Sue Burke’s most recent science fiction novel is Usurpation, the conclusion of the trilogy that began with Semiosis and Interference. She began writing professionally as a teenager, working for newspapers and magazines as a reporter and editor, and began writing fiction in 1995. She has published more than 40 short stories, along with essays, poetry, and translations from Spanish into English of short stories, novels, poetry, and historical works. Find out more at https://sueburke.site/
Lucky Bamboo is usually sold as stalks that grow in water, and they’re often braided, curled, or bundled into attractive shapes. The plant is Dracaena sanderiana, and like many Dracaena varieties, it makes an excellent and attractive houseplant.
They’re notoriously easy to care for — unless you’re me. My problem is the same one I have with a lot of plants: they grow way too much.
I received two planters of Lucky Bamboo as gifts in February 2018 when my book Semiosis was published because its hero is a bamboo. Thank you, Lori and the Burke Family.
There are several solutions to overgrown Lucky Bamboo. In some cases, you can trim the plants — I couldn’t, given their tight arrangements. Instead, I opted for putting them into bigger containers. Then I moved to an apartment with abundant light (the building management calls it a greenhouse). When growing in water, Lucky Bamboo should stay out of direct light, but I had few shady places, so I decided to plant them in soil, hoping that in the new growing medium, they would feel comfortable in the afternoon sun.
They are more than comfortable. Lucky Bamboo grows slowly in water. In dirt, they’ve sped into overdrive. Here’s what happened to one of the plants. The photo at the top of this article is used on florist websites. For a while, that’s exactly what I had.
Here’s what I have now (at left). Next to it is the original container, which now holds pine cones. The Dracaena stalks are flourishing and happy, and so am I.
The second arrangement is also flourishing — out of control. I may have made a glorious mistake.
This video (above or here) by Dimitar Karanikolov shows two minutes of a tropical rain forest viewed from above. The photographer calls it Forest Therapy. It’s intensely peaceful and relaxing.
It’s also a chance to see trees at war with each other. Trees — and all plants — compete mercilessly for light, even in some gardens where there are more plants than available sky. (Or if there’s enough sunlight, they fight over something else, like water.) In 1820, botanist and taxonomy pioneer Augustine Pyrame de Candolle said, “All plants of a given place are in a state of war with respect to each other.”
If you visit a tropical rain forest, the darkness at ground level may surprise you. Now look up. You can see a green ceiling, the forest canopy. That’s why it’s so dark. The leaves up there absorb all the sunlight.
Look down. On the forest floor, you can see a few ferns, struggling saplings, gaunt seedlings, some moss, and a lot of roots, but not much else. Few leaves grow beneath the canopy. It’s too dark. Everything aims for the canopy to grab the sunlight.
Trees use brute force, investing in thick trunks to carry their branches upward. Saplings stand here and there in the jungle, but young trees flourish only after an old tree crashes down, ripping a hole in the canopy. Light pours onto a waiting sapling that will rise like a titan.
Trees joust with each other. Softwood trees grow faster and outrace the hardwoods to reach the top first for their day in the sun. Hardwoods follow, slowly sawing their way up: hardwood branches, stirred by winds, grind against softwood branches and carve through, amputating softwood branches one by one.
When I see this video, I see trees wafting like gentle waves — and I see carnage, horrible sap-bleeding injury, and heartless brutal warfare. For me, a walk in the woods is both glorious and horrific, a place of exquisite cooperation and life-or-death competition. A tree faces its challenges fully armed and dangerous, an invaluable ally and a potent foe. Beware.
The book has been getting good reviews, as far as I can tell (I don’t really speak French): “J’ai été intriguée, puis enchantée par le mystère de Pax !” “…si un ami, un parent, un jour vous demande de quoi parle la science-fiction, vous pourrez toujours lui tendre Semiosis et lui dire : ça parle notamment de ça.” “Semiosis a été un bouleversement. Une petite pépite de science-fiction qu’il serait dommage de laisser de côté.”
The translator contacted me with a few questions as she was working on it. As a translator myself, I was happy to answer. There was a lot of world-building, and I had to keep copious notes to keep all the details straight. Her questions:
1) Lizards: They’re mentioned several times, and I understand there are different species and sizes. But are winged lizards, moth-winged lizards, bug-lizards and moths the same?
The winged lizards, moth-winged lizards, and bug-lizards are all varieties of lizards. The moths are more or less insects.
2) Bluebird reefs: Are they reefs “made” by bluebirds? Are they mineral or maybe animal? Is there any link between the bluebird reefs and the land corals?
Yes, the bluebirds make the reefs, which are very large communal nests. They’re made out of mud, sticks, grass, etc. They are unrelated to the land corals — although that’s a very logical question.
