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| Monday, July 13th, 2009 |
theferrett
|
11:38a |
A Thought On Fiction That's Still News To Me
"I liked your story," said Geoffrey, "But I didn't love it." He sounded quite serious, even grave, about this deep flaw. Then he gave me two pages of critique painstakingly gained from rereading it and trying to figure out why he didn't love it. A year after I've finished the Clarion workshop, I think that's the biggest lesson I took home. See, when I started out, my first act was to hand my story to my Uncle Tommy. He liked it. And then, if I thought it was good enough, I'd hand it to my friends, who also liked it. Even twenty years ago, as a teenager, I was perfectly capable of writing a story that people could get to the end of; my prose was readable, my characters not so poorly formed that people flung up their hands, the endings were a bit strained but certainly workable. I thought good was a fine, fine thing to be. Then I sent out my manuscripts, and they came back to me transformed into little pre-typed rejection slips, and I could never figure out why. These stories were perfectly good. At the time, we had no Internet, and I couldn't look around me. But these days, you have an advantage over me; go to any fanfiction site and you'll find proof that good fiction isn't that hard to write. There are thousands of stories written by a huge variety of people. And while there are laughably bad stories in any archive, there aren't as many as you'd think. Truth is, most fanfic stories are readable - start them, and if they're of a reasonable length, it won't be a trial to get to the end. Some of them have a clever bit or two that stick out - a good line, an interesting concept, a solid plot. If you were a non-writer and someone handed it to you and said "Read this!" you'd say it was good. Good like a thousand other stories. Good in that it was better than a non-author could do. Good in that it held your attention weakly for the time it took to slap your eyes on it. Good in that once you were done with it, you'd never really think about it again. What I didn't realize back then is that "good" from my friends is a damning flaw, the one that will stop you from ever getting published. Every editor worth his salt is cracking the seal on twenty good stories a day. A former editor friend of mine told me that if she had to grade most of the stories she read, the average would be a B - the competent work of a workaday writer. The thing I learned at Clarion is this: You do not want good. You want great. You want the kind of story that springs unbidden to mind three days later. You want that fabulously bleak ending that echoes in their dreams. You want the kind of story where as soon as the reader's done, they flip back to the beginning to read it again. You want the story that they hand to their friends and say, "You have to read this, because this is me." If you cannot do that, you have failed. These qualities mean, of course, that you will fail a lot. Even professional authors fail at it daily - you're lucky to find two or three stories like that in any given author's short fiction collection - so what chance do you have? Not much. But if you keep working, keep honing the craft, keep really writing stories that are reflections of you, you might grab that third rail of glory once - and then learn how to do it again. Don't get me wrong, getting to good is a struggle in and of itself. Most people can't do that; it puts you in the top 98% of society. But your fiction will not, cannot, end at a mere good. When I was younger and far more foolish, I might have written off Geoffrey's critique. "He liked it," I said. "That's fine. I got him to like it - how many people can do that? Like's great." But these days, when a crit group says it was good, I know I have more work to do. I need love. Big, gouty, gushy love from a vast majority of the people I show it to. Good is the new average. And until I get that love, I'm not good. Not yet. |
jennlee2
|
10:25a |
Heh, I rock
It was my mom's birthday over the weekend. I bought her a Wii. And she LOVES it! Yay! Also picked blackberries this weekend - got a large bucket full, and ended up making three pies (froze two of them pre-cooked, will give one to my mother), and still have a bunch of berries left to do something with. Have to get ready for an upcoming vacation that is coming up too fast! I'm not ready! Way too much to do. Was talking to my mother over the weekend and joked with her that if I was retired, I could go with them on this trip they are taking, but as I have to work, its just too short notice. So she went on about how she doesn't think I'd like retiring and that I should work until I'm at least 60. But I spent the weekend thinking about how cool it used to be when I was in school and had days and days with no work/school, with huge spans of time with which to read books, do projects, etc. I know, I'd have to be very disciplined so I just didn't end up sitting around in front of the TV, but I feel annoyed that I just don't have time to read all the books I want, or to do projects on the house, or to paint more. Granted, I don't spend my current free time all that well, so perhaps more isn't the answer, but I might like to try it. The freedom is alluring. But I do know that with freedom comes the responsibility to spend it productively, which has always been a fairly big failing for me. |
yendi
|
10:21a |
Readercon panels
In the past, I've done huge wrap-ups of panels, and I burn out after two or three write-ups. So I'm trying something different. Here's a wrap-up of all the panels I attended, with only a few sentences about each. Got questions (or comments if you were at some of these)? Ask away, and I'll answer. Friday: The Nature of Evil in Horror Fiction: Great panel featuring a number of theories by folks like Clute and Schweitzer. Clute noted the idea of evil as a "vacancy," of morality, as well as in physical spaces (he noted that we were in a hotel, near a mall, on a ring road, all of which symbolize vacancies. Laird Barron noted that evil can't be witnessed without outside context, and that evil usually forms from conflicts of intent (both indicating that those who commit evil rarely recognize themselves as evil). Works cited were numerous, and included Peter Straub, Cormac McCarthy, Faust, Lovecraft, Woody Allen, and more. Chip Delaney, from the audience, suggested that people "do nice things in the world for the same reason that you masturbate," which may be the best rephrasing of Ayn Rand I've ever heard. The Year in Novels. Featuring Paul Witcover, Graham Sleight, Ernest Lilley, Charles Brown, and Shira Lipkin (woohoo!). Lots and lots of talk about great (and not-so-great) works from 2008, with a little bit about 2009. I didn't take extensive notes here, but Brown had a handout that some folks got (I came in late, though). Interfictions 2 Reading. Yet another panel with ![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif) shadesong! Yay! More importantly, every single piece read (and there were excerpts from ten pieces, I think) was awesome. Some were from Interfictions 1, as well. Reminder: You can pre-order the book now! How I Wrote The Orphan’s Tales, by Catherynne Valente. I knew much (but not nearly all) of the backstory here, and yuki_onna is as good a storyteller when telling her own story (or the story behind her books, as it were) as when she writes her novels. How Do We Choose What We Read? This was an ill-defined, but interesting panel featuring Michael Bishop, Pulitzer Prize-winning critic Michael Dirda, and a number of other interesting panelists. Wish I'd had my computer with me to take notes, but there was good discussion of early influences, perception of genre, and other fun stuff. Meet the Pros(e) party. A giant crowded clusterfuck. If you're as introverted as me, you'll hate this with a screaming vengeance. If the room had been twice as big, the idea itself was great, though, giving each pro a sticker sheet with a sentence they've chosen from their own work on it, and the pros giving them out to folks (or trading with each other). And there was cake. Saturday: Notes on the Superhero. The first part of John Clute's paper on the Count of Monte Cristo as a proto-superhero, focusing mainly on the ties to Superman, but with some good Q&A about Batman (with the focus on both of them in their '30s incarnations, not the present day, of course). How I wrote Enclave, by Kit Reed. In this case, it was, essentially, "the life of Kit Reed," as there wasn't quite as much backstory directly relevant to this book. But it was a great panel, and Reed is a nifty speaker and person (and graciously signed my copy of the book). The Killers Inside Us: In many ways a sequel to the Nature of Evil panel. This focused explicitly on psychosis in literature (and in film/tv, by extension). There was some discussion, of course, of whether evil existed, but most of the focus was on the fact that psycopaths are made, bit by bit, and that they offer many, many warning signs, both items overlooked in slashers in general. I also learned that Barry Longyear went to school with Gary Heidnik. Also, at some point, I wrote down the phrase, "the truth of coherence as opposed to the truth of correspondence," on a notecard, quoting someone either in the room or on the panel. I really should have brought a laptop to capture context. Novels of Advocacy vs Novels of Recognition. Another ill-defined panel, but also fun. Lots of discussion of Canadian and US differences in approaching novels, as well as of writers like Heinlein (I was so glad to hear a panelist -- I want to say it was Ken Houghton -- call the end of The Roads Must Roll "Bullshit"). The question of a negative advocacy (did I mention that Paolo Bacigalupi was on the panel) was mentioned, as was the idea that the line between recognition/advocacy doesn't exist. Liz Hand Reading: Liz read from the upcoming novella, "The Maiden Flight of McCauley‘s Bellerophon." It was, not surprisingly, wonderful Kirk Poland Bad Prose Tournament of Champions. I'm not used to seeing Yves not finish in the top two. Some awful, awful stuff. Loved it. At one point, I snarked audibly in reaction to a passage in which the "author" claimed that no one, not even the editor, was reading the book, but only emilytheslayer, I think, heard the name of the publisher at whom I snarked. Sunday: Future of magazines 1: PrintFuture of magazines 2: Online: These panels were back-to-back, and placed in way too small a room (why the hell they weren't in one of the Salon rooms is beyond me). I know that ckd took good notes, so expect actual quotes and stuff from him. As for me, I enjoyed the discussion, got some useful information, found some snarkworthy moments, and had fun. Broad Universe Reading: The second reading I attended featuring shadesong! It was another huge group, but the stuff read was all wonderful, and I want to track much of it down. Children's F&SF Coffeeklatch: This was a coffeeklatch organized by Tui and Kari Sutherland. The former writes YA books, used to edit them, and is one of the four people writing the Warriors series (and lives in Watertown!), and the latter is an editor at Harpercollins. The group consisted of fans and pros, but we all snarked equally at Twilight. Lots of discussions of book packaging groups, cutting-edge stuff, and, of course, Hunger Games :-) I'll post a second post with discussion of the people and social elements of the con later, but I wanted to get this stuff down before I got caught up in work this week. |
yendi
|
8:42a |
Warehouse 13
Recorded it off of Sci-Fi (and yeah, I've go intention of using another name for this network). Caught it on Tivo last week. It's basically Fringe Lite meets Special Unit 2, but that's okay, so far. It's basically a fun sci-fi adventure show, with good cast chemistry, and that's enough to keep me watching for a few weeks to see how it turns out. And Saul Rubinek is wonderful and steals every scene he's in. A few casting items of note: It's got Sarah/Juliet from Season 2 of Slings and Arrows in the lead! (Incidentally, at $30 for all three seasons, there's no excuse for not owning Slings and Arrows, and it's simply one of the best shows ever to air.) And CCH Pounder is, for all intents and purposes, playing Amanda Waller again! Also, two actress who play nuns in the upcoming film Orphan are in this (Pounder and Genelle Williams). |
| Sunday, July 12th, 2009 |
obscurek
|
11:25p |
