Since I've been complaining about the terms being thrown around, I thought I'd talk a little about the difference between communism and socialism as I learned them.
Communist (Marxist) theory was envisioned by early adherents as demanding the complete abrogation of all means of production unto the state. The idea also came to be predicated upon a violent revolution in which the dictatorship of the capitalist class would be replaced with the dictatorship of the working class. This is how it happened in Russia and China, and because of the totalitarian oligarchies that emerged in both places, that system came to define modern communism, no matter what Marx may have originally intended.
In the late 1800s there was an ideological split during which modern day socialism emerged. Its adherents separated the economic principles away from revolutionary qualities, arguing that collectivist ideas could be just as easily applied--if not more easily applied--within a framework of existing governments. This was especially true due to the rise of parliamentary democracies, though theoretically, even a monarch could institute such economic reforms.
It was the socialists who argued against a class war. (A real class war, not the kind we prattle on about now.) And because socialism de-coupled itself from one governmental idea, it now has all kinds of previously unthinkable branches, such as 'Libertarian Socialism' and 'Social Anarchism.'
Helpful? Not helpful? Need to add anything? The floor is yours :)
Communist (Marxist) theory was envisioned by early adherents as demanding the complete abrogation of all means of production unto the state. The idea also came to be predicated upon a violent revolution in which the dictatorship of the capitalist class would be replaced with the dictatorship of the working class. This is how it happened in Russia and China, and because of the totalitarian oligarchies that emerged in both places, that system came to define modern communism, no matter what Marx may have originally intended.
In the late 1800s there was an ideological split during which modern day socialism emerged. Its adherents separated the economic principles away from revolutionary qualities, arguing that collectivist ideas could be just as easily applied--if not more easily applied--within a framework of existing governments. This was especially true due to the rise of parliamentary democracies, though theoretically, even a monarch could institute such economic reforms.
It was the socialists who argued against a class war. (A real class war, not the kind we prattle on about now.) And because socialism de-coupled itself from one governmental idea, it now has all kinds of previously unthinkable branches, such as 'Libertarian Socialism' and 'Social Anarchism.'
Helpful? Not helpful? Need to add anything? The floor is yours :)
My friend SarahScott is getting married, and as part of a lovely tradition she has asked friends to contribute a quilt square to their wedding blanket which is going to double as a chuppah at the ceremony.
I wanted to do this for two reasons. First, because I love her and that's so sweet. Second, because she gathered squares for my tenth Anniversary and presented us a beautiful quilt at FiranCon which Adam and I treasure.
However, I do not do crafts. I cook, I clean, I entertain. But I do not make cute little things with my bare hands and the foreign tools one finds at Jo Anne's Fabrics.
So yesterday, Lisa Christie came over to help. And it is a good thing she did, because there is no way at all that this quilt square would have been completed without her. I chose an applique because they said it was easy. I chose a pattern with only eight shapes because they also said it was easy.
It was not.
Whilst we turned my basement into a scene--according to Adam--out of Little House on the Prairie, Lisa did the hard work, and I did the sewing. This was accompanied by the frequent cry of "OW!" as I stabbed myself with a needle. (And don't even let me get into how worthless a thimble is as body armor.)
Anyway, much love went into the quilt square, but the next one I do is going to be something that I can iron on. :P
I wanted to do this for two reasons. First, because I love her and that's so sweet. Second, because she gathered squares for my tenth Anniversary and presented us a beautiful quilt at FiranCon which Adam and I treasure.
However, I do not do crafts. I cook, I clean, I entertain. But I do not make cute little things with my bare hands and the foreign tools one finds at Jo Anne's Fabrics.
So yesterday, Lisa Christie came over to help. And it is a good thing she did, because there is no way at all that this quilt square would have been completed without her. I chose an applique because they said it was easy. I chose a pattern with only eight shapes because they also said it was easy.
It was not.
Whilst we turned my basement into a scene--according to Adam--out of Little House on the Prairie, Lisa did the hard work, and I did the sewing. This was accompanied by the frequent cry of "OW!" as I stabbed myself with a needle. (And don't even let me get into how worthless a thimble is as body armor.)
Anyway, much love went into the quilt square, but the next one I do is going to be something that I can iron on. :P
A while ago, SF Author Kelly Link recommended that I read some of Laura Kinsale's work. I picked up Shadowheart because it was a fantasy historical with a lot of politics--just the kind of thing that should be my cup of tea. As it turns out, these elements in Shadowheart were not my cup of tea--kind of boring, in fact--and it was something else entirely that I found to be jaw-dropping.
The surprise was the appearance of straight-up bondage scenes in the middle of mainstream fiction--a story of the deadly assassin and the princess he wants to whip and chain him.
I will tell you right now, I braced for a train wreck of epic proportions. I could not imagine how she was going to pull off maintaining this manly-man hero image while simultaneously exploring his need to be bloodied and beaten by his lady love.
