They played "Ohne Dich" and it was quite nice, but I'm afraid Laibach did to that song what Johnny Cash did to "Hurt." They'll never top that cover.
That's another concert off my life list. Having seen Leonard Cohen and Concrete Blonde, and given up on Siouxsie or the Creatures, the list is getting short. It would be nice to see Laibach. The rest would need a time machine.
* Not unlike many members of the band.**
** But Till, honey, the reason you can't get laid in Germany is because German women understand your lyrics.
- Mood:
tired
And look who's on eBay!
I'd really appreciate any signal boosting you wanted to do for this one.
I did decide to curl her hair! The uneven and kind of messy look is all right, I think, in the context of a wild rose pony. I am not 100% sure I prefer it to the straight hair, but I'm leaving it as it is. If the person who winds up with her reeeally wants to straighten it, they can do so, and I'll tell them how (not responsible for results, but it shouldn't hurt her).
( You SO need to see all of these pics. )
The silver around her eyes is so pretty.
So, I learned a lot from her, and I look forward to putting all that learning into play on my next pony.
And, again, because clearly I haven't linked it enough, eBay! Yes, bidding is starting high. There's actually fifteen dollars' worth of hair there all by itself. Not to mention the OMG hours of work. So bid freely!
Questions? Ask 'em!
X-posted from Dreamwidth. Comment count:
- Location:Ponyville
- Mood:
accomplished - Music:Goldfrapp -- Tiptoe
The chrysanthemums are already blooming.
OK, the gardeners here will know that's weird for early May. My irises are already shot, and the Texas Lilacs (vitex) are setting blooms now rather than in August. That means the rest of the summer will be mostly bloom-free. I understand why the plants are doing this, but it does freak me out.
______________
Allergies and lack of Diet Coke are also taking a toll. Because of the humidity this year, mold is way up....and that's the primary thing that triggers my allergies. Since I've been working on cutting it back to NO MORE than 1 Diet Coke per day, my caffeine balance has been off. Between the allergies, hormones, and caffeine troubles, I'm having sinus headaches. Not congestion (so don't bother to suggest a neti pot), but swelling. I try not to overdo the sudafed, but it's been necessary...
______________
I've been re-reading Dreaming Death, as I'm contemplating whether to re-write it or not. So I'm not getting wordcount.
Shironne is fun to write. I really do hope I sell this novel one day. ;o)
- Mood:
blah
In fact, one of his favorite series was the DEAR DUMB DIARY books which are about a girl, Jamie, who has a whole lot of boy trouble in middle school. Those books are also really hillarious and written, interestingly, by a man.
The one area in which his reading tastes run more "boy" is when it comes down to a preferrence between Nancy Drew or the Hardy Boys. We have far more Hardy Boys in the house than Nancy Drew, but, I have a feeling that once he's torn through all those Hardy Boys, Nancy will look a lot more interesting. :-)
I'm not sure what I'm trying to say about this except that I think it's amazingly damaging to keep insisting that boys need boy heros. I'm all for more girl-power books (and if this belief is the only thing fueling all those books, well then I'll put up with it,) but I think that boys will read those too, if given a chance. Certainly my boy will. If the story is good, he's there.
When I mentioned this on Facebook my friend and middle-grade writer Kurtis Scaletta suggested that boys will read books about friendships and romance "in SECRET." I told him that I hope that the e-reader can do for young boys what it's done for erotica and the middle-aged woman, which is to say, make reading whatever the hell they like less "shameful" since no one can judge the e-reader by its cover, as it were.
Every year, my boyfriend wants the same thing for his birthday, and last year it was such a flop I feel compelled to make it a success this year!
He wants all his friends, and friends of friends, to make Seamus Day signs and post photos of themselves marching on the sidewalk or the street on May 25, 2012. It’s like performance art in which we all collaborate to make a fake parade, ignoring the constraints of space and time!
All it takes is a sign, a camera, and three to five minutes of point-and-shoot. The sign can say anything from Happy Birthday to Seamus Day or something of your choice. (I’d like to see Free Seamus or Save the Seamus, myself, haha. I’d also like to see costumes, but obviously anything goes!)
If you decide to participate, post the photo and link to it in the comments, or just e-mail it to me at seamus day parade at plunderpuss dot net and I’ll put it up here.
