I bought the honeycomb at the rain-walled farmer's market on Saturday -- that and bright late strawberries and a sachet of strong lavender.
Saturday was the best day I've had in ages -- the kind where you forget the good things you did in the morning because the good things you did in the evening were even better.
The best thing I did was see, or I would say witness, Tanya Tagaq perform Qiksaaktuq.
I hope to write about that as soon as the words to do so have been invented.
The next best thing I did was attend a poetry workshop. I'd been violently nervous out of mostly phantom social fears, but in the event there was much mellowness and pleasant chill and a little magic.
We did three pieces of freewriting: one based on people reading out various poems and bits of prose (the only one that comes to mind now was a Poe poem); one a letter to a friend (I had trouble with that); and one was a set of directions or instructions (the guy next to me had a lovely line: "Don't go down / go back down").
This is a second draft of my first, vaguely Poe-inspired piece (& obvs. a whole raft of Romantics are running around in there). I don't know if it can be anything, ultimately, what with its oddly formal voice, unless something speculative from a world where such a voice would fit, but I liked things about it enough to work with it a bit.
Where is my
What is buried up to its neck in me?
In this deep old desert
where all experience is reduced
to rubble, to gravel, and at last to dust
Whatever I broke, whatever I toppled or shattered,
it fell where I pushed it and lay there, decaying.
Who built these monuments? Of what materials?
I must have built them. It must have been of sand.
Statue or pleasure-dome, shattered,
fallen, sifted, heaped up,
bound with lime and water, refashioned.
Do they improve with iteration, my idols?
If inhaled, chewed out of the air,
do they provide -- sustenance? Flavour? Information?
Make up your mind: are you a ruin or a desert?
If a ruin, you must once have been magnificent.
If a desert, you must once have been
a forest full of cool vapour
or the bottom of a sea, seething with life.
Who is the wanderer?
Who is it breathes in my dust,
contemplates my ruin?
It must be me again. How tiresome.
Unless someone else can be recruited.
Unless you will do it.
Who is my Ozymandias?
It must be that man
I thought I could become
I must be the sculptor who captured his curled lip.
No kiss, not even of this outsized stone mouth.
Well, why not? Climb up and kiss it. As dry
as anything imaginable.
( Full list of fics by fandom below the cut )
Or browse the collection by the tag cloud.
NYR2017 is now closed. The New Year's Resolution collection for 2018 will open on January 1. Works for past Yuletide prompts may be submitted there.
so why isn't this show a super classic that we are currently talking about rebooting? it's got everything! heroism, friendship, moral dilemmas, mounties, magical realism - EVERYTHING.
( series 1 - in which our hero arrives in the windy city )
Two thoroughly exhausting (but mostly in a good way) weeks are behind me; first the Frankfurt Book Fair, then a workshop (in a splendid environment, but still, it was work from morning till night). Hence no posts; I could only get online very briefly.
( Macron, Merkel, Rushdie, Atwood et all under the cut )
I haven't posted for a while. This was mainly because Dreamwidth changing to https broke all the crossposting plugins. So it meant that I had to manually copy the posts from LJ, which was too much of a pain to be bothered with.
There are two plugins which are both based off an old one and haven't been updated for years. They still don't work with DW, but I am still using the same one to crosspost to LJ, so if you read there, you won't notice any difference. For DW I have a new plugin that crossposts to hundreds of places, but doesn't do any LJ/DW specific stuff. So if you're reading this on DW you'll see extra spaces between paragraphs. And if I use a more tag at any point you'll get even more spacing, rather than a cut tag.
I tried looking at both plugins to see if I could edit some things from one into another, but the new one is so long, because it does so much that Kate (KDW Linux equivalent of Notepad++) complained about it, and I decided I had better things to do with my time. For now, this is better than manually crossposting.
I wrote a fic for femslashex:
Military Interference (2630 words) by paranoidangel
Fandom: Doctor Who (2005), Sarah Jane Adventures
Relationships: Kate Lethbridge-Stewart/Sarah Jane Smith
Summary: Sarah Jane and Kate have to save themselves from aliens and settle a score.