3) Boxer birds: Is the name due to aggressive behaviour?
Yes. The boxer birds will fight with other species. [This question probably owed to the multiple meanings of “boxer” in English. Does a boxer make or pack boxes, or does a boxer fight? It could be either, and the French word would be different for different kinds of boxers.]
4) Moderators: Are all Tatiana’s predecessors women? (I counted Paula, Vera, Sylvia, Rose’s mother, Rose herself, and 3 others are mentioned but not named.)
Yes, they are all women. [French is a gendered language, so again, the word for “moderator” might depend on their gender.]
5) Page 18, about a moon called Chandra, I feel like one or more words are missing from the following sentence: “That orbits almost the same Pax’s rotation.”
Yes, it should say, “That orbit’s almost the same as…” [She was apparently not working from the final copy-edited version.]
6) Page 32, could you explain what you mean with “I had brought a mind and a heart to Pax”?
That means he [Octavo] had brought both an intellect and sentiments: emotions and moral judgment.
On Saturday afternoon, I participated in the panel “Into the Woods: How have forests shaped fiction?” with Navah Wolfe, Jennifer Mace, Sarah Gailey, and Seanan McGuire, and we had fun.This is what winterhazelly took from it. https://twitter.com/winterhazelly/status/1164615304451973121
Report: Dublin 2019, an Irish Worldcon The 77th World Science Fiction Convention was held in Dublin, Ireland August 15 to 19
Future Worldcons should be held in a Tardis. Popular events could be put on a time loop so anyone could attend even if they conflicted with other events. More importantly, every room for panels, ceremonies, readings, or other events could be bigger on the inside than the outside so everyone would fit in.
As with some other Worldcons, space became an issue in Dublin. The convention was sold out at about 5,800 people, which was a few more than the Convention Centre Dublin (CCD) could handle. To accommodate that, the Spencer Hotel hosted children’s programming. The Odeon Point Square, a movie theater and unfinished commercial space almost a kilometer from the CCD, hosted the Art Show, book launches, acoustic concerts, craft workshops, art projects, displays, autographs, some panels, and the academic program.
Convention volunteers and venue staff did the best they could for crowd control cheerfully and efficiently. Despite the inconvenience, the snaking queues to get into events became good places to meet new people.
On Sunday afternoon, I gave a reading, specifically the opening of Chapter 6 from Interference, in which Stevland gets into an argument with a locustwood tree.
Other than that, the convention was splendid: well-organized and always on time. Events started at 9 a.m. with accessible yoga and a “stroll with the stars” morning walk, and ended in the wee hours at Martin Hoare’s Bar – known as Martin’s, named for the volunteer who was to be Fan Bar Manager but who died a few weeks before the convention.
The city of Dublin made visitors welcome with a good selection of hotels and other accommodations, convenient trams and buses, museums, sightseeing, restaurants, and bars. Like many people from overseas, I came early to tour the city and country, which was as green and beautiful as I’d been told.
During the Worldcon, thousands of tempting events vied for attention. I was drawn to panels, talks, readings, a couple of concerts, a medieval combat demonstration, a stand-up comedy show, and a dance; I wandered through the Art Show and Dealer’s area, perused displays and fan tables, attended parties, and spent a lot of time meeting friends from around the world. I could have also attended podcast recordings, plays, films, and workshops, gone on a treasure hunt, run through the park, and joined in role-playing or board games.
Convention organizers deserve praise for the volume, quality, and variety of programming, including some deftly made last-minute additions and changes due to crowds or popular demand. We never forgot for a moment the delight of attending an Irish Worldcon and being wished a hearty fáilte (welcome) at every turn. The convention newsletter, The Salmon of Knowledge, often included bits of local lore, such as the legendary origin of the Giant’s Causeway.
Like many people, I watched the Hugos in the overflow viewing area, the Second Stage, with the ceremony live-streamed on a large screen. The room had tables, a bar and a rapt audience. The ceremony, with charming and enthusiastic presenters, was marred only by a robot captioning system that we quickly learned to ignore after it turned Ada Palmer’s references to Lord of the Rings and Game of Thrones to “bored with the rings” and “cream of thrones” during her introduction to the Campbell Award winner. Of course there was a word or two by the evening’s recipients that ignited controversy, but that’s a feature of the Hugos, not a bug, and it seems to have accomplished something.
For me, one of the many highlightss of the convention came on Saturday evening at the Bright Club Ireland, a stand-up comedy show. Steve Cross made an obessively deep textual reading of The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy to determine the exact date that the Earth is destroyed by the Vogons. (Listen to a version of it here on BBC radio.)
John Scalzi’s Saturday night “Dance Across the Decades” turned one of the CCD halls into a three-hour writhing, rhythmic celebration of fannish ecstasy. It may become legend. Its stomping, sweaty crowd no doubt broke at least three distinct safety regulations, but the CCD staff wisely turned a blind eye.