My contribution this year was a little overboard and slightly illegal, but not illegal enough to keep me from doing it:
I walked six miles in just over two hours to put all of these up, because I'm crazy and in looove.
Here’s the flyer (with a date):( Read the rest of this entry » )
Originally published at Calamity Cove. You can comment here or there.
Thanx to
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andrewduckerNow, Art Deco is One Of My Things. And city architecture is One of My (milder) Things. So it wasn't a night of mind-blowing revelations. What it was, though, was glorious and informative fun, mainly because Barry Lewis is a damnfine tour guide, with the right balance of information, enthusiasm, and humor. And some photos other folk just don't have access to.
If you get a chance to listen to him talk, or catch his "walking tour" shows rerun on PBS, do so. He can crack open your mind and slide stuff in, and you don't even realize it (or you do, but you're too busy thinking "oh, that connects to this, and explains that...!" to realize you're, y'know, learning.)
(also: the restaurant at the NYHS is really quite nice. Excellent pastas, even if the wine list is noticeably overpriced)
Light mist for the newspaper walk, air temperature 54 F, dew point 53, wind south at about 7 mph. I did manage to get the lawn mowed yesterday, in a brief interlude of dry. Lawn entropy has been contained and beaten back.
White "Dig Safe" limits have appeared on the ground up at that water leak. Now the other utilities can stake their claims, which likely means no work until after the long weekend. Progress, none the less.
And in other Progress, Al has finally told me what work he did for the Rhine Maidens, back when they stiffed him for his fee. Surprise to me, too.
“Unbelieving Jaxx” is one of the longer pieces in the anthology, a twisting, turning tale of an alternate world of steam tech and powerful magic written very much in the style of Victorian speculative literature. I am quite pleased to present it here.
“Unbelieving Jaxx” originally appeared serialized in Steampunk Tales issues #6, #7, and #8
Sky-Tinted Waters is available from Sam's Dot Publishing.
I got through the reread/edit of the new NCM chapters today, only had to fiddle with a few things and then I was happy with them. Then I started with the older stuff–the previous chapter 1 which is now chapter 5–and as you can imagine, I had to take a pretty heavy hand there. Lots needed cutting, as this was no longer the place where I was introducing the character and the situation and the world. I hope and expect that will lessen as I go along…
And, here are a few more pics from last week, courtesy of my stepdad, the photographer:
Stepdad and Mom on the observation deck at the Space Needle. Yes, he’s holding his arm out and taking this picture.
Mom and markferrari and me on the ferry to Bainbridge Island.
A cool shot down one of the aisles at the aquarium store.
Originally published at Shannon Page: Author. You can comment here or there.
- Location:Witchnest Manor
- Mood:
busy
Mirrored from Marsha Sisolak.
I got my latest evaluation, and my principal sang my praises as if there were no tomorrow. I adapt for each child, I have super classroom management, I’m well respected by my peers and throughout the district, I’m an asset to the school, blah, blah, blah.
Yeah, yeah, and I walk on water. Moving on.
Cut to the staff meeting after school.
Whereupon he says that if we are selected to move to another site (one school is being completely restructured) it is not because we are not good at what we do, but because we ARE very good at what we do.
Can you read between those lines?
I have been in my classroom for twenty-two years. Imagine how much stuff I’ve accumulated. Double it.
I won’t know until Wednesday.
I do believe I’ll be relying on alcohol to get me through the next few days.
Commute mentor water-captures story taste.
Reasons, sleep-deprived, imagine strikes.
Intensity, storm, galactic discount, hacked
forever--bullet hands out evening wonders.
We lost choice.
----
Coincidentally, the day after the paperback release, the series got nominated for a Mythopoeic Award for YA Literature alongside talented people like Tamora Pierce and Maggie Steifvater and Delia Sherman and Cat Valente. So I went shopping and bought myself two "award rewards":
HEADBAND OF SPARKLING DOOM:
Here, have a terrible washed out cameraphone pic of me wearing said headband:
And CHUNKY PLASTIC BRACELET OF AWESOME:
*majestic wave of my hand pictured above* AS YOU WERE.
I stopped off to visit Anubis on my way to catch the bus home.
Posted via LiveJournal app for iPhone.
Originally published at tansyrr.com. You can comment here or there.