One of the things selenay talked about was Sarah disliking military interference. So I decided the best place for Sarah and Kate to talk about it was in a cell on an alien spaceship heading away from Earth. And then I went "Shit! How do I get them out of this?" Which is generally how I write plot: get them into a mess and have no idea how to get them out of it.
Mirrored from my blog
writing this post because i thought there should be some posts on my livejournal. maybe i will write some more thoughts about due south, but in a separate post. we're about mid series 2. it's still good, though paul haggis has stopped writing. a thing that i did not expect at all has happened - but there's less fall out than i would have expected from this show as well.
about a month ago we went to the RSC costume jumble sale in stratford upon avon. if you like the thrill of the chase, shakespeare, and accumulating useless tat, and you get the opportunity to go, you should DEFINITELY go. it was very exciting. three massive rooms of period and modern costumes, all incredibly cheap. we bought three bin bags of stuff (i love accumulating useless tat) and had to lug it around stratford for the rest of the day until the cloak room for the midday matinee blessedly opened. our swag included a doublet, several pairs of shoes (period, and modern), a dress worn by guenievere in a production of the morte d'arthur (although alas, only an under dress - but i was like: i love arthur! i must have), a silk tudor-style dress, some silly hats, and some jumpers. i started to write about this right now, because i am currently wearing one of the jumpers while i sit here, still in my pyjamas, typing this post to you from sunday morning. it's this one from arden of faversham. very sexy, obviously. cleaning lady chic. it's quite nice though.
i only know where it's from, btw, as all the costumes have tags inside them, which is another nice feature. i haven't seen this play.
i've been playing lots of board games, obviously. in the maths trade we received: kingdom builder, brass, lords of xidit, and mottanai. unfortunately brass and xidit need LOTS of people, so not only have i not played them, i dont think we're likely to play them soon.
also - if you are interested in spending money to acquire semi-useful tat (by which i mean board games) you might like to take a look at the near and far: amber mines kickstarter - which closes on the 4th november. i LOVE 'near and far' (my favourite game of the moment) AND 'above and below' and quickly pledged to get all the extras, which includes new stories and cool stuff for both games. tonnes of stretch goals have been unlocked already, including co-op mode, which we've been sent as a print and play to play now! you can also buy the original game through the kickstarter, but then you'd have to WAIT.
anyway - i recommend it.
And oddly enough, I received a 'defence review' on "Blue Remembered Hills" from another guest account this morning -- someone who reviewed it way back at the start and hasn't been heard from since. So there clearly are multiple people reading this story whom I don't know about and don't even have signed-up accounts (strange, given that the raw page hit count is so low)!
It hadn't even occurred to me that I was causing problems for people who couldn't sign in to 'follow' the story :-(
Still, at 4am yesterday morning I was being bright and cheerful and very prepared. Sign In sheets, printed copies of the crew list ect. We installed a small show in the Palace Hotel, operated it, then took it down and stuffed it back in the truck by 1:15 pm. The nice things about this 10 hour work day were the hourly rate which was almost $10 above our normal rate (special contract for companies who refuse to sign a long term contract with us) AND the fact that it was all at double time. The Union contract says that anytime we are forced to go to work before 6am (or after 12 midnight) that the employer has to pay us double time until we get a 9 hour break. In this case the company didn't want to pay for an extra day for the hotel ballroom for our setup, and the event started at 7am.
Had a nice day with Donald today.
Cover art and design by Ron Miller.
The vendor-page copy will read:
"In this sequel novella to "Mira's Last Dance", Temple sorcerer Penric and the widow Nikys have reached safety in the duchy of Orbas when a secret letter from a friend brings frightening news: Nikys's mother has been taken hostage by her brother's enemies at the Cedonian imperial court, and confined in a precarious island sanctuary.
Their own romance still unresolved, Nikys, Penric, and of course Desdemona must infiltrate the hostile country once more, finding along the way that family relationships can be as unexpectedly challenging as any rescue scheme."
I don't have a firm release date yet, though I'm hoping for launch in not more than a few weeks. I will, of course, post the news here when it goes live.
