Happy new year. I’m writing to you from Chandler, AZ: Phoenix suburb and the “Self-Driving Capital of the World” according to Wired. I came out here to ride Waymo AVs and as it happens, today is the rare rainy day in town (which presented exactly the kind of complications I was hoping to encounter tbh). Why I am doing this is not exactly a secret, but I’ll discuss that more in future newsletters. In the meantime, here are quick notes on my experience of riding four fully-unself-driven driver-drove extremely un-autonomous Waymo Ones.

There was moderate rain this morning and when I tried to hail a Waymo, I got an alert that said, “All cars are busy. Please try again later.” By lunch time, the rain stopped and I finally booked a ride from Whole Foods to Target. There was another alert that said, “an autonomous specialist is accompanying this ride.”

It took about ten minutes for the car to arrive. From where I stood, I could see what looked like human hands on the steering wheel somewhat obscured by the the windshield glare. When I got in, the driver—who stayed silent as the automated voice said something like “Hello Joanne. Enjoy your ride”—was not only steering but driving the car as any ordinary driver would.

In Filmmaker magazine, for my Speculations column that appears in the print quarterly, I started the year with an essay on the use of firearms in American zombie films (and the notable absence in zombie films set and filmed elsewhere.) In the spring issue, I wrote about Amazon’s creepy YouTube recruitment videos and how the gig economy is depicted in films like Sorry We Missed You and Sorry to Bother You. Then I had a column on the twentieth anniversary of All About Lily Chou-Chou. In the latest issue, I have an essay on how the role of the android in cinema and storytelling is changing as the shortcomings of artificial intelligence are all around us.

The paperback edition of Lurking was published in February. That month, I wrote a profile of Patricia Lockwood for New York magazine on the occasion of her extraordinary novel, No One Is Talking About This.

In Technology Review, I wrote about science fiction novels set in real places and how it requires a special kind of world-building skill to develop a city when its origins are already known. Some of the books discussed in the essay include Chi Ta-wei’s The Membranes, N. K. Jemisin’s The City We Became, and The Sunken Land Begins to Rise Again by M. John Harrison.

For Dirty Furniture—a terrific design magazine based in London—I wrote about prank calls and telephone scams for the “Phone” issue. And I’ve got an essay on the “used future” in 70s science fiction for the design magazine U-Joints that I wrote about the same time but that piece is still forthcoming. (The working title is “Jalopy Spaceships and Malfunctioning Androids: The ‘Used Future’ in Film.” Basically everything I’m obsessed with in one short piece.)

In the fall of 2019, I had a confusing exchange with an editor over my contribution to an art magazine's end of decade issue. My piece was killed and I wasn't quite sure why. At the time, I was swamped with my day job, prepping for the book release, and a few other freelance assignments. I figured it just wasn't my best work and stuffed the text in my folder of other * not my best works * which includes killed pieces, half-finished things, sentence or two written things, and so forth.

But I just happened to glance at it again, and wait—hold on—it's...not bad?

There's not a lot of tech criticism in general in proportion to the size of this beast (as I complain about often.) This has led to problems like chronology of events and controversy being misrepresented by the tech industry (which I point out in this piece). Anyway, this is a super deep cut and really not my best work (what "2010s in..." summary could be?) but I do think it's important to keep these observations public-facing rather than buried (as many other pieces in that folder of mine deserve to remain). — Joanne

One of the strangest things about the timing of my book release is, I was among the last authors with an in-person event to appear on Book TV. The episode was only meant to play about once or twice, but given the quarantine situation, within a week, the show would have no new episodes. I set up an alert to find out when it would air, and ended up receiving bunches and bunches of messages, "Dear Joanne mcneil, [Lurking] is scheduled to air in 4 minutes on C-SPAN 2." The alerts usually were at three in the morning, which made it all the more strange. If I stayed up particularly late, I would see these automated emails informing me that my face was on television.

Here's the episode, by the way. I thought it went pretty well.

Book TV is now airing virtual book events so I no longer get these alerts. Although, it is possible my upcoming event at the Brooklyn Book Festival will be recorded so I will get new alerts and possibly see my face on TV at 3am once again.

I was also lucky to have one podcast episode scheduled before the coronavirus took over all conversations and way of life. If you have thirty minutes, and would like to know more about the book, I think my appearance on the Theory of Everything was one of the best interviews I did. It is certainly the best general introduction to the book besides, I guess, reading the book. It helps that Benjamen Walker is a friend and a serious reader. Plus, he has a solid history of the internet already and could ask in-depth questions specific to the book.