Greg Rucka, like Joss Whedon before him, reveals how he writes female characters that don’t suck, in a medium that has a tendency to treat female characters badly.
This one is separate to an earlier interview with Rucka, reported on by DC Women Kicking Ass, in which he complained about the poor treatment of female superheroes by Hollywood and the comic book world.
Tor.com talks about the evolution of female superheroes in movies, and how they’re finally getting it a bit right with Black Widow and Catwoman.
Cassandra Clare talks about rape myths and why there isn’t one ‘right’ way for a fictional character to deal with sexual assault, just like in real life.
Ben Peek on the appalling “celebrity rehabilitation” of notorious political racist Pauline Hanson through Australian commercial television, and how she’s still being allowed wide media coverage of her white supremacist views.
The trying out a silly pose edition!
Now that I have a dayjob, long weekends MEAN SOMETHING, oh yes. Sleeping in!
Posted via LiveJournal app for iPhone.
Originally published at tansyrr.com. You can comment here or there.
The new episode is up! Grab it from our site, or download it from iTunes!
In which we celebrate our 60th episode and Peter McNamara Award for Excellence win with cake, yarn and superheroes. For best results, consume this podcast with fabulous cake and/or sock yarn.
News
Once again, the Writer Beware blog has been chosen as one of Writer's Digest's 101 Best Websites for Writers (the list appears in the June 2012 issue of the magazine, and can be downloaded here if you're willing to subscribe to the WD newsletter).
Writer's Digest compiles this list annually from nominations submitted by the public. This year, more than 4,000 nominations were received, a record number.
Congratulations to our sponsors Science Fiction Writers of America and Mystery Writers of America, which also made the list, and to all the wonderful websites, resources, and organizations included in this highly useful resource.
Just to note: Writer Beware will not be participating in Writer's Digest's Affiliate Program, which pays a 12% referral bonus on sales from the WD online store, and is offered to everyone who's included on the 101 Best Websites list. To avoid conflicts of interest, Writer Beware doesn't host advertising, participate in referral programs, or accept donations.
Mirrored from SFWA | Comment at SFWA
Thanx to
paft, who points out: Right. Happens all the time. Parents can be counted on to be furious when people step in help their children in a dire medical situation.
On the other hand, They never, never sue in cases where the child is allowed to die.
Tis the season for anthology deadlines and convention prep, and I never seem to have enough time to devote to either properly. It is for this reason I always have a few stories in various stages of undress ready to be rescued from the Whoretown of my Pending File.
This year’s anthology theme is Phobias and Superstitions, and I knew I had the perfect story for it. It was mostly formed and just in need of a little tweaking. I knew it was in a notebook or on a hard drive somewhere, and this ethereal wisp of hope is what kept me from actually stating to write it. I was so sure of this Athena of a story, when I found it just last week, scribbled in an old steno book dating back at least 10 years, I put off getting it into pixels for another few days. When I was in the right frame of and avoiding other work, I read the first few lines, reintroduced myself to my characters, and knew I was good to go. I fired up my comp to make the magic reignite the fire in my brain and got down to business.
I usually just transcribe without stopping to edit, much like the way I begin all of my projects longhand. With my handwriting *just* legible, I don’t concern myself with it looking perfect. No one will see these scribbles but me (and future biographers), so getting things perfect isn’t the goal. Basic idea, structure, phrases – I can fill in the rest later. When I later transcribe, I get that the sentences sound silly or wrong and maybe I’m not at the point I wanted to make right then, but it’s okay, because where I was going probably became clear and was written a few sentences further. Transcription is like a Zero Draft Point Two. Just get the words down, the red pen will come out later.
With this project – I simply never got to the Red Pen Point.
This is what I originally wrote (circa 1998):
Casandra and Joanne had been the best of friends since being assigned roommates at the most prestigious witching school in Germany.
LOLOLOLOLOLOLO - WUT?
No, seriously 1998 Me – WUT? I’d always kicked around magical schools long before JK Rowling made them all the rage, but I never thought I’d actually write about one. It wasn’t the direction I’d ever been going. Oh, well. I stopped rolling my eyes long enough to type out a few more sentences, to get through a paragraph and not worry about how blessedly over the top this story was sounding. I could fix it later as soon as I located the thread of the idea.
