Category: trip report

Categories
trip report writing advice

I’m in London! And current rejection stats.

The two are not related.

Just I’ve been talking to a few writers who are even newer to this than me and I wanted to give some perspective on the short story submission thing. I’ve now had 20 sales, not counting reprints. Out of 20 short story sales:

  • Average number of rejections per sale: 6.85
  • Fewest rejections before publication: 0
  • Most rejections before publication: 20

Keep in mind that my sales range from pro to semi-pro to one that was token payment. I don’t submit stories to non-paying markets, period. I also have 9 stories that I’ve trunked without selling, because I stopped believing in them.

The three stories I consider to be the best I’ve written thus far—Comes the Huntsman, The Heart-Beat Escapement, and They Tell Me There Will Be No Pain—received 3, 7, and 4 rejections respectively before being published.

So basically, just keep bouncing your stories back out into the slush pile until you’ve either run out of markets (in which case you wait for a new one such as an antho to open) or run out of belief in your vision and/or your execution of that vision in writing.

And yes, I am in London right now. I’m enjoying my vacation already in my most splendidly failtastic style, which is to say I do a lot of sleeping and taking my sweet time at the gym and working at the non-geology jobs and typing on the computer while I listen to the ambient sound of a foreign city. That’s how I roll. The flight was good (I got a whole row to myself), the getting to the rental flat was a comedy of errors, and I can’t figure out how to make one of the showers work because I think its controls were put together as a joke. (The Canadian couldn’t figure it out either so you don’t get to blame this on me being a stupid American. Blame the stupid inscrutable British plumbing.)

You know, normal life in the UK when I’m here. Planning to live on a diet of toast, nutella, and bananas for the next week. Generally pleased with everything, looking forward to hanging out with friends. The pay as you go gym is unfortunately further away than I wanted thanks to us being moved to a different flat, but the space is nice. All of the guys in the strength training room very carefully Did Not Notice My Existence, which is how I prefer it. Except for one guy who made an abortive lunge for the bar when I was doing my final rep in a set of 105lb bench presses, so I had to assure him that I totally had it. At which point he started carefully ignoring me as well, but with occasional sidelong glances just to let me know I was worrying him. I try to take these things as adorable, well-meaning helper fails as opposed to anything more frustrating. (But really, people, don’t lunge at the bar unless someone actually asks for help, it’s kind of distracting.)

Looking forward to a relaxing week before Worldcon!

Categories
tom hiddleston trip report

Hello from London

It’s been a busy, busy several days. I’m in London right now, more project stuff. I helping with this so much I can’t even tell you.

I also saw Coriolanus for a second time with friends. I’m glad I had the opportunity, since there’s so much more to pick out on a second round, particularly if you sit in a different part of the theater. Still impressed that Tom Hiddleston has brought such depth to Martius the prideful douchebag. Still want to write Aufidius and Coriolanus slash, but I just couldn’t swing the iambic pentameter. On second viewing, Birgitte Hjort Sørensen’s performance really leaped out at me more. There’s so much she does with just looks and very subtle facial expressions. But everyone in that play is good, we already knew that. (Rochenda Sandall is definitely my favorite part of the ensemble cast.)

One thing that did strike me on this go around was, like in Hamlet, just how much subtle funny there was in the play. What makes those lines funny is entirely the delivery–particularly since the jokes sometimes aren’t as apparent to the people in the audience today as they might have been back when the play was written. The timing and tone of it was all excellent. And it makes me wonder why Shakespeare movies often seem intent on sucking the bits of humor out of the play. It’s a nice relief from the feeling of impending doom inevitably comes with knowing the play is a tragedy.

Oh, and the chairs still steal the show. I wish I could have had my picture taken with one. I was all set to make that incredibly awkward request, but couldn’t track down the right person to ask in the mess of people after the show. Sadness. I also did make the attempt to queue for the stage door after because I was so bereft after being kept from the chairs I thought that might fill the gaping void in my heart. But wait, that would violate my life goal of never actually meeting Tom Hiddleston! Fear not, gentle readers. The queue got cut off somewhere like 5-10 people in front of me. The fabric of space and time is still safe, as we passed quietly by like ships in the night.

