the Last Mass” from the February 1972 issue of Fantastic. As far as I know, Ebert only published two SF short stories, the other being “In Dying Venice,” which appeared in the May 1972 of Amazing Science Fiction, so I was glad to see one of them making an appearance. (more…)

I’ve been too busy this week to share how my Nebula Awards weekend went—I’d barely recovered from the redeye home when Geoff Landis and Mary Turzillo dropped by to spend the night on their way to Balticon—so these seven pics will have to stand in for a full report.

At the San Jose Airport Thursday with Cynthia Felice, who sat immediately in front of me on the flight from Denver. And as it turned out, Robin Wayne Baily sat in front of her! (more…)

I told you it was coming—and now it’s here. My contributor’s copy of The Monkey’s Other Paw: Revived Classic Stories of Dread and the Dead, which contains my homage to Saki’s “The Open Window,” is in my own paws, which means it can soon be in yours, too.

If you’d like to hear me read the story before buying the book, you can check it out here.

The Monkey’s Other Paw, from NonStop Press, is available both as a trade paperback and a hardcover. My story appears alongside tales from Damien Broderick, Paul Di Filippo, Barry N. Malzberg, Steve Rasnic Tem, and Don Webb.

What’s the next story of mine that’ll be published? No idea. That was last of my sold but unpublished pieces.

I recently sent two new stories to market, though—a 13,000-word horror story and a 5,250-word comic fantasy—and I’m hopeful they’ll find amenable editors sooner rather than later. Fingers crossed!

I’ve had many culinary firsts, and can easily remember them all. There was my first octopus. My first foie gras. My first meal in a Michelin-starred restaurant. My first sous vide. My first suckling pig. My first guinea pig. My first visit to a restaurant on the World’s 50 Best list. My first durian.

But a first I’ve never experienced before is visiting a restaurant run by a chef I’d originally met when he was a toddler. That took place Sunday night in Portland at Chef Gabriel Rucker’s Le Pigeon. I was supposed to dine there with Gene O’Neill, with whom I’d attended Clarion in 1979. Gene’s kids used to babysit Rucker when the families were neighbors, and I apparently met the future chef during one of my visits to Napa. Who knew that chubby cheeked kid would turn out to be a world-class chef?

I was supposed to head over to Le Pigeon with Gene the Friday night of last weekend’s World Horror Convention, but my old Clarion pal cancelled out on the con. I wasn’t going to let that stop me from hitting Le Pigeon, though, especially not after getting a look at its amazing menu. Which meant that Friday night was given over to Pok Pok, and I made Sunday reservations for Le Pigeon.

I ended up going with Ellen Datlow (who’s joined me for other fine dining outings), Portlander Leslie What (who shared a ton of local foodie tips), and Greg Chapman (an Australian with whom I co-presented this year’s Stoker for Superior Achievement in a Graphic novel).

Le Pigeon is set up for communal dining, and I was glad we arrived before the four others who were to join us, because our rectangular table narrowed as it jutted out from the wall, and if we’d been on the outside, that would have meant less room for food. And since the many dishes we ordered were large and beautifully plated, we needed all the room we could get. (more…)

There was no Instagram back in 2004—but I wasn’t going to let that stop me from Instagramming the 2004 Nebula Awards weekend!

Early tomorrow morning, I leave for San Jose to attend the 2014 Nebula Awards weekend. So what better time than now to take a few peeks at the same event held a decade ago in Seattle.

Slightly younger Robert Silverberg meets much younger Robert Silverberg

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Adam Richman is my favorite of all the TV food hosts. When I watched his shows Man v. Food and then Man v. Food Nation, he always seemed genuine to me, coming across as a real person rather than someone who was trying to turn himself into a brand.

And because (contrary to what some might think) I’m about more than just the sort of high-end fine dining that can be found at restaurants such as Boragó, Steirereck, and Alinea, I’ve followed in Richman’s footsteps whenever I can, which has led me to everything from the Triple Threat Pork sandwich at Slow’s BBQ in Detroit to the famous three-pound cinnamon roll at San Antonio’s Lulu’s Bakery & Cafe.

So when it came time for me to attend the World Horror Convention in Portland last weekend, I made sure to check out where Richman had gone before me. And on Saturday, that led to lunch at Big-Ass Sandwiches, which had been featured on the show Adam Richman’s Best Sandwich in America.

I walked a mile or so to the food truck with Claude Lalumière, making Big-Ass Sandwiches an extension of the World Horror Convention for that afternoon. And I of course ordered the sandwich that bore Adam Richman’s name—The Richwich, which consisted of slow-roasted beef, bacon and grilled onions onto a ciabatta roll with hand-cut fries, covered with homemade Bechamel cheese sauce. As you can see above, it was a helluva sandwich, and I can easily understand why it was voted “Best Sandwich in the Northwest” by The Travel Channel. (more…)

I arrived back home yesterday from a trip to Portland for this year’s World Horror Convention, which turned out to be another one of those cons at which the only programming I attended was my own plus the awards banquet. So my con experience was primarily in the hallways, at the bar, and on the streets of Portland, where I continued my quest to never, ever have to eat in a hotel restaurant. And while out and about, I always try to drag along as many friends as I can, to in effect have a con away from the con.

Friday night’s traveling con took place at Pok Pok, known for Thai food that hasn’t been diluted for American tastes, but is instead representative of what can be found in Thailand—as well as for its fish sauce wings. If you read Yelp and other foodie review sites, you’ll see the wait can often be 90 minutes to two hours, but once I noticed that parties of five or more are allowed to get reservations, I made sure to wrangle at least that many people. The group included Keffy Kehrli and some of his writer friends whom I’d never met before, so I had a chance to experience new food and new people. Perfect!

With that large a party, I was hoping we’d have an opportunity to try those famous Ike’s Vietnamese Fish Sauce Wings in both the regular and spicy varieties, and we did. You can probably tell the difference between the regular …

… and the spicy by color alone.

The spicy was not, as I’d expected, “OMG, my head is on fire spicy,” but enough of a wake-up call for the meal to follow. I loved them both, though, because even the default wings have a satisfyingly complex flavor. They definitely live up to their buzz. (more…)