My story is about a magical cat who who saves lives with the help of a goat wearing enchanted suspenders, so here is an xray of hand I found on the Internet.
About 500 word in and it hit me, that thread wasn’t ever going to be found. 500 words in, I was setting up my own story, not just for my readers (still six years from ever reading a published word I’d written) but for myself. This was over 500 words of back story and utterly ridonkilous – and worse yet, I wasn’t done laying out the past of these two women.
I flipped up a few more pages and it just went on and on. Silly introductions, with snatches of coven mothers and clandestine incantations, I still hadn’t gotten to the point. Finally as my characters were getting to the meat of what the story was actually about – 5 LONGHAND WRITTEN PAGES FRONT AND BACK LATER – it ended.
Just, you know … stopped.
I’d run out of words, or time, or satisfied my muse long enough to get back to the rent-paying gigs. I used to be pretty good about slipping in a few sentences about where I was going, just in case I had to stop writing. It is completely possible to forget where a story was going, as multitudes of dangling ideas can attest. I didn’t do that this time.
Once upon a time I had an idea strong enough to get out pen and paper and open a vein. I tried to ham-hand it into existence, but at the 500 word mark, I still did not have a story. I did have a pair of characters with a very interesting past, but stories really aren’t about the stuff that happens before the stuff happens. And at what is probably the 1200 mark, I was only just getting there, to the reason I probably wanted to write in the first place.
I didn’t get that then, but now I completely understand why stacks and stacks of stories I sent out for submission came back like Dear John letters in the post with other editors’ scribbles noting why it just wasn’t going to work out. They were politely telling me that we should see other people, when they really wanted me to just get to point already. I do that now, my writing is leaner with less pointless back story that doesn’t take the idea or characters anywhere, and the meat is right there. There aren’t 14 courses of empty calories before that one dish people can’t stop talking about is served.
I’ve come a long way in my writing and it’s exciting (and a little embarrassing) to see something like this surface and just float like a dead whale. I can’t wait to see where I am in another 14 years.
By the way, that was 896 words to explain the reason why my submission to Erie Tales is going to be late this year, Editor. Sorry.
Originally published at What She Says. You can comment here or there.
So I finished reading Mark today. Mark is much easier to take than Matthew. There is not so much hell, not so much fire or so much “the scriptures must be fulfilled.” That line gets a little tiresome. Also, Jesus doesn’t contradict himself as much here, as he did in Matthew. Or maybe I’m just getting used to reading the Bible again. And once again, I am amazed that anyone would take it literally. Why, you’d have to have blinders on! But it’s weird. When I read the Bible, I doubt my faith even more, with every word I read. Which makes sense. But at the same time, I believe what I’m reading. I suppose this is another great mystery. And Mark spoke to me, specifically about charitable giving. There is a good bit about how hard it is to be rich and to get into the kingdom of heaven. I think that is clear. It’s hard to give up shiny, plastic things that glitter and glow in the Wal-Mart lights. Lanie and I talked about that today while we were working out. These last few months, I have spent a bundle on new clothes. I haven’t even worn them all. And my closet is full, as is my armoire and my chest of drawers. And the side closet and various shelves. No one needs all these clothes. But it’s the essence of it, the substance of WHY I often shop. It is to distract myself, to make myself feel better. Well. Maybe I will try different things to feel better. Dear, god just listen to her. She’s about to say that she will pray, and she means it. And she’s about to say that instead of spending fifty dollars on clothes, or a hundred, or two hundred, she can give money to Doctors Without Borders and UNICEF. Yes. Just listen to her. Who is this person? What has God done with the old Rebecca?
And seriously. I am still just vile when I’m driving. I am still so pathologically impatient with shrink wrapping and any kind of stubborn fasteners, any stupid, mindless thing that trips me up, that causes me a moment of frustration. Little things that get in under my skin. Don’t worry. I will in no case say that these things are the devil’s way of getting to me. I would never go to that scary place. But I will say this. I think, have always thought, that I am here, on this planet, at this time, to learn. When I die, I will return to where I once was and I will meet with the great committee and discuss my progress and decide what to do next. I feel that I have planned all this out in advance, with God’s help. And the little frustrations and bothers of this life can teach me something, if I will listen. Does that sound even crazier? Perhaps it is. Last night at Sybil’s reading, Dale told a student of mine, when I told him what had been going on with me, that all of this may have blown over in a couple of months. Indeed. We will see what we see.