Seriously? The lyrics are "All of the boys and all of the girls are begging to if you seek Amy" and she can get away with that? Heh... oh how times have changed since the 1980s. So a woman came into the store with numbers written on her arm. Perhaps as if she had just competed in the annual women's triathlon that took place this weekend. Later, another woman came into the store with numbers written on her arm. I suspected a very similar reason for this emblazonment as opposed to perhaps being tracked in the wild for scientific research. Suddenly I realized something! I'm a genius! Women with numbers written on their arms all have attractive bodies! It's amazing! I've put it together and made a discovery! It's... oh... wait a second. I've cleverly concluded that athletic and fit bodies are good looking. Imagine that eh? No one ever noticed that before. I paused to watch some MMA fighting today. First I have to tell you that I hate MMA fighting. When I was younger I liked to watch boxing a little bit, but I even find that hard to watch these days. The whole jump on an opponent and smash their face to bits with elbows and knees thing is pretty much sickening. It's amazing what is popular. It's amazing that we've allowed it to even take place. Anyway, I did pause to watch it tonight because... well it was chicks and one of them was hot. At least at the beginning before she had her face smashed repeatedly. See point about triathlon women and fitness if you want to know the likely reason why she was hot. Her opponent on the other hand was what I want to talk about. The announcer said this tiny little powerhouse of a woman could bench press 300 lbs. That's bullshit right? I can easily accept that the woman was stronger than me even though she was a tiny little thing. She was probably just one big muscle. Still... I couldn't possibly come close to lifting 300 lbs with my legs. You would have to be a monster to do it with your arms wouldn't you? Of course, I don't bench press anything. I'm going to buy a bench next though! Then my home gym will be complete enough that I can focus my future savings on different goals! (Assuming I have future savings. I don't really have a clue what I'm doing in the rather disturbingly near future.) Currently that goal is dental travel. I read that you could go to like Mexico or Costa Rica and get affordable cosmetic dentistry. Lately Mexico seems like a bad choice for travel of any sort, so Costa Rica it is. I don't need to have my teeth perfectly straightened or anything, but every time I get my teeth cleaned here in Canada the hygienist tells me they can't get the fifteen years of cigarette stains off during a normal cleaning and I can't afford cosmetic dentistry in the first world. I'd love to have shiny white teeth instead of dingy with some brown spots just like everyone else would. ... and does here in the land of big energy total dental benefits. And finally, women with numbers written on their arms are probably too young for me. Even if they aren't. Later Mr. LJ. |
mandy_moon
|
9:10p |
Today I went clothes shopping- clothes shopping often makes me feel drained and vaguely wistful- wistful because I know that people of my gender are supposed to have a flock of lady friends to go clothes shopping with and this is supposed to be an enjoyable thing to do. But for me I want to be finished with clothes shopping as soon as possible, I only enjoy *finding* the clothes so I can leave rather than enjoying the process of shopping. Most of the times I've gone clothes shopping with a friend, I get impatient because it takes much longer and I get bored. And whether or not I'm with a friend, not finding anything I like or can afford during a clothes shopping excursion makes me feel defeated and as if I've wasted a lot of time. Sometimes I can be fun while doing other things, but don't go clothes shopping with me- I'm a real stick in the mud. However, there is one part of clothes shopping that I really enjoy- the mannequins. I love mannequins or most any automatons. I love anything that is the same size and has roughly the same form as a human, but is not alive and not a human. The last time I went clothes shopping at the Cambridge side Galleria I found this at Macy's:  I wasn't the one who pants-ed her, but I wish I was. Also odd that somebody bothered to put shoes on her but neglected her pants. That day in Chile when Jon and I still had no luggage and had been wearing the same clothes for three days we finally ended up going to the mall for clothes and found these:  Since they're naked they're obviously not showcasing any of the clothes at their store and so they must be trying to sell bagpipes to the Chilean teenagers. I wish I had plaid skin. I liked her, the happiest mannequin in all Greece-  I've heard that the Thai mannequins have the same expression as she does. I think it's commendable! Why do people in the US think that mannequins have to look so ticked off all the time, anyway? I've been searching on craigslist and eBay for many months now, off and on, for a mannequin of my very own, but I haven't had much luck because so many mannequins seem so standoffish and resemble the sort of girls I would never be friends with. If I'm going to adopt a mannequin, she needs to look like she and I could be compatible. Today at Macy's, while clothes shopping and hoping I would be done with it soon, I found these mannequins-  I would never buy one of these- they have no heads! Not only that, but there's something else wrong with their basic anatomy. They look like the Padaung Hill Tribe women visiting a western shopping mall for the first time after their brass neck coils have been removed. Though maybe these wouldn't be such a bad choice for me. I could make heads for them! I could make them as friendly and approachable as I wanted to! Or if I was feeling lazy, I could just take the giant eyeball Residents heads I made for Jon and myself for Halloween. How lucky would I be to have my own Residents mannequins? To cheer myself up after clothes shopping, we went to the zoo. Today was the day that they were unveiling some shaggy French mammoth donkeys, which I hear are >800 lbs and aren't terribly amenable to moving out of their shipping carts and will be jackasses about it for hours on end. Nevertheless, they were very friendly to us, the zoo visitors. What I never noticed about the zoo before was that at some point somebody decided it would be fun to pepper a series of CLUES all over the zoo. I love finding clues! My favorite clue was this one- look in the tree:  I thought this was a surprisingly macabre clue for a family zoo and I fully approved. Using this clue, you were supposed to deduce that a leopard had dragged his prey up into a tree to keep it away from competitors. |
shoutingboy
|
6:33p |
|
thistle_chaser
|
5:50p |
WoW update!