My publisher, Tor, has posted the opening of the novel Interference, the sequel to Semiosis. As with Semiosis, each chapter is a different character. This is the opening to Chapter 1. Don’t worry, Stevland eventually gets his own chapter — and he owns it. No spoilers….
This year’s World Science Fiction Convention, or Worldcon, will be in Dublin, Ireland, from August 15 to 19. About 5,000 people are expected to attend. If you’ve never been, events include panels, gaming, writing workshops, costumes, speeches, awards, movies, music, dancing, parties, art, science, theater, children’s activities, and a lot more.
Worldcons are run by us fans — no paid staff. This helps account for the variety of activities. The size of the venue, not our collective imagination, is the only limitation. That’s why when you buy your ticket, it’s a membership fee. You don’t just observe, you belong.
I’m scheduled for four events:
Panel: Continuing relevance of older SF
Friday, August 16, 11:30 to 12:20, Odeon 4 (Point Square Dublin)
We are in a new millennium, a literal Brave New World. Surely much of the fiction of the 20th century no longer holds relevance? Or does it? The panel will discuss the fiction of the past and how it can still be relevant in the 21st century. What lessons from older authors such as Orwell, Asimov, Butler, Delany, Kafka, and Atwood can we apply to our app-loaded, social media-driven age?
I’ll moderate panelists Alec Nevala-Lee, Aliza Ben Moha, Robert Silverberg, and Joe Haldeman.
Book launch: World Science Fiction #1: Visions to Preserve Biodiversity of the Future
Saturday, August 17, 12:30 to 13:30, Point Square: Warehouse 2 – Performance space
Science fiction happens everywhere! World SF #1 collects some of the best stories published by Future Fiction, a multicultural project created by Francesco Verso to preserve the narrative biodiversity of the future. Come and celebrate these science fiction stories from thirteen countries and six languages. I translated the story “Francine (draft for the September lecture),” by Maria Antónia Marti Escayol. There will be light refreshments.
Panel: Into the woods
Saturday, August 17, 16:00 to 16:50, Wicklow Hall-1 (CCD)
From Little Red Riding Hood’s forests to Annihilation’s eldritch fungi, nature and plants have been a powerful force in fiction from historical fairy tales to far-future hydroponics. How have forests shaped fiction, and how has the use of nature in fiction changed over time? What do we love — or hate — about leaves?
Navah Wolfe will moderate panelists Jennifer Mace, Sarah Gailey, Seanan McGuire, and Sue Burke.
Reading: Sue Burke
Sunday, August 18, 17:30 to 17:50, ECOCEM Room (CCD)
I’ll read from Interference, the sequel to the novel Semiosis, and something else fun and plant-related.
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My husband and I are also coming to Ireland a week earlier as tourists. We’re preparing to be enthralled by the beauty of the Emerald Isle, the depth of its culture, and the charm of its people.
If you’re in Britain, you can hear me at 21:00 tomorrow, July 31, on BBC Radio 4, as part of the Stranger than Sci-Fi show’s episode “Talking Plants.”
I’ll provide some strange science fiction ideas for your hosts, physicist Dr. Jen Gupta and comedian Alice Fraser. Discover real-life science that sounds too strange to be true.
Pods on some other kinds of Oxalis explode, too. They’re commonly sold as “shamrock plants” around St. Patrick’s Day and make lovely houseplants. I also have an Oxalis triangularis and Oxalis regnellii.
Pods of various kinds explode as an effective way to spread seeds — one of many strategies. Dandelion seeds fly far using an air vortex that forms above their fluff. Other seeds put mucilage to various uses besides gluing themselves to you so you’ll inadvertently carry them away.
My novel Semiosis was on the shortlist, and I’m deeply honored by that.
Just in case, my editor at HarperVoyager in Great Britain, Jack Renninson, came with a speech to read on my behalf. In it, I thank Arthur C. Clark Award judges, for starters:
“The list of people I also need to thank is long: the ones who helped me with critiques and suggestions, the ones who helped me bring it to readers, and the ones who offered support at every stage. A book is a big group project.
“This novel started when I noticed my houseplants fighting with each other for sunlight. I began to learn more about plants, and I discovered how astonishing they are.
“An oak tree is as perfectly prepared for the challenges of survival as a human being, and it struggles as actively and aggressively as we do to meet those challenges. All life here on Earth is closely related and mutually interdependent. I wanted to explore those relationships, and science fiction gave me the tools to do it, especially to focus on one key question: What if our need for each other overcame all other concerns?
“We have that need, here and now. I hope this idea seeped out of the novel. Our survival as a species depends on the survival of countless other species.”