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Monday, November 3rd, 2008
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8:00 pm - Long Time, No Read
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I haven't been here. I've been crazy elsewhere, with (fantastic) new job and other such Real Life Pay Attention To Me, Dammit matters. But I had to post this, because I'm all a-flutter.
The query letter I sent to Cemetery Dance came back today with a hand-written note:
"Sent this to Rich for a 2nd read earlier this year. If you haven't heard back yet, it's still being considered." The signature is N. Prentiro? Prentino? I'm not quite sure. In either case...
!
Yeah. Whoa.
current mood:  optimistic
current music: Leonard Cohen, "Famous Blue Raincoat"
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(1 comment | comment on this)
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| Saturday, September 6th, 2008
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9:49 am - I Guess You Haven't Come A Long Way, Baby
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| Thursday, September 4th, 2008
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4:10 pm - I Suppose It Was Only A Matter Of Time
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| Tuesday, August 19th, 2008
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5:29 pm - On A Much Lighter Note:
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25 Created by OnePlusYou - Online Dating Site
Yeah, that's right. I'm bad, baby. I'm bad like Xena.
Unfortunately, I'm not really bad enough to have written a query letter to Cemetery Dance, yet. I suppose I should, but I'm chicken.
Bikaw.
Bikaw. Bikaw.
current mood:  crazy
current music: Leonard Cohen, "Hallelujah"
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(2 comments | comment on this)
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| Friday, August 15th, 2008
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3:27 pm - Sorry. Not about writing. About anger. Lots of anger.
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Fuck. Fuckity fucking fucktardery fucked FUCK.
Ok, I'll confess. I don't have a penis. Yep, there, I said it. I do not have a cock, dick, schlong, tube steak, or meat mallet.
Oddly enough? I'm still human.
To the vast majority of you, this isn't a news flash. This rant is not directed at you. For those of you still reeling from this concept being introduced into your worldview, however, sit down. Go ahead. Get comfy. I'll wait. Ready? Ok. Here we go.
Women are people.
Yeah, I know. Shocking, hunh? Here I am, all differently shaped and soft and nice-smelling, and yet insisting that I'm a person just like those blessed by the mighty and sacred phallus. What am I thinking? Have I gone mad? Has the lack of child bearing caused my uterus to wander upwards and strangle my poor female excuse for a brain, thus cursing me with delusions of humanity?
Nope. Just stating the simple facts, kiddies. Chicks are people, too.
Now, I know that this will be harder for some of you to accept than others. The most devout among you will be the most troubled. After all, Jesus had a dick, right? And God must, too, since Adam is made in his image and Eve was just a second generation knock-off of the real thing. Clearly, then, if the divine dangles a dick, a penis proves personhood. If it has a clit, it must submit.
Sadly, that line of reasoning just doesn't adequately support the facts. Women are in nearly every way indistinguishable from real people. We get mad in traffic. We go to the movies. Sometimes, we even like to get naked and roll around with someone else in pursuit of affectionate friction. So, if women are people, then what's the problem?
More specifically, what's the Baptists' fucking problem?
On June 26th, Baptist luminary Bruce Ware warned that them uppity wimmins is at it again. Apparently, women wouldn't get knocked around if they'd just know their place. Yep. Wife beating is all a result of women not submitting to the just and righteous leadership of their masters. Er. Husbands. Sorry about that slip up. Since I'm clearly so prone to mistakes, doubtless caused by my lamentable femininity, let me just allow Dr. Ware to explain it for himself. See, women want to have their way sometimes, which is a sin. And men? Well, they just have to respond somehow. "[H]usbands on their parts, because they're sinners, now respond to that threat to their authority either by being abusive, which is of course one of the ways men can respond when their authority is challenged--or, more commonly, to become passive, acquiescent, and simply not asserting the leadership they ought to as men in their homes and in churches."
Dr. Ware, I have no doubt that you are a chapter and verse man, a man who likes his sources cited. So I have a few chapters and verses to lay on you, complete with citations.
Did you know, Dr. Ware, that the leading cause of of death among pregnant women is homicide? If you're curious, I urge you to check out "Pregnancy-Associated Mortality at the End of the Twentieth Century: Massachusetts, 1990 – 1999," in the Journal of the American Medical Women’s Association, Vol. 57, No. 23, Summer 2002. Quite a bit of interesting reading, there. I'm sure you'll see that in each and every one of those murders, the woman was asking for it by trying to get her own way. Those kooky daughters of Eve! Won't they ever learn?
Here's another little tale of a woman, Dr. Ware, who just didn't understand God's special plan for her and defied her husband. This time, I think I'll let her speak for a change; you can find her story for yourself at www.wadt.org if you'd like to check the facts.
"Hi, my name is E. Im telling my story about being ABUSED, for over 10 years of my life.