I'm still chugging along in WoW. I'm not sure what this says about the game, but it's really working for me because not only can I ignore it for days at a time, but if I only have a half-hour or hour, I can still jump on and get things done. Today I accomplished a goal that made me very much not miss FFXI: I soloed skilling four weapons and my defense to max level. Soloed. What a pain in the ass skilling was in FFXI! Most jobs needed a tank and a healer, plus something like a bard would really help, all just to skill up. I did great axe, sword, bow, and gun all to 400, and got defense to 400 in the process, all solo and made a lot of money while doing so. (Plus I'm up to 20 stacks of chilled meat for cooking dailies!) I forgot to get a screenshot of it, but I did get the achievement of getting four weapons to 400. I think I'll do the bare handed to 400 one next.  I do wish crafting was more challenging though (and that it wasn't tied to your job-level, grrr). My druid keeps getting stuck because I hate XPing so he can't advance his crafting. Blah. This was an odd bug I encountered while skilling great axe: I did what? o.O I have to say, I love goldsellers on WoW. Look how creative they are! They spelled out their website out of dead bodies! There must have been nearly a hundred dead goldsellers in that! I also love snow in WoW, so peaceful! And rain, too. I could just sit around and happily watch it! I also love Northrend! I hate XPing, but I really, really want to get my druid high enough to XP there so I can visit the areas again. I have a new gun! And apparently I'm very excited about it!  naikitty made it for me! I don't remember this scene from Dances with Wolves...  And lastly, I love druid! Look, I'm a dancing bear! And an evil (yet handy) fanged sealion thing! And my favorite of all: pretty kitty! My mount might be slightly faster than my travel form, but I run around as it all the time. It looks cool, kodos suck big lizard ass. I do miss FFXI, sometimes a lot, but that's only until I remember how many hoops you had to jump through for the smallest things. I miss decorating my moghouse and chatting with people, but the idea of putting myself back into a situation where you basically can't do anything without the help of others... no thanks. I do miss chatting with folks though! :) Current Mood:  okay |
bryant
|
7:00p |
Cats
Love me, love my cat videos. Possibly this new iPhone thing has some downsides in terms of how easy it is to be annoying but LOOK CUTE! |
zoethe
|
6:02p |
Scream
New neighbor doing loads of yard work. Yay for good neighbor, not so great for sound sensitive me. Posted via LiveJournal.app. |
sythyry
|
4:58p |
Negotiations [20 Hispis 4385]
Me:"Well ... which profession do you need particularly? Healing?
Sewing? Smithwork?"
Aiziju:"Enchantment, of course."
Me:"Oh, that profession."
Aiziju:"Have you abandoned the teachings of your master so
quickly?"
(Aiziju is under the misconception that I was ever Glikkonen's student.
Reasonable enough, since we met at a celebration of Glikkonen's 4300'd
birthday and nearly everyone there was a former student of Glikkonen.
(I would have studied with zir, but zie never wanted to live in
Vheshrame for very long, and I couldn't leave the city for very long.) Aiziju
was slightly out of place, having been Glikkonen's wizard's assistant for most
of a century herself. The terms of their parting were not excellent, though I
do not know the details.)
Me:"No; I've just been doing a great deal of craft enchanting
lately."
Aiziju:"Well, we can discuss the techniques later, if you think
it advisable."
Me:"With all due respect, Phaniet -- the Cani holding hands with
the Rassimel over there -- is a perfectly fine wizard's assistant to
me."
Aiziju:"I don't mean to criticize your assistant in the slightest
... actually, a warning: she might not want to be quite so affectionate
with another species in public here ... but if we might have a bit of
privacy?"
Me:"Well, of course. Private from Phaniet?"
Aiziju:"Not at all, if she is your assistant! This is a matter of
enchantment, after all."
So, rather later, in the parlor with the suicidal couch:
Aiziju:"Would you like to know the circumstances behind our
request, or simply the request itself?"
Me:"My dear Aiziju, we are here as tourists!"
Aiziju:"Forgive me -- for all my time working for Glikkonen, I
did not quite master the Zi Ri idiom."
Me:"We are here to experience the branch. Knowing the
circumstances is part of the joy of travelling."
Aiziju:"Well, perhaps you may think that Srineia is recently
colonized. By some measures, such as the history of Vheshrame or the life
of a Zi Ri, it is." (I wonder if she has me partially confused with
Sazandigraa.) "But in its own terms, it is not. The firstborn children
here are dead of old age. The cities are mature and starting to get
powerful. The monsters are being beaten back to the Verticals. In all
ways, Srineia is civilized."
Me:"So we had heard! Indeed, this was part of its interest and
appeal."
Aiziju:"In particular, some fine points that the first settlers
left unsettled are becoming more relevant. The precise boundary between
Eigrach Mene and Heleshario Mene -- is it still partially demarcated by
the line from the town of Jungus to the top of the Zonsmi Oak?"