Ron, by the way, has two books of his own out this month:
posted by Lois McMaster Bujold on October, 21
First draft of the Hallowe'en story "Annoyance" done, I think. The fandom really isn't going to like that one, given that it depicts their beloved Erik as a psychopath who fantasises about killing off Christine in order to get rid of the uncomfortable new feelings he is experiencing around her; even I wondered if I'd gone too far, given the way that he subsequently behaves around her when he first kidnaps her in Leroux (filling the room with flowers, telling her he loves her). ( Read more... )
I’ve signed up to write a story for the “Fandom Loves Puerto Rico” charity auction.
If you’re not familiar with these sorts of fannish auctions, they’ve been organized many times over the past years as benefits to raise funds for disaster relief. The first one I was aware of was for the Haiti earthquake.
How it works: Fans offer various items, such as fic, art, vids, beta services, handcrafted items, etc., which usually include customization of the fic or item for the winning bidder. Fans are given a certain amount of time to bid for the item. The winner then donates the bid amount to the charity and emails a screencap of the receipt or other proof of donation to the creator. Then the creator and winning bidder can discuss further details.
The auction went live on October 17th.
Deadline for bids is October 23rd.
Once again, I cannot figure out how to make links work in DW, despite reviewing their FAQ, so if anyone has any advice, could you let me know? Thanks!
Here’s the main link:
Here’s a “how to” FAQ:
I’m offering a 1,000+ word fic with a minimum bid of $10.00. Go to the bottom of the page.
There’s lots of fandoms to choose from. Over 300 people have signed up to create items for this charity. Here’s the list of fandoms with links to the people who are creating works in each fandom.
Here’s the chosen charity: ConPRmetidos. I googled and found out: The nonprofit is based in Puerto Rico, and is accepting donations that will be first be used for the immediate needs of food, shelter and water, and later transitioned to long-term recovery efforts.
The organizers said: “The reason that we've chosen ConPRmetidos is because of their focus on long term, sustained repair of Puerto Rico's infrastructure. They'll be fixing roads, hospitals, homes, and the electrical grid. They're financing local companies and local efforts. They're working with the Puerto Rican National Guard to coordinate resources and fill financing gaps. And they're not going to leave in a couple weeks.”
Parker : [Laughs] oh, yeah. The word is stamina. I mean, definitely a bunny in the sack, but later on, well. You know the difference between a freshman girl and a toilet seat? A toilet seat doesn't follow you around after you use it.
Riely decks Parker who hits the floor.
Riley : (Walking between Forrest and Graham.) I can't believe that I did that.
Forrest : What the hell for?
Riley : He--he was just being so crude.
Forrest : Please. You've heard me say much grosser things than that.
Riley : I just didn't like hearing him (he pauses thoughtfully) talk about buffy that way. I think I... Well, I guess I like her.
I have said before that I think Riley Finn was a metaphor for male privilege (straight, white male privilege specifically) and this is the perfect example.
Riley is a nice guy. Decent. Works hard. Goes to church. Serves his country. And it's possible we're meant to cheer him on for decking Parker. But. The line that stands out is Forrest's:
You've heard me say much grosser things than that.
The only thing different is that Riley happens to like Buffy. The whole of the cold open is a lengthy frat-boy-ish objectification of women. And Riley never speaks up.
I wish they'd done more with him. I can't even tell if the metaphor was deliberate, or if they just took the most basic template possible to create him, and the metaphor was built in.
However, it's useful. (Also see Xander of course.) Because in creating him, they essentially made Buffy date the Patriarchy. And the Patriarchy couldn't hack it and ran away.
But... they never really made the Patriarchy face its issues. Maybe they couldn't. Maybe that would have been a step too far for Joss... (*SO* not surprised at his ex-wife's allegations.)
And so it goes. From the Weinsteins and the Trumps at the top, through the Whedons and the Gibsons right down to the guy on the bus who puts his hand on your knee.
Because all the Riley Finns in the world just laugh when their friends are crude.
Not because she's your sister, your mother, your daughter, your girlfriend. Because he is your brother, your father, your son, your friend.