London (but probably not Tom Hiddleston. Probably.) has now destroyed my right shoe. There’s a crack across the sole, and it made for an incredibly squishy and uncomfortable walk back to the flat from my dinner with Ingvar. (Ingvar showed me mercy this time and did not ply me with alcohol.) I think instead of buying another set of Pumas (though there is a Puma shop in London, I checked) I’m going to just go whole hog and get a pair of Doc Martens. I honestly think they’ll be more comfortable for all the walking I’m doing anyway. I don’t think the thin soles of Pumas have necessarily made the plantar fasciitis in my right foot worse, but I honestly don’t think it’s helping, either.

So tomorrow, there will be shoes. I am also planning to take the train down to Waterloo station for the sole purpose of taking a ride on the Waterloo & City line, because Ingvar told me that’s the deepest of all the lines (and it literally has only two stations) and that sounded kind of cool. I have a feeling it will be one of those things that sounded much cooler than it will actually turn out to be, but I’ll bring a book and look forward to riding seven thousand escalators up to the surface so I can blinking, step into the sun…

(Join with me now: Because there’s more to see than can every be seen, more to do than can ever be done…)

Also, you should know I have started a new writing project. Its title is simply Tea. And that’s all I’m saying about it for now. I’m just going to boil in my own amusement.

Categories
convention steampunk trip report

Octopodicon

Octopodicon was my first every Steampunk convention, and I admit that I was kind of nervous. I absolutely love the steampunk aesthetic, but I am not a very fancy person myself. On of my life goals is to be a very dapper sir, but I prefer my dapperness to be a bit more… understated. Plus I’m utter crap with crafts, which doesn’t help. I went in feeling a bit intimidated, to be honest.

I don’t know what I expected–perhaps the steampunk fashion police to swoop down and judge me insufficiently punked out? Silly, in retrospect. Everyone was absolutely lovely and I never felt out of place. Rather, I was unquestioningly welcomed, and I appreciate that so very much.

Plus, I found the hats I’ve been needing all my life. YES HATS.  I now have everything I could want for all my dapper needs.

I had such a good time at this convention. The highlight of it for me was actually Saturday night. There were dance lessons, and I decided to go because I actually really like dancing even if I’m terrible at it. For a little while I thought I’d be the odd woman out, but then I ended up getting partnered with Sherry. I got to be the man because I had trousers and an awesome hat, and we waltzed and waltzed and waltzed. And then danced in a little competition and won it for Team Steampunk.

That was honestly one of the coolest moments of my life. Yes, it was just us against one other couple. But I won a dance competition. I won a freaking dance competition.

Man, I love dancing. I wish I could do it more often! But there was more dancing that day, since then there was all sorts of live performances and I danced to Darwin Prophet‘s music. [WARNING: Autoplaying music WHY DO YOU DO THIS]

Sunday was my working day; I did two panels and had a reading. I was excited that I got to do a panel with John Dee again–I got to be on a couple with him at FenCon. WE ARE AN EFFECTIVE TEAM. (You can tell because John also hates that movie.) The reading was small but went well–everyone who was there seemed to like what I read! So that was good. I also got to meet Patricia Ash of Gear Hearts Magazine–I’m hoping to write a little story for them soon.

So for a first Steampunk con, this was definitely a success. I’m looking forward to going to another soon!

Categories
the reel britain trip report

The Reel Britain in London

I just realized I should probably record this on my own personal blog as well, since y’all might be interested in this and, I don’t know, not following me on Twitter. (Seriously, why are you not following me on Twitter? WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?)

From October 13-25 I was in London. Me being in the UK is not actually that unusual, considering that I have in-laws and friends there, and now I have money since huzzah I am no longer a grad student. However, this time I was over in London to work. But not geology work–no, it was to work on filming for The Reel Britain. We filmed 15 interviews and 4 red carpets in the time we were there, as well as other footage in London, so as you can imagine we were busy.

Want to find out more? I blogged almost daily:

This was honestly one of the most incredible experiences of my life. I’m lucky to have had it, and glad to share it.

Categories
trip report

So, my day has been amazing. How about yours?

I’m in New York City to go to NYCC. Despite this, I have not actually gone to NYCC at all. So, there’s that.

Instead I ran a 5k this morning, the Terry Fox Run. Which is a charity run for cancer research. I like doing charity events, but I didn’t really go out raising money for this one because I decided to participate, spontaneously, yesterday. Because a friend of mine was going and I decided to go with her. I haven’t actually run that long before… the furthest I’ve gone is 2.75 miles and it kind of killed me. But I did it! Full 5k. My time was 37:43, which isn’t great, but I RAN A 5K OKAY.