Me:"A topic that is surely a matter of great concern for people
living near Jungus, to say nothing of the family of sparrows nesting atop
the Zonsmi Oak. And, at a guess, even more so to any number of lawyers
and nobles in Eigrach and Heleshario?"
Aiziju:"Well, I doubt that a single bird comes close to the
Zonsmi Oak. You should go see it, from a safe distance. But you are right
about the lawyers and nobles. The discussion employed a great number of
them for, oh, twenty or thirty years."
Phaniet:"But no more?"
Aiziju:"But no more. The Zonsmi Oak has taken upon itself to
wander another mile and a half, generally towards Heleshario."
Me:"Oh, inconstant oak!"
Phaniet:"What sort of an oak tree is it?"
Aiziju:"I should not describe it as an oak tree at all, though
the resemblance is clear enough. In any case, what is the
border now? The line from the town of Jungus to the Zonsmi Oak? Or to
the Zonsmi Oak's previous position? And, if so, which one -- the one of
last year, before its current fit of wanderlust, or the one of seven years
ago? Or perhaps the original one from the first days of colonization,
when the agreement was made -- if we can figure out where that
was?"
Me:"Lenhirrik, the goddess of plants, must love the lawyers of
Srineia, so well does she prosper them."
Aiziju:"When the Zonsmi Oak wanders a few hundred feet at a time,
I agree with you. The current change is too drastic for lawyers; it is
several square miles of territory. Our noble and subtle mayor Mmixamk
wishes to declare war over the matter, following the customs of civilized
lands."
Me:"Forgive me, but are you quite sure that Eigrach is in the
right in this matter? An impartial observer might observe that the
boundary has moved considerably in Eigrach's favor, without particular
compensation to Heleshario."
Aiziju:"Oh, the justice of the situation is clear
enough. We are trying to grab a chunk of wild and debatable lands, no
question. If the Oak had wandered the other way, we'd be just as vehement
about the prior boundary. Nobody but that idiot Harulse thinks
we're in the right."
Phaniet:"Harulse is the idiot?"
Aiziju:"Don't let the mayor's speech problem fool you. He's
quite smart, and you can tell that if he's got pen and paper. Harulse is
a complete and utter idiot."
Phaniet:"Ah. So, about the war? What sort of war did you have
in mind?"
Aiziju:"Just a simple little duel-war: a few heroes from one
side, a few from the other."
(We've had more vicious wars than that in Ketheria over a few square miles of
land. Bear in mind that few countries are bigger than fifty miles by fifty
miles, so five square miles, say, is a significant slice of land indeed.)
Me:"I do hope you're not inviting me to be one of your
champions. I am not much of a brawny mercenary warrior!"
Aiziju:"We do not lack for suitable and enthusiastic heroes! But
we are a bit low on armaments. Our greatest warrior uses a one-charge
Shattering Sword, and another uses a Mountain Mace, can you believe
it? And the warriors of Heleshario know the command word for the
Shattering Sword, so it wouldn't be much good."
(Shattering Swords try to, um, shatter things that they hit, when a command
word is spoken. If your foe knows the word, she can make you waste the
sword's single charge for the day on something useless. Mountain Maces are
nice clubs: they are light most of the time, but become quite heavy when swung
downwards. In skilled hands -- or tentacles, more likely -- they are somewhat
deadlier than a metal mace. Neither of these is a particularly imposing
magical weapon.)
Phaniet:"Those are both recipe enchantments. Is Srineia lacking
in Great Enchanters?"
Aiziju:"Not completely lacking -- I do some -- but our
specialists are few and not quite up to Glikkonen's standards."
Me:"I, too, am not up to Glikkonen's standards. Ask me again in
four thousand years, and I may be up to zir standards of to-day."
My voice had a harsh edge to it, which Aiziju understood immediately.
Aiziju:"Oh, heavens, we're not asking you to make Holocaust War
weapons! We'd rather give up the whole Zonsmi Triangle than have anything
more serious than a duel-war here. We don't want to burn the branch off,
great staring gods!"
Me:"So you wish to have some more conventional weapons? Simply
of higher quality than the quotidian efforts of the local recipe
enchanters?"
Aiziju:"Exactly."
Me:"May I ask an impertinent question?"
Aiziju:"Well, of course..."
Me:"What is the relationship of Eigrach and Dossimar?"
Aiziju:"Not very good, I'm afraid. We have had rather less
contact with the upper branches since Dossimar raised their tolls, then
raised them again. Actually, there have been some rather extreme rumors
about Dossimar in the last month or two." She hesitated, so Phaniet
and I stared at her. "Well, an accusation that their navy took two
skyboats passing through."
Me:"I should believe that. They had raised our toll to thirty
thousand lozens plus a rape, and they didn't seem done with raising
it."
Aiziju:"Oh, my. What happened then?"
Me: «A somewhat carefully edited and phrased version of the
history from previous entries. »
Aiziju:"That is not utterly out of keeping with the wilder
rumors."
Me:"So: I would be glad to exchange some enchanted weapons for
the labor of carpenters and shipwrights. But I should not be so glad if
the weapons were to be used in the style of Dossimar."
Aiziju:"I am certain that some such exchange can be made. And
we scorn piracy, murder, and rape, as do all decent people. I,
who was born in Ketheria, would hardly be living here if it were a violent
or vicious place!"