When I was first abused I didnt recognize the signs. It started with my daughters father, whom is now deceased from a drug overdose. He would abuse me, call me ugly, all sorts of bad names, fight me, tell me didnt nobody want me. I believed him for years. Because I didnt know better. He would beat me when I did not give him money for drugs and take my money or any anything of value to get the drugs.
Make me have sex with him without my consent most of the time. I was treated for a nervous breakdown. My hair would come out real bad because of my nerves. I was a total wreck. He also tried to kill me."
Silly girl. If she had just submitted to the will of her husband and given him that money to buy drugs when he asked for it, she'd have never had those problems. Leave it to a woman to mess up something that simple! It's all there in the Bible!
And that's just the beginning! Can you belive there are still women bringing this kind of abuse on themselves by their divinely appointed overlords? Those gals! What a hoot!
Just take the example of that Laci Peterson. I mean, her husband didn't want to have children, and she should've let it be. Pressuring him like that! I'm sure that if she'd just let the man be the head of the family as God is the head of the church, she wouldn't have been found floating in San Francisco bay minus her arms, right foot, left leg, and head. Neither would Evelyn Hernandez. And Jessie Marie Davis would probably be all right, too, if she hadn't sassed off.
Asking for it. Every one of us. We just don't understand our place in God's plan, do we? We so stubbornly refuse to be meek, humble, and appealing chattel. We tax our inferior, child-like brains with things outside our mandate. If we'd just concentrate on being wives and mothers, like the Bible teaches, the world would be a second Eden of peace and harmony.
Listen, you shriveled up piece of hyena shit, and listen good. FUCK. YOU. This is the TWENTY FIRST-GODDAMN CENTURY, and the rank medieval BULLSHIT you're peddling has EXPIRED. Fuck your self-righteous certainty. Fuck your unfathomable hardness of heart for blaming the victims of abuse for daring to stand up for themselves. Fuck your hatred. Fuck your fear. Fuck your raging stupidity. Fuck the idea of "affirming male headship in the created order." Fuck the idea that the only way half the entire fucking human race can be rescued from Eve's sin is by being "saved in childbearing." Fuck you and fuck you and FUCK YOU.
You don't get to decide shit for me, monster. You don't get to decide, and neither does your God.
current mood:  angry
current music: Just listening to my blood pressure rising, thanks.
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| Saturday, May 10th, 2008
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3:15 pm - Eadem Mutata Resurgo
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There have been some...ah...hiccups in the flow of my life, of late, though I have no intention of over-sharing here in a writing journal. However, I will report the following.
1) Still no word from Cemetery Dance, which makes me weep like a little girl.
2) I have an Idea that is turning out pretty well thus far -- a travel guide through a steampunk version of the 19th C. complete with lost worlds, aetheric travel, etc. For women! Heh. Working title: The Gentle Intrepid. Having loads of fun with this one.
3) Nobby is stalled, but I may be bashing my way through here in a bit.
4) There's another Idea, a very large Idea, on the approach. With monsters! Conceptual monsters that live in the indefinable gap between the signifier and the signified, but still -- totally monsters.
5) Also? Lists are fun to type.
current mood:  tired
current music: New Bauhaus ZOMGROXXORZ!!!!
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(5 comments | comment on this)
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| Monday, March 10th, 2008
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4:08 pm - Buh: The Sequel
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| Wednesday, March 5th, 2008
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9:17 pm - Buh.
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I tucked the final edit into standard submission format. I wrote a cover letter. I made a SASE. I quintuple-checked my spelling, especially of the editor's name. I put it all in a manila mailing envelope.
I'm losing my mind.
The perfect is the enemy of the good. The perfect is the enemy of the good. The perfect is the enemy of the good.
Wish me luck.
current mood: crazy
current music: Bright Eyes, "Four Winds"
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(4 comments | comment on this)
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| Sunday, March 2nd, 2008
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3:20 pm - Sharp Things
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I know where the scissor girl goes. Oh, it's fun. And there's a butler, too! He's West African, and pledged to Obatala, so I'll need to be brushing up on my Ifa cosmology. They both work for a widowed society doyenne of some polish. I'm very excited.
I'm watching Lawrence of Arabia have his post-assult freak out, screaming "NO PRISONERS!" Damn, this is a serious movie.
Off to generate more words. Moar werds. Do want.
current mood:  energetic
current music: Maurie Jarre's soundtrack
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(comment on this)
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| Friday, February 29th, 2008
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7:30 pm - Leap Day! Huzzah!
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Feels like one should Do Something on such a day, doesn't it?
I'm working on the second edit of a short story I intend to submit for publication to both Cemetary Dance and Apex Magazine. I figure I'll give the big concerns a chance to reject me, first. Besides, they pay better should I somehow sneak in. I'm under 1000 words, so I think I'll have to pare it a bit to make it flash or else reimagine it to beef it considerably, and I'm leaning toward the former. There's an economy to this one that I don't want to screw up.