I’ve been saying I want to run a 5K ever since I started running. I guess I just realized that I’d never feel prepared enough if I didn’t just do it. So I just did it. And it was rough, but I finished! Woohoo!

Then the rest of the day was divided between trying to get to and from the hotel so I could shower, and then being at Lincoln Center to see Only Lovers Left Alive. Which was amazing. Tilda Swinton is just too cute and I can’t even with her. There is a lot more I’d like to say about the movie but I’m kind of drunk right now and we’re playing Cards Against Humanity so there you go. So let’s just say it was awesome and everything you’ve heard about it is true.

And then I went to a diner and had sweet potato fries and ricotta pancakes with Kate and we talked a bunch. I can’t wait to see her again next week because she’s awesome.

Anyway, nowhere in there did I make it to NYCC, and I’m okay with that to be honest. I’m not big into waiting in lines. I could have done without all the mass transit fuckery, but this was all about hanging out with people and seeing my friends! And I’d rather do that any time.

And now we’re playing Cards Against Humanity and drinking Jardonnay, which is wine in hilarious tiny plastic jars. I love my friends. This alone has made the trip one of the best I’ve had.

Tomorrow–London! I can’t wait. Which is good, because I have to be up in like three hours to go to the airport I hate my life. Except not really. JARDONNAY.

(PS I’m sleepy and drunk so please forgive all errors.)

Categories
stuff in the uk trip report

This is the part where you get to be even more jealous of me: Stratford (and Newark Park House)

Yes. Not only am I surrounded by delicious biscuits and all the milky tea I can drink, yesterday I went to Stratford. And saw the Royal Shakespeare Company perform Hamlet. (And also went to Shakespeare’s birthplace, which was cool too.) Then today I went to the Newark Park House, which is just ridiculously beautiful.

Ready for some pictures?

IMG_20130509_041728_622

More under the cut.

Continue reading “This is the part where you get to be even more jealous of me: Stratford (and Newark Park House)”
Categories
stuff in the uk trip report

A Brunel Kind of Day

It was another day for tourist things, this time closer to home, in Bristol. We started out at the Avon Gorge, so I could look at the pretty rocks.

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The pretty rocks are mostly Carboniferous limestones and a bit of sandstones. Apparently there are fossils, but I never got near enough to the limestones to look. It’s a nice, deep river valley that formed during the last glacial maximum. Very pretty. Though I  find the river very strange to look at since it’s so tidally influenced it was just a trickle when we were there. It’s hard to imagine ships going up the river, but you can also tell how deep it is when the tide comes in by looking at the extent of the mud banks.

Now, the reason to go to Avon Gorge is to see the Clifton Suspension Bridge, which was designed by Isambard Kingdom Brunel, owner of the most fantastic name I have ever encountered in my life. I am going to have to name a character in the Adventures of Captain Ramos Isambard. The bridge is pretty impressive just because of how high up it is, and the chains on it are not what I’m used to chains looking like.

[pe2-image src=”http://lh4.ggpht.com/-l78DSDFDn7g/UYp6zmYHeBI/AAAAAAAALV8/9_C7bi7C9ZY/s144-c-o/IMG_20130508_060949_065.jpg” href=”https://picasaweb.google.com/104914909709893493346/080513Bristol#5875643690751850514″ caption=”IMG_20130508_060949_065″ type=”image” alt=”IMG_20130508_060949_065″ ] [pe2-image src=”http://lh5.ggpht.com/-WYftWXDr9j4/UYp7wc35yBI/AAAAAAAALYs/zhahE8ajDdE/s144-c-o/IMG_20130508_060117_725.jpg” href=”https://picasaweb.google.com/104914909709893493346/080513Bristol#5875644736172836882″ caption=”IMG_20130508_060117_725″ type=”image” alt=”IMG_20130508_060117_725″ ]

 There are also signs for the Samaritans (basically the suicide prevention hotline) all over the bridge so… yeah.

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 Anyway, it’s a beautiful spot.

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 After, we went to the SS Great Britain, which was also designed by Isambard Kingdom Brunel. There is a lot of cool information about the Great Britain, which is better read at the Wikipedia page than reiterated here by me. But the coolest thing I think is that the ship (now museum) was returned to the dry dock in which she was built, and there she has stayed.

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 You can go down into the dry dock, which is truly very dry. There’s a massive dehumidifier system under there to try to arrest the corrosion of the iron hull. There’s a glass ceiling with a thin layer of water above to give the ship the illusion of being in water when viewed from above. Hilariously, it also means people can look like they’re walking on water if they go in.