Me:"Excellent. Phaniet, and Zascalle my accountant, perhaps
would be better than I for discussing the detailed arrangements for
payment and repairs?"
Aiziju:"And I'm sure that their counterparts in the city would be
delighted to discuss matters with them. You and I should discuss the
specifics of the weapons, of course."
The Doom
No doom this time! That's allowed, isn't it?
Poll #1428816
Open to: All, detailed results viewable to: AllYour favorite enchanted weapon is: What do you mean by "other"? And what sort of enchantment do you like on it? What do you mean by "other" this time? And what do you use it for? Oh, my. What do you mean by "other" this time? And how do you like it decorated? Bearing in mind that each item of
decoration will cost you suitably lots. And your custom decoration is... And how would m'lord like to pay for this? What novel payment scheme will you arrange? |
zoethe
|
3:39p |
Doing my own meme
I'm at that point in migraine treatment that the megs don't have me completely knocked out, but their effectiveness is just beginning to decay. This is when things like going to the bathroom, putting some protein in my body, and sitting up are possible, and Ferrett pointed out the meme I apparently started. So let me write, eyes c;psed, about migraine. The thing that loads of [eople do not understand about migraine is that the headache itself is unpleasant for byt almost tolerable. he rest of the stuff going on in the bodu is what makes it so crippling, Chages in light, souns, even iar pressure cause spkes of pain and severe nausea, yoour eyes burn and ache, and frequently there is an ocular component that some people percieve and snapping sparks and other as rippling vision,. For me it's ripples, and the whole world can look like I'm viewing it from under water. For me, also, once the ripply part is gone, I can read for brief periods, but onl acutal paper, not my computer or my iPjone. This makes the tedium of the ;uning in dark room very still less horrible, partioularly since reading a few pages exhauss me and I am able to fall back to sleep. I am liucky only to edperience the fullblown version of this ell once every couple years. Fpr thpse who suffer refularly, mt heart foes out to you. Now I have exhausted my ability to be out of bed. More drugs, more sleep. I hope this ends by morning. |
flemco
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2:03p |
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theferrett
|
1:00p |
A Meme SStarted By My Wife
Your task: TO write an entirely journal entry, touch-typing blind. You are not allowed to go back and correct anything you ty[e once you'veseen it live. Gini tried this when she had a migraine and couldn't see the screen, so I' was curiosus to see how I did. So close your eyes and get typin'! Or not. Really, it is kindas sislly. Oh, Christ, how'd I do? (EDIT: Okay, I guess it could just be a comment. Still. It's an odd skill to have, really it is.) (EDT TOTHE EDIT: Yes, I'm typing all the edits with my eyes closed as well.) |
theferrett
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10:30a |
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yendi
|
7:39a |
Each day, something changes
I griped that the Mets traded Church while I was at Readercon on Friday. Now, it turns out that Pandemonium bought out Your Move Games while I was at the con yesterday. Sheesh. (And no, they didn't buy them just yesterday, but it's when the news hit.) Still not really reading email or stuff. Off to day 3 of Readercon in a little over an hour. Con has been fun, as much for the people as the panels, but the panels are good, too. And I've finally eaten at the legendary Korean BBQ place! |
| Saturday, July 11th, 2009 |
chipuni
|
10:40p |
ATTENTION WEBCOMICS ARTISTS...
This information comes from shaenon, the web comic writer/artist behind Skin Horse, Smithson, and Narbonic, and the editor behind Modern Tales:
The Cartoon Art Museum of San Francisco (www.cartoonart.org) is organizing "Monsters of Webcomics," a showcase of cutting-edge webcomics work. The show's ten spotlight artists have already been selected. However, the museum also wants to include a virtual gallery of as many other webcomics as possible. If you're interested in having your art included in the virtual gallery, email curator Andrew Farago at gallery@cartoonart.org.
Feel free to spread this information around the webcomics community. The museum wants a wide range of comics included in the show.
Here's the press release:
Monsters of Webcomics
August 8 - December 6, 2009
The Internet has revolutionized all forms of communication, and comics are no exception. The Cartoon Art Museum explores the digital revolution in its latest exhibition, Monsters of Webcomics, a showcase of some of the best and boldest work published on the World Wide Web.
Cartoonists choose to work on the Web for many reasons. For some, it’s an opportunity to reach readers directly without going through editors, publishers, or syndicates. For others, it’s a chance to explore the artistic possibilities of the Web, whether that means working in a format that would be impossible in print, tackling subject matter most comic-book publishers won’t handle, or taking advantage of the rich palette available with digital coloring. Others simply want to share their comics with as many people as possible.
The comics by the ten artists featured in this exhibition run the gamut from four-panel comic strips to full-length graphic novels and include comedy, drama, history, science fiction, and sociopolitical commentary. As varied as this work is, however, it represents only a very small sample of the comics available on the Web. The Monsters of Webcomics exhibition also includes a virtual gallery that will highlight dozens of additional online comics.
|
| Sunday, July 12th, 2009 |
sythyry
|
12:06a |
Welcoming Committee [20 Hispis 4385]
Having sent a useful and polite letter to the government and aristocracy of
Eigrach, it would be impolite to simply wander around Eigrach on our own. So
we waited from morning until late afternoon. Probably greeting foreigners was
not anyone's most important job, in Eigrach. It certainly wouldn't be in
Vheshrame. We dressed in our finest and most formal clothes, and waited.