I was asked to contribute to New York magazine’s Future issue in November of last year. My piece was cut for space and I keep meaning to post the full text somewhere. This newsletter seems about as good a place as any. Here is it:

Last spring, Jeff Bezos delivered a public presentation about his plans for Blue Origin, the aerospace company he owns and funds with liquidated Amazon stock. Standing in what looked like a black box theater and pacing with the easy confidence and careful steps of a monologist; this modest staging only enhanced the wild ideas and trippy illustrations he had to share. A “trillion humans” could live in space, he said, some in artificial gravity where human flight won’t be out of the question. There, the architecture will be fanciful and unexpected, because shelter from harsh climate won’t be a necessary component to design—these spaces will be perpetual “shirt-sleeve environments” that feel like Maui “on its best day.” When he finally unveiled a prototype for a lunar lander called Blue Moon, the space cargo carrier seemed local, almost provincial, in contrast with the faux-Hawaii-in-the-stars “our grandchildren’s grandchildren” are set to inherit. Whatever comes out of that mockup, this presentation signaled that Bezos is laser-focused on development in final frontier. He’s a NASA of his own and one unaccountable to constituents.

I’ve been a little wary of virtual events for a number of reasons, but it is better than nothing and sometimes it really works. The event I have scheduled this week, I think will be one of those occasions—and I’m pretty excited about it!

I’ll be speaking with Sarah Jaffe on Wednesday, April 29th, at 7pm EST on the Bold Type Books Crowdcast site.

Sarah Jaffe has hosted a podcast called for years now and her new series of virtual events feels like a natural extension of it.

All of the upcoming events in the previous email are canceled now. So it goes! But if you happen to be at home (more than likely) and online (probably) on Wednesday, March 18th, please consider browsing over to The Drax Files Radio Hour. I will be in virtual conversation with Drax, the host of this metaverse-based video broadcast, beginning at 2pm Eastern/11am Pacific.

And after that… well, let’s wait and see.

One of the nice things about publishing a book is the chance to schedule events at some of my favorite bookstores and speak with writers I admire. Here's the list of events I have coming up. Hope you can make it out!

The book launch is in Brooklyn on Thursday, February 27th. I'll be in conversation with Sonia Saraiya, one of my favorite critics, at Books are Magic.

And a few other stops in March and April:

Thursday, March 5 — Cambridge, MA. Harvard Book Store With Kendra Albert

My book, which comes out on February 25, is somehow already on sale; as in, it can be purchased now and in your hands by the end of the week. A few websites have it as a buy it now option. They have listed the galley/ARC for sale (a far from complete version of the text that only looks like the finished copy after squinting a little.) And, of course, the ARC for Lurking, like pretty much every ARC, says "NOT FOR SALE" right on the cover.

Puzzled by this, I came across a story on WBUR written by the author Nichole Bernier, who discovered the ARC for her book beside hardback and paperback copies of her novel at a used bookstore. She discusses all the complications related to the resale of galleys; including the counterpoint that some people do collect galleys, especially for their favorite authors. (BTW: look at that "This article is more than 6 years old" tag at the top. I wish more publications did that.)

An ARC is a peculiar object that's not completely promotional and not totally a gift either. So what is one to do with a book that is not supposed to be the real book, an object that is "not for sale" that is very much like another object that is or will be? Many readers and booksellers make it habit to donate their old ARCs to shelters and prisons; especially because paperback copies are usually preferred (or the only books allowed.)

But I say this as someone who has bought ARCs from a bookstore myself. The Toadstool Bookshop in New Hampshire seems to have come across an ideal solution to pass the gift along. They sell them in mystery grab bags and donate all the money to a local charity:

My book, Lurking, comes out this February and I hope you will check it out. If you enjoy All My Stars you will like this book. (The book is a lot better than my newsletter.) It is a look at the last thirty years of online communities and online identities; what went wrong and what might still turn around or finally go right.

If you’d like to preorder the book—first, that’s very kind of you—it’s a preorder pick at The Writer’s Block bookstore in Las Vegas, which offers a 15% off discount. You can also preorder from any independent bookstore or request a copy for your library. You’ll get the book and you’ll get to look at the loud, lovable, kooky cover up close.