There’s a nice audio tour for the ship, which is a very nicely done museum, preserving the ship’s history as a passenger liner. One of the tours says it’s about Sinbad, the ship’s cat. I asked for that one and was informed, after a disbelieving stare, “That one’s for children.” I said, “Yes, I know. That’s the one I want.” After another stare, the lady handed over the audio tour unit once my mother in law informed her, “It’s all right, she’s American.”

So there you go, my fellow Americans.

It’s false advertising anyway. The children’s tour is actually about a little first class passenger named Florence who spends her whole time chasing the poor, ginger cat. I felt like I was robbed. The tour would have been way more fun if it had been from the fictional viewpoint of an anthropomorphic tabby. So bleh on you, SS Great Britain museum tours.

I think my favorite part of the ship was the replica engine.

[pe2-image src=”http://lh3.ggpht.com/-Yf45SLkIqBM/UYp3pmkK74I/AAAAAAAALMM/BMaapjyivWo/s144-c-o/IMG_20130508_083735_166.jpg” href=”https://picasaweb.google.com/104914909709893493346/080513Bristol#5875640220468834178″ caption=”IMG_20130508_083735_166″ type=”image” alt=”IMG_20130508_083735_166″ ] [pe2-image src=”http://lh3.ggpht.com/-p6YAPX9DScU/UYp3u8whRrI/AAAAAAAALMc/yB9BEEC5nZw/s144-c-o/IMG_20130508_083432_142.jpg” href=”https://picasaweb.google.com/104914909709893493346/080513Bristol#5875640312325555890″ caption=”IMG_20130508_083432_142″ type=”image” alt=”IMG_20130508_083432_142″ ]

 Well, and my moment of being very dapper.

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 I want a top hat of my own. I would wear it whenever the hell I pleased.

There was also some fun fake food in the galley and first class dining room. You know how I am about fake food.

[pe2-image src=”http://lh6.ggpht.com/-AvybrwDY4bc/UYp3Cr9hsoI/AAAAAAAALKU/4v9q-UjJ_NI/s144-c-o/IMG_20130508_090552_869.jpg” href=”https://picasaweb.google.com/104914909709893493346/080513Bristol#5875639551902462594″ caption=”IMG_20130508_090552_869″ type=”image” alt=”IMG_20130508_090552_869″ ] [pe2-image src=”http://lh6.ggpht.com/-7F-bS-5_ePg/UYp3dSsyIsI/AAAAAAAALLk/Ox29RgnF2qo/s144-c-o/IMG_20130508_085845_096.jpg” href=”https://picasaweb.google.com/104914909709893493346/080513Bristol#5875640008977818306″ caption=”IMG_20130508_085845_096″ type=”image” alt=”IMG_20130508_085845_096″ ]

 …but then it all got a bit Silent Hill.

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 Also, this is apparently a game. Called, and I am not making this up, the Nut Spinner.

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 No one knows how it was played. Insert your joke here.

After, it was getting rainy and we were touristed out, so we headed back home. We had to stop at a bridge while a barge went through, so you know what has to happen.

[pe2-image src=”http://lh6.ggpht.com/-Gkx2FZZraoI/UYpsgkvdWJI/AAAAAAAALHk/GZE7woFL6Iw/s144-c-o/IMG_20130508_093113_825.jpg” href=”https://picasaweb.google.com/104914909709893493346/080513Bristol#5875627970732578962″ caption=”IMG_20130508_093113_825″ type=”image” alt=”IMG_20130508_093113_825″ ]

 And of course.

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 In honor of the release of the World’s End trailer. Though I know, I know. I should have gotten a mint cornetto instead. I panicked. I’m sorry.

I have a ton more pictures if you’d like to see them! They’re at my Picasa album.

And you know what I’m doing tomorrow? I’M GOING TO STRATFORD, BITCHES. Going to see Hamlet done by the Royal Shakespeare Company. YES. GIVE ME YOUR ENVY. IT TASTES LIKE SWEET CANDY TO ME AHAHAHAHA.

Categories
stuff in the uk trip report

A relaxing day in Cambridge

Spent today bumming around Cambridge with our friend Dan. We’ve now hit the pub by his place (the Green Dragon) twice for dinner, and it’s been pretty good both time. There is this thing they do that involves a steak covered with cheese and we really don’t need to get more deeply into it than that.