The sun was more than halfway out [accurately placing the time at somewhere
between nine minutes and nine hours after noon; Sythyry is being intentionally
vague here. -bb] when a smallish and haphazardish procession passed by the
wicker bordello, out the gate in Eigrach's unimpressive wall. When our
Extremely Assistantful Lookout (Quendry) noticed them and sounded the alarm,
we descended a staircase and formed our own medium-sized-ish and haphazardish
procession to meet them.
The Herald Harulse
was a tall Herethroy woman, brilliant green of shell, with
spark-twinkles tied to her antennae and a sort of caftan of alternating
stripes of purple and shell-matching green. She carried a staff covered with
bells in two hands, and a large bullhorn in the other two.
The Mayor Mmixamk was a pure-black Cani man wearing formal purple robes
and black ribbons that would not have been out of place on a minor official --
a baliff, say, or a minister's secretary -- of the Duke of Vheshrame's court
when I was young. If he came there today, he'd look like a clown. Still, he
wore the ceremonial diamond-and-copper tiara of mayoriality.
The Sorceress Aiziju was a brick-and-white Rassimel woman with tight
stripes on her fur. She was the only one who had not dressed formally for the
event; she was wearing a stained ex-white tunic and a pair of quite revealing
shorts. She is 378 years old last 17 Oix, and looks at least twice that.
She is the only person on Srineia that I have met before.
The Others were a half-dozen assorted notables of assorted species
whose names and ranks I would have to ask Kantele to tell me.
Harulse:"Bow, bow, bow and become mitescent, ye foreigners and
dwellers in pessundated lands! Now approaching you in all dignity and
honor is the grand and unequalled Mayor of Eigrach!" She was using
her ceremonial bullhorn; it was not needed from ten feet off.
We bowed, because that's good manners. Aiziju winked.
Harulse:"Now, by the amorevulous command of the great Mayor
Mmixamk, you-huh-dono are permitted to rise, to stand up straight and
erect for the first time upon the noble soil of Eigrach Mene!"
So we did that too.
Mmixamk:"Ah, yes, quite a pleasure, quite, welcome to Eigrach and
all that, it's definitely, promoting tourism, distinguished, very much so,
highly, Ketheria, extraordinary. Lenkasia, was it?"
Kantele:"We are pleased to present the Ambassador from Vheshrame,
and the credentials thereof, to the most lordly and supreme Mayor of
Eigrach!" She held the parchment out to the Mayor.
Mmixamk:"Oh, Vheshrame, Vheshrame, that's the place, wonderful,
so happy, not very many, but plenty, don't you know?"
Harulse:"The great Mayor of Eigrach deigns to accept the embassy
of the noble city of Vheshrame to the noble city of Eigrach!"
All of the attendants cheered, so we all cheered too.
The formalities continued similarly for two very long minutes.
Mmixamk:"Welcome, happiness, prosperity, all of that stuff, lots
of things, it's about time, don't you know?"
Harulse:"The Ceremony of Bewelcoming is Concluded. Our Visitors
from Afar are officially permitted to place one foot and then another upon
the soil of Mother Eigrach, and, from doing so, to perambulate this way
and that all through our noble country! By which it is to be understood
that visitors from Vheshrame are forever to be welcome in the noble
country of Eigrach!"
Kantele:"Wonderful! Would you-nob care to partake of a modest
repast of traditional Vheshrame delicacies?"
Mmixamk:"Oh, quite important, any time now!"
Harulse:"The noble Mayor of Eigrach respectfully declines your
invitation, but wishes to invite you to a modest repast three days hence
at the Mayoral Palace."
Me:"We are delighted to accept."
And, so saying, the Mayor and two of the attendants wandered back to the city,
and the rest stayed and chatted as several liveried wrongfolk set up folding
tables and chairs on the lawn. They brought forth some of our traditional
delicacies: poptaloops, skewered chub beetles with chili cream, skewered mice
in the style of Mrasteia (which have over the last century become a staple
served at every restaurant in Vheshrame), and this and that and the other.
Nobles and wrongfolk partook, and chatted, and it was reasonably friendly.
Aiziju:"Ah, Sythyry. I-hero am glad you've come. And I do hope
you're here in a professional as well as a personal capacity."
Me:"Well ... which profession do you need particularly?" |
| Saturday, July 11th, 2009 |
obscurek
|
11:55p |
Although we didn't sell nearly as many ice cream cones tonight during the parade as last weekend (it isn't Scottish Festival, and it's still bloody freaking cold like April), I had to actually ice my wrist when I got home. I have ice cream scooper's wristinitis! I think I need to buy one of those guards professional bowlers wear. In my wildest, and obviously most exciting, fantasies, I always thought I could've been a professional bowler actually. I sold all my bubbles. Good thing. They're only good for one day before they get too chewy. Later Mr. LJ. |
flemco
|
5:10p |
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flemco
|
3:28p |
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sythyry
|
4:25p |
The Etiquette of Primes [20 Hispis 4385]
Monsters may teleport in on each other unannounced, the way Shadatei just did.