Tonight is dinner with the priest. I wonder what we will talk about. Jackson and I are under orders from Terri not to discuss UTC or writing. I don’t blame her. We do tend to go on and on. I hope that we can discuss interesting things, not all about Jesus, but certainly I’d like to pick at this guy’s mind and soul. I want to learn things. Create in me a right heart, Oh God.
Today I went to church and found out that the actual name of the Episcopal Church is The Domestic and Foreign Missionary Society of the Episcopal Church. That is a mouthful. And it’s hard to imagine that the present-day church started out in mission work. I’m sure that some conservative Christians don’t even consider Episcopalians Christian at all. Ever heard of the term, “Whiskeypalians?” Yeah, that’s us. We embrace liberal views. If you’re gay, come on in. If you’re an atheist, don’t sweat it. If you’re broken, we’ll take you. Do you worship in a different way? Fine. We are all working for good, and if you aren’t, come hang out with us anyway. This is something that is so clear is the gospel, in Jesus’ behavior. It’s good to go out and hang with people who really need you. That is something else for me to think about. I want to be about the work of the Lord, and I am impatient to get started.
Now on to good times with good friends. And wine of course. And beer of course. It’s a Thursday.
~r.
http://www.pressherald.com/news/USS-Miam
I suspect that headline should read "assessed" . . .
Andddd... work on the new project has been going so much more smoothly lately. Seriously so. I'm so very, very happy about this. Very happy.
Lastly, I had to go with Plan B on the car. Locksley's clutch wouldn't engage when I tried to leave for Kung fu class this morning. On the up side: my good friend Sondra the Fantastic loaned me her Honda S2000 so I could make a run to the auto parts store. Since I knew the problem was probably in the hydraulics (either the master or slave cylinders) and the fluid was low, I thought I'd try topping that off in order to get it to last until I arrived at the mechanic. No such luck, I'm afraid. Ended up towing Locksley. Oh, well. My mechanic thinks it's only the slave cylinder that's gone. I hope he's right. That'd be a lot cheaper than the other alternatives. All in all, everything will be all right. Locksley is in good hands, and a working plan is in place. Hopefully, it shouldn't take too long. Unfortunately, this is a holiday weekend. If I can't get my car back tomorrow, I won't be going anywhere until Tuesday afternoon. That's a lot of Kung fu to miss. Also, I've that signing. I could walk, I guess, but it's already too hot for that. (We hit the 90s this week.) We'll see. Meanwhile, Sondra's Sexy Beast is in my driveway. Wow, that thing is fine. It's like driving a Miata with four times the engine power. There may have been a short burst of speed on the highway with loud music. Maybe. Bless Sondra for the above and beyond friend favor. Seriously. Just wow.
The best jalapeno poppers ever, from Inn At The Crossroads.
Take a quick look at that recipe, then come back. It's okay, I'll wait.
First thing I noticed: It doesn't say what to *do* with the cayenne and the cumin, so I figured I couldn't really go wrong with splitting it between the cheese and the egg. As it turns out: Cayenne is not egg-soluble, and just kind of clumped up. So! The recipe, cleaned up a little, is:
Ingredients:
1 250g package cream cheese, softened
250g shredded sharp Cheddar cheese
1 onion, minced
1 tsp ground cumin
1 tsp ground cayenne pepper
15 fresh jalapeno peppers, halved lengthwise and seeded
2 eggs, beaten
1/2 tablespoon milk
2-3 cups crushed corn flake cereal
Directions
1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees F. Line a baking sheet with foil.
2. In a medium bowl, mix together cream cheese, cheddar cheese, spices, and onion. Stuff jalapeno halves with the mixture.
3. Whisk together eggs and milk in a small bowl. Place crushed corn flake cereal in a separate small bowl.
4. Dip each stuffed jalapeno half into the egg and milk mixture, then roll in corn flake cereal to coat.
5. Arrange in a single layer on the prepared baking sheet. Bake in the preheated oven 30 minutes, or until filling is bubbly and lightly browned.
And here's what you get:
OM NOM NOM NOM NOM NOM NOM.
Notably, I didn't crush the cornflakes enough. They should have been even smaller chunks than you see here.
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