It was a grey day, but it’s basically been nothing but grey days the entire time we’ve been in the UK. The Cam was very swollen, up onto the natural banks in places, which is not good. The sluice gate at Jesus Lock was partially open, which kicked up an impressive sediment plume in the water. There was also quite a bit of standing water in the various commons we passed by, shallow little ponds with park benches and trees sticking up out of them.

There were quite a few house boats parked along the river banks, many of them complete with cats. One of the cats was a very seriously little orange tabby who came up onto the path to be petted by us. (We didn’t see him later when we came back, post-rain-storm, but there was a cat flap in the door of the boat so we figure he was safe and dry). There was also a pretty grey and brown tabby who had a lot to say to us, and a very quiet black cat who seemed well aware of the fact that there were swans not five feet from him on the other side of the boat.

We did most of our walking when it wasn’t really raining much, and sat out the worst of the storm while having coffee at a little Italian cafe.

Pictures here.

Categories
for fun Loki NERD texas trip report

In which Loki moves to Houston (with Rachael): a tale told (mostly) in pictures

Loki, for reasons entirely his own but no doubt both devilish and nefarious, decided to move to Houston on the backs of his two hapless mortal minions, Mike and Rachael.

They departed Denver bright an early on Sunday morning.

The scenery quickly became less interesting.

And then Kansas.

Which both claimed I-70 was its main street (Loki scoffed) and had more than its fair share of road construction. “Tiresome,” Loki commented.

As prairie dogs were so numerous as to warrant their own towns, and apparently came in varieties that grew up to 50 feet tall, Loki considered their merits as a secondary army.

Even gods require food.

Perhaps the most curious variant of corn available in Kansas.
The proximity to a gas pump let Loki feel even more evil and powerful, though he wasn’t quite certain why.
“Kneel before me, mortals of Oklahoma,” was Loki’s only comment. Being that there were no people in sight, but quite a few cows, and all the cows were in various states of prostration, he found that acceptable for the time being.
Though even he grew weary after a time.
Loki noted a distinct lack of both the wind sweeping down the plains, or the waving wheat smelling at all sweet.
Camp was made and Mythbusters was watched.
On the morrow, Loki kept close watch on the mortal hotel clerk.
Oklahoma’s finest were suitably intimidated by his presence.
The God of Mischief may be temporarily appeased by a cherry limeade. But only temporarily.

“We shall see who is truly alarmed, pitiful mortal device!”
At last, the apartment was reached, and Loki’s minions set to carrying his many belongings inside and arranging them to his satisfaction.
While for his part, Loki defeated a sandwich in a most epic battle of wits and strength.
And rewarded himself with a sugary confection after.
“I shall have my internet, mortal cable technician, or I shall know the reason why!”
At last, things temporarily arranged to his satisfaction, Loki rested. 
Goodnight, Loki.
Categories
geology history trip report

Welcome to Silent Hill, PA

It’s May 3, 2012. Ten hours to go until the US premiere of Avengers and I’m in central Pennsylvania with a group of friends specifically to see that movie. How to pass the time?

Well, the native of Pennsylvania (my dear friend Rynn) mentions that we’re maybe an hour away from Centralia.

If you’re not a fan of horror videogames or somewhat obscure but recent east coast history, Centralia probably doesn’t ring any bells. It’s the town that was devastated by an underground coal fire. It’s a haunting place where white smoke stinking of sulfur billows from the ground itself and the roads collapse as the fire continues to eat its way through the coal veins. Trees in the area are bleached and blasted by the fumes.

Centralia was the inspiration for the fictional town of Silent Hill, which spawned a successful franchise of survival horror videogames as well as a somewhat less impressive movie. In the original game (Silent Hill) and the movie, it was clear that the billowing white fog engulfing the town was actually smoke and ash from the underground fires. In later games, the fog was left to be more traditional water vapor and the mining town history fell by the wayside.

Needless to say, as a fan of the games, I leap at the chance to see Centralia.

If you’re expecting someplace as haunting and creepy as the video game setting, I can’t guarantee that Centralia will deliver. On the day we go, the fires aren’t burning with particular ferocity – the air is almost entirely clear. It’s sunny and more than a little muggy, the surrounding hills bursting with plant life in a way I’m still not used to as a resident of Colorado. But the trip is perhaps more interesting because it’s nothing like what I expect.