People do not. So, we landed Strayway by Eigrach's trunkward gate, and
Kantele wrote a letter. It went something like this.
[Occasional status markers will be written to show that speech is in Srineian,
or where they are relevant for the story. In most cases they will be omitted.
-bb]
From the wizard Sythyry to the mayor and nobility of Eigrach, greetings. I-nob
have arrived in Eigrach Mene some weeks earlier than I had expected. I should
be grateful of an opportunity to present my credential as ambassador and
enchanter at your convenience. With great respect, Sythyry.
I am technically an ambassador of Vheshrame. I am not the ambassador
to Eigrach of course. I am the ambassador to Vae. Nor does
Vheshrame have any real need of an embassy in Srineia. But there is no reason
to be rude. So I have an official scroll from the Duke promising eternal
friendship with Eigrach. Puffery through and through, of course -- I believe
that Oorah Thrassen has a dozen such scrolls -- but a very polite sort of
puffery.
So Kantele hired a porter to take the message to the mayoral mansion.
"What does Eigrach look like?" asked Lithia.
"It's all woven," said Kantele. "I've seen chairs and baskets like that, but
never whole houses."
"It comes by the name 'Wicker City' honestly," said Jyondre.
"Well, they do quite impressive-looking things with it. Every house by the
gate has two or three spires or onion-dome or a grand spiral balcony at the
very least. Sometimes the onion domes are on sideways. There's one building
that has got to be a brothel; I can't see any other excuse for the
number and arrangement of sideways onion domes," said Kantele.
Jyondre grinned sadly. "Oh, that would be the Ord Bord. It's famous. My
parents sent me there for three days once."
"Is that a usual sort of treat on Srineia?"
"Hardly that. They had found me with my first reciprocated crush, and they
wanted to be sure that I would never have such a crush again. Some parents
might have beaten me, and some might have scolded me. Mine were enlightened.
They sent me to Ord Bord for three days with a purchase order for all the
Orren I could screw, and hoped that the experience would teach me never to
lust after Herethroy again."
Yerenthax chuckled. "And...?"
Jyondre grinned. "It worked! I have never lusted after Herethroy again. Now
I devote myself wholly to Gormoror."
Yerenthax smirked. "Your parents will be happy, I take it?"
Jyondre shook his head. "I somehow doubt it."
Lithia raised her illusionarily-Orren head from Lost-Eyes' shoulder. "Will
you win another trip to the brothel from it?"
Yerenthax declaimed, "From fearsome flirts, and fuck-for-fee / we both shall
fly, my love and me!"
Lithia threw a pillow at her.
|
theferrett
|
10:38a |
Man vs. Wild Weasel
Watching Man vs. Wild leaves me continually flabbergasted. Because they drop Bear Grylls into some Godforsaken wilderness with nothing more than a knife, and he uses that knife to make whatever he needs. He makes a little tent out of evergreen twigs. He makes an impromptu coat out of a dead deer. He makes a rotisserie for his fish to cook on. And then, when he's done, he just leaves them there. Every time, as he walks away, I'm like, "You built that! Take it with you! You might need it - and don't you want a souvenir of this time here?" But no; Bear walks away without a care, leaving the thing he made behind. I cannot understand that. I come from a family of hoarders. When we finally moved my Grammy and Grampop out of their house to bring them to the nursing home, it took three large dumpsters to clear the detritus. I remember clearing out old business correspondence from the attic with my cousin ("Dec 6th, 1952: This is to confirm I have to received your letter") and saying to her, "Well, they kept everything but the kitchen sink." And then, not ten minutes later, discovering two kitchen sinks in a back closet. One had a hole in it. But it might have been useful later on, you know. You could have patched that up. So when Bear just walks away from that ladder he lashed together from twigs and vines, leaving it behind as if it's nothing more than a pile of twigs and vines, I'm aghast. "Don't you want that?" I cry. "You never know when you'll need a broken ladder!" And inexplicably, I feel sorry for the ladder. Bear made it, he gifted it with life, and now this poor ladder is sitting in the wilderness, never to be useful again. Never mind that it was never useful in the first place - it broke before he could climb across the river to the cave - but Bear never gave it a second chance, man. I imagine the ladder feels pretty terrible about that. Then I wonder whether this is some bizarre function of human nature. I didn't grow up in the wilderness; I had the suburbs, where the only living nonhuman creatures were dogs and squirrels and little brown birds, and that was pretty much it. Do we have some innate instinct to look for life around us? In my vaccuum of wildlife, did I map a form of low-grade sentience onto my books (who wanted to be read) and my stools (who meant to bark my shin) and my videogames (who felt left out when I didn't play with them) just because my lizard brain couldn't comprehend the vaccuum of life surrounding me? Or is that my hoarder family instinct giving me an excuse - the world itself wants to be with me! I can't just leave it behind! Bear Grylls doesn't care. The man has no trinkets, no nostalgia, no additional weight; when it's done, he moves on, leaving a trail of Stuff that instantly decays into detritus. I admire it, even as I can't understand it. |
yendi
|
8:39a |
Um, what?
I come back from a day at Readercon to find that we traded Church for Francouer? Seriously? You're welcome, Atlanta. Off to Readercon again in twenty minutes. Maybe I'll come back to find that we've traded Santana to the Phillies for a cotton candy machine. |
flemco
|
3:41a |
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