(ETA: Much like white people need to tackle racism, and straight/cis people need to tackle LGBT+ bigotry.)
While defending President Donald Trump's "brave" condolence call to a Gold Star family, Chief of Staff Gen. John Kelly attacked Rep. Frederica Wilson, calling her an "empty barrel." Lawrence O'Donnell explains why Kelly was noble and cruel all at once.
This is 19 minutes long, but it's worth it. And it's what we need more of - straight white guys calling out their own.
My name is Alessandra (called Sandy) from Italy.
At first, sorry for my English!
I’d like to tell you that you are my favorite illustrator !
I met you in Lucca comics & games in far 2005 during an interview of Ragno Magazine, do you remember?
In that time, you draw me a play card of munchkin “a lot of very nice balloons”, but my boyfriend lost my card and I cry.
I love Munchkin illustration!
In Lucca comics & games 2014 I went to Lucca only for you, but during your signed session, Lucca’s security couldn’t enter in Games palace .
So, I’d like to know if you will came in Italy again , and finally say hallo to you!
Thanks a lot for your kindness and enjoy yourself!
First off, thank you so much for the VERY kind words! Your English is MUCH better than my Italian, so you have nothing to apologize for!
I’d love to come back to Italy, and soon. When I was in school, in England, we’d spend our summers outside of Milan. I miss it terribly.
The problem with Lucca is, it usually falls on Halloween, and I really try to spend holidays with my wife and daughter. But I do have a many friends there, and I miss them all. It’s also one of my all-time favorite conventions. So…possibly..?
I’m sorry I missed you at Lucca 2014 – it was a crazy huge convention. I’m going over my 2018 schedule now: if I’m not back at Lucca next year, perhaps there will be another Italian show.
In any case, Italy’s definitely top of my list to get back to, and soon! And I’ll certainly re-draw you that card. Tell your boyfriend he loses a level!
With many thanks,
Two days ago Joe and I got on a plane and flew to New York City for a little bite of the Big Apple
He had work and me too, but we still had the time to make the most of it. We went to the park, and the Met, and the Guggenheim. (I have no idea why those pictures are blurry, they aren’t before I upload them but I don’t have time to figure it out.)
I knit all of those places because I’m me. Nobody minded. As a matter of fact I wasn’t even the only knitter at the Met wandering around with a sock in hand. (I think it was a sock.)
4. They were on their way to Rhinebeck, which I am not.
5. I know. I’m bummed about it too, but this year I had a conflict, and I’ll be at Knit East. It will be the first time in more than a decade that I won’t be with my usual crew, but duty calls, and Knit East is awesome, and there will be a whole bunch of amazing knitters there too. Life is long. Next year will be Rhinebeck, with my wool as my witness.
6. The only problem remains that I usually buy a years worth of soap there, so I’m going to need a solution. (Makes note to self, arranging cross-border soap mule.)
I’m on my way home now, with a quick turnaround to St. John in the morning. I’m literally putting down one suitcase, sleeping, and picking up one I pre-packed before I left.
I almost went to a yarn store in NYC, but it was closed for a class. (One knitting teacher to another – I’d never interrupt your class. Not for anything.)
I ate at Dirt Candy. It was amazing. I had a tiny grilled pea taco. (And a lot of other stuff too.)
* * *
The end-of-term shows at the Dramatic School were so funny that my nose began to bleed, and I had to grope my way out and yell it off in the cloak-rooms. But mother, shuddering with giggles, sat it all out so as to be able to say what there was to say to Katrine. Her roles included Polonius, and she'd just got to "costly thy habit" when her beard came half off and swung like a pendulum for the rest of the scene, and in The Professor's Love Story (Oh! what a bad play!) the gate stuck, and pinned that whimsical recluse to his own fence.
And later on, mother told me, one of the girls (as a farmer) had to fill a pipe and smoke it, and she stuffed the bowl so full that a man in the audience said "Christ" out loud, and of course it wouldn't draw, and the girl pulled nearly all of it out again, and mother said "The stage was knee-deep in shag. That girl ought to get on."
* * *
Reading it, I barked helplessly like a hoarse hound.