There are two halves to a look at Centralia. There’s the town itself – or what’s left of it – and a closed-off portion of road that used to be part of Route 61.

The actual Route 61 now circumvents this section, swinging wide between two hills to avoid the slowly extending fire damage that undermines the landscape. But if you follow the road north out of Ashland, you’ll come to a cemetery at the top of a hill before you hit the next town. Park nearby and the old section of Route 61 isn’t hard to find.

It’s utterly deserted, but you can still hear the sounds of traffic from the nearby reroute. The road itself is covered with graffiti. Apparently when you’re a teenager in rural central Pennsylvania, this is what you do for a good time on a Friday night. Most of the graffiti is penis-based, or names and dates from visitors. There are a disturbing number of swastikas that have been drawn on the asphalt. And here and there are nerd shout-outs to the other reason people come here, the one that doesn’t involve drinking and drawing cartoonish genitalia – Welcome to Silent Hill, PA and There was a hole here. Now it’s gone. The road surface buckles, wavers, and cracks, broken-up graffiti showing that the surface destruction is recent and continuing as the subterranean fires march ever onward.

I think in the future, I’m going to have a hard time seeing how clean the roads look in post-apocalyptic future visions. Because if there is even one remaining teenager in the world, and one remaining can of spray paint, it seems almost inevitable that things will end up covered in dicks.

Getting into the remains of the town itself requires backtracking and going around the side of the hill. Rynn’s GPS unit still shows the ghost of streets that no longer exist. At the base of the hill, a few houses still stand, and are obviously occupied. The rest are empty lots surrounded by low stone walls, showing where houses once existed.

Further up the hill, the destruction of Centralia is total, and largely man-made. If the streets were ever paved, they aren’t any more. It’s dirt and gray gravel now, slices of thinly-laminated black shale showing through where runoff has carried away the surface soil. The black shale crawls with tiny, bright pink mites that look like they should belong to a 1980s Atari game.

There were obviously once houses up and down this hill, but nothing remains, just flattened lots that have plainly been bulldozed.

Broken up bricks and concrete are still visible, the remains of walls and foundations that haven’t been completely removed. The ground is littered with broken glass and shotgun shells; I guess since unpaved tracks don’t provide the same graffiti opportunities, this part of the disaster is used as a shooting range. Strange little bits of civilization still peep out of the surrounding trees, like this wooden utility pole.

This is where it finally begins to feel eerie, seeing these ghostly remains of what was once a town. There are a lot of reasons for the government to have seen to the destruction of the unoccupied houses. With toxic fumes rising from the ground, allowing abandoned buildings to stand and invite squatters is a potentially lethal proposition. They’d be fire hazards. And it’s a way to discourage gawkers like myself from picking over the bones of Centralia.

But all the same, it’s disquieting to see there was once life and it has been so plainly removed.

And even on this clear, beautiful day, there is a reminder of the fires that still rage through the coal seams. Smoke isn’t billowing, but the air smells faintly and pervasively of sulfur. There are holes in the ground from which wispy smoke drifts. Like a ghost, it doesn’t photograph, but it’s there to see with your own eyes.

Seeing smoke come out of the ground is something that disturbs a deep, primal portion of your brain. The smoke stinks like matches, and you know that’s bad and you really should just get the hell away. Even worse, when the breeze shifts and the smoke washes over you, it’s notably hotter than the muggy air. You feel it like breath on your face.

And you let yourself imagine that this might just be a little hint of hell. Because an endlessly burning, unquenchable fire that burns slowly underground, eatings its way through the bones of old trees certainly fits the bill. In that moment, sunny day or no, you’re still waiting to hear the old air-raid sirens.

Epilogue

There’s something else you can see from the ruins of Centralia, which sums up so much of the way the region feels to an outsider like myself.

Throughout the region, there are enormous, flat topped tailings piles, the remains of open-pit mines where machinery has chewed up all the coal and spat out the pieces we didn’t want to burn. They are ugly sores on the landscape, though you do see places where plants have begun to move back in. From Centralia, standing in the bulldozed shadow of a house, you can see one of these flat-topped monstrosities lined with the graceful white forms of enormous windmills, blades turning slowly in the breeze.

With the stink of sulfurous coal smoke permeating the air, the windmills really do feel like a distant promise, one that you might be able to reach if you can just stretch your arms far enough.

For a little more about the history of Centralia and its underground fire here is one site.
For the rest of my pictures from Centralia you can look through my online album.