Meanwhile, a fantastic scissor-weilding character has shown up, but I have no idea who she is or where she goes. One thing of which I am certain is that she could totally kick my ass.
More words. Need more words. Words!
current mood:  contemplative
current music: The Decemberists, "Shankill Butchers"
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(comment on this)
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6:33 am - Lest We Forget
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Left Shoe Fanatic Held In Japan
Japanese police have arrested a man for theft after 440 women's left shoes were found in his home. Officers discovered the hoard after the man, 45, was initially arrested for stealing the left shoes of two women from a hospital in Usa, police said.
The hospital, which asks visitors to change into slippers, said people had complained about missing shoes.
The Yomiuri Shimbun newspaper said the man, Ichiro Irie, told police: "I have been interested in women's feet."
A police spokesman said the search of his house uncovered 440 hidden left shoes.
He said Mr. Irie had admitted to stealing the footwear, which included high heels and nurses' sandals.
It was not clear why Mr Irie appeared to prefer the left foot.
Police are investigating whether he may have been stealing from other locations.
current mood: amused
current music: Bob Dylan, "Desolation Row"
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(comment on this)
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| Thursday, February 28th, 2008
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2:49 am - Gallows Giggles
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Feeling rededicated to the writing for reasons far too convoluted to describe here.
Been peeking around. Been seeing some published stuff. Been getting a bit too cocky, likely, but...I might actually be feeling brave enough to submit a couple of things for publication.
I mean, the worst they can say is, "Not only does your writing not please us, it fills us with the sort of agony we imagine would be exceeded only by eating broken glass with lemon and capers."
current mood:  creative
current music: Haydn, Symphony No. 100
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(1 comment | comment on this)
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| Thursday, January 3rd, 2008
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12:35 am - Zombies!
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Ok. So. No, not so much with actual zombies. Just a zombie journal, returned from the dead. November and December are the Months Of Great Suckage And Craptastictude for those of us who work retail, and I thus have not posted in roughly 12987341023407832456754980342345645854 years or so.
But I am alive, I have returned to torment you (all...er...both of you), and I have the next chapter of Nobby to unleash upon the unsuspecting intarwebs.
This chapter is an authorial aside, sort of a primer on why it is that Nobby and her tailor friend were so very concerned at the end of the last chapter. It is brief, as are all the others, but I'm relatively pleased with it.
As an aside, I was stuck here for a long time. Nearly a year, in fact. Just recently found my way out of the quagmire, and am writing the next chapter. Hopefully it won't take another year to polish, mm?
So, without any more quibbling, here's ( Chapter Six: Wherein The Rather Fragile Nature Of Reality Is Elucidated At Great And Possibly Annoying Length )
current mood: artistic
current music: Peter Murphy, "Cuts You Up"
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| Wednesday, November 7th, 2007
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2:00 pm - Imaginary Tea Shop
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This is just a place to store a list of possible beverages for an imaginary tea shop. Not sure what it is for/if it is for anything. Carry on.
Regular Teas
Oolong, Green, White, English Breakfast, Irish Breakfast, Earl Grey, etc.
Custom Tea Blends
Bathory: Red Tea (Rooibos) with Pomegrante
Iago: ?
The Impaler: Smoked Lapsang Souchong with Star Anise & Black Pepper
The Joker: Green Tea with Blood Orange
Lucretia: Oolong with Red Plum
The Mad Hatter: English Breakfast Tea with Almond Honey
Moriarty: Earl Grey with Lavender Flowers
Morningstar: White Tea with Apple Blossom
Mr. Hyde: ?
Sweeny Todd: ?
Performance Teas
Clotho: Flowering Jasmine Tea with Heart of Rose
Lakhesis: Flowering Jasmine Tea with Heart of Amaranth
Atropos: Flowering Jasmine Tea with Heart of Chysanthemum
Veressia: Flowering White Tea with Heart of Rose
Felicity: Flowering White Tea with Heart of Hibiscus
Tisanes
Flora: Rose Hips & Hibiscus
Guasconti: Rosemary & Vanilla
Morpheus: Chamomile & Catnip
Mugicha: Japanese-Style Roasted Barley
Sheik: Ginseng & Ginger
Valeria: Catnip & Clover
current mood:  thirsty
current music: Hayon, "Cello Concerto in C Major"
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(9 comments | comment on this)
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| Saturday, October 27th, 2007
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1:30 am - Oh, why not? I mean, really -- why on Earth not?
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Time. Time. Time. See what's become of me? Enh. At least the new Sweeney Todd trailer is full of unmitigated sex appeal. Johnny Depp looking dangerous! Helena Bonham Carter looking crazed! Alan Rickman as a...
...let's be honest, kiddies. Doesn't matter what Mr. Rickman's playing. I'm in. Mmm. Aaaaaalan. That voice should be regulated like a Schedule I narcotic.
Sorry. Where was I? Oh, yes. Time. Time for more Nobby, if anyone's reading. Chapter Five, this time, in which there is less gratuitous violence and nudity and more thirteenth century scholars. Um. Well. There's profanity? And gin? You like gin, right? I like gin. Not sure I trust anyone who doesn't like gin.
I bet Alan likes gin.
( Chapter Five: Wherein Nobby Says A Bad Word For A Good Reason )
current mood:  hungry
current music: Cake Bake Betty, "The Spine Song"
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(1 comment | comment on this)
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| Thursday, September 27th, 2007
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12:20 am - Whoa....
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There is a 'possum in my back yard that is roughly the size of the Chrysler Building.
current mood: irritated
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(comment on this)
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| Friday, September 21st, 2007
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12:02 am - Yeah. More Nobby. Want something else? Read another journal. This is what I've got.
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Chapter Four. I like this bit. I break another of those By Golly, Missy, You Better Follow This Here Rule About Writing truism in this. "Combat scenes, as all right thinking people know, require shorter sentences," we are told. "This gives the impression of action. Do not stray from this path! Here be dragons! For God's sake, woman, STICK TO THE PLAN!"
I got yer plan in my pants.
Does it seem like I have a chip on my shoulder? Maybe I do. Maybe I'm just being bitchy, an unpublished writer challenging the received wisdom of people who know better than I do.
I think I'll name my chip. Beauregaurde? That's nicely pretentious. Has a ring to it.
Oh. Also, this has gay ninjas. Hee!
( Chapter Four: In Which Ninjas Inconvenience Our Heroine )
current mood: artistic
current music: Cake Bake Betty, "The Spine Song"
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(5 comments | comment on this)
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| Tuesday, August 28th, 2007
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1:02 am - Yes, more Nobby. No, you can't skip ahead. Yes, there's gin.
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In this chapter, I talk a lot about food. Why? Because I can. I really don't have a better reason. Sorry. You get what you pay for, I suppose, and this stuff's free.
Oh, also, there's nudity.
( Chapter Three: Wherein Nobby Breaks Her Fast )
current mood: sleepy
current music: Echo & the Bunnymen, "People Are Strange"
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| Friday, August 24th, 2007
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3:49 pm - More Hats! And coats! And guns! Or something.
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The subject line of this entry is fairly misleading. In this chapter of Nobby's continuing pulpy adventures, there aren't any hats, coats, or guns, unless they are implied by the Nobby-ness.
But stuff does blow up. So that's good.
( Chapter Two: Wherein Stuff Blows Up )
current mood: amused
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(5 comments | comment on this)
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| Wednesday, August 22nd, 2007
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2:14 am - A Hat, A Coat, And A Gun: Being the Serial (Mis)Adventures of Nobby Toglex
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Nobby's world is not quite steampunk, not quite fantasy, and not quite Bondian espionage, though it owes debts to all three. I like to call this Pretentious Pulp. But then, I'm a nerd.
As for Nobby herself, you'll find some of Michael Moorcock's Jerry Cornelius in her DNA, as well as the aforementioned Bond and a helping of Emma Peel. She kills easily. She dresses nattily. She eats well. All in all, a lot of fun.
Noir plays a role, of course. The title is taken from Raymond Chandler's Farewell My Lovely, as is the opening quotation (Hey. I copped to it being pretentious. Can't fault me for truth in advertising), which is:
"I needed a drink, I needed a lot of life insurance, I needed a vacation, I needed a home in the country. What I had was a coat, a hat, and a gun."
Nobby wears a hat, and a coat, and carries a gun. And she always gets her man. Mind, she also always gets her woman.
This this is full of dependent clauses. Yes, I know. They aren't in vogue. Language should be stripped down to a manly, Hemingway essence. Adjectives are crap. Adverbs are the sign of a weak mind.
Tough. My prose is so purple, it's ultraviolet. It also contains a lot of linguistic play, slippage, alliteration, and just plain silliness. Why? Good question.
Pulp was about doing. Not about being. Doc Savage, for example, didn't engage in a lot of introspection -- if he did, he might have wondered about the ethics of performing brain surgery on people so they wouldn't be naughty anymore. Nope. Can't have that. Cut that cranium open, nurse! We've got society to save! So I've chosen language that is about doing, too. It does stuff. Lots of stuff. Stuff underneath and around and behind and beside and totally unneccessary to the story. Because it can. Because it ought to get to play, too. And because I find it entertaining to write that way.
If you'd like a nibble, the first chapter is behind the cut.
( Chapter One: Wherein Nobby Receives The Sacrament )
current mood: bouncy
current music: Tom Waits, "Jockey Full Of Bourbon"
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devious