I continued to read, eye-brow raised, and lips pursed in irritation, but I think through some very deft characterization choices, she mostly pulled it off. She's quite an amazing writer. Not a book I'll keep, but it was instructive to me as a writer and if it's _your_ cup of tea, it might be worth checking out.
The surprise was the appearance of straight-up bondage scenes in the middle of mainstream fiction--a story of the deadly assassin and the princess he wants to whip and chain him.
I will tell you right now, I braced for a train wreck of epic proportions. I could not imagine how she was going to pull off maintaining this manly-man hero image while simultaneously exploring his need to be bloodied and beaten by his lady love.
I continued to read, eye-brow raised, and lips pursed in irritation, but I think through some very deft characterization choices, she mostly pulled it off. She's quite an amazing writer. Not a book I'll keep, but it was instructive to me as a writer and if it's _your_ cup of tea, it might be worth checking out.
- Mood:
surprised
Wow, nothing is more instructive about the difference between chimps and orangutans than watching Animal Planet's two ape conservation shows back to back.
On Orangutan Island, the host of the show rarely has to sedate an animal. She and her technicians are always amongst the apes. Even when a big bossy orangutan does something they conservationists don't want, they are able to simply scold him and lead him away by the hands. When the orangutans on that show fight, they bite, but mostly it looks like wrestling.
Compare this to Escape to Chimp Eden, where the host (who is drop dead sexy) appears to be taking his life in his hands every time he goes near these animals--even the ones who know and love him. The chimps seem to be way more brutal with each other, and even the baby chimps can have murderous tempers.
Orangutans are actually stronger than chimps, so I can think of no reason for this except that chimps seem to have a much darker character. I once held a baby chimp in my arms and fell in love with her, but after seeing her wild counterparts, I'm not so sure I like them. Unlike orangutans, chimps fight to the death for supremacy in their group and it's not hard to imagine why that pet chimp had to be shot recently.
I may not like the chimps as much as the orangutans, but I love the host of Escape to Chimp Eden so much I cannot stop watching.
On Orangutan Island, the host of the show rarely has to sedate an animal. She and her technicians are always amongst the apes. Even when a big bossy orangutan does something they conservationists don't want, they are able to simply scold him and lead him away by the hands. When the orangutans on that show fight, they bite, but mostly it looks like wrestling.
Compare this to Escape to Chimp Eden, where the host (who is drop dead sexy) appears to be taking his life in his hands every time he goes near these animals--even the ones who know and love him. The chimps seem to be way more brutal with each other, and even the baby chimps can have murderous tempers.
Orangutans are actually stronger than chimps, so I can think of no reason for this except that chimps seem to have a much darker character. I once held a baby chimp in my arms and fell in love with her, but after seeing her wild counterparts, I'm not so sure I like them. Unlike orangutans, chimps fight to the death for supremacy in their group and it's not hard to imagine why that pet chimp had to be shot recently.
I may not like the chimps as much as the orangutans, but I love the host of Escape to Chimp Eden so much I cannot stop watching.
- Mood:
amused
Last week, I accidentally sold my first full-length novel. Actually, I sold my first two full-length novels. When my agent called to tell me that I'd been offered a two-book contract, I hooted, called my family, posted something cryptic on Facebook and promptly went back to bed. No champagne, no dinner out. No, I toasted my success with pepto-bismol. This is because I was so sick with the stomach flu that I couldn't even muster the energy to brag on "the interwebz."
I plan to remedy that now ;)
I guess I always thought that the first book that I'd sell was one that I'd already written. That after years of obsessive writing and rewriting, I would place my precious completed manuscript on someone's desk and they would cradle it to their breasts with a sigh at my budding talent. And then all that would be needed were some revisions.
Yeah, that's not how it happened at all :P
It all started with Neil Gaiman. While I thought American Gods was brilliant, I never cared for the book. I liked the concept of it--it really resonated--but it failed for me as a character story. Certainly, I am no Neil Gaiman, but I found myself thinking about how I would have played with those meta-concepts differently.
To that end, I had an idea about a modern day gorgon, a mythos for our age. I made a few false starts with that story as pure speculative fiction when I realized that although it would be very atypical for the genre, it could actually be a paranormal romance. And thus the novella Midnight Medusa was born, and sold to Nocturne Bites. When I sold that novella, HQN also purchased a second short work.
Heartened by HQN's open-mindedness about genre-bending, I got back to work. In conceptualizing the sequel, I built on some of the themes of the first novella--that war makes monsters of us and that the lessons of our oldest myths are still relevant today. So, for the sequel, I wrote up an outline for a story about a knife-wielding nymph of the underworld.
I was contractually obligated to submit the outline, but in a matter of a few weeks I'd already written up the novella and was just about to submit it when HQN told my agent (the lovely Jennifer Schober) that they loved the idea so much they wanted to consider making it a full length novel, and could I please send a first chapter when it was written. Since it was already written, I submitted the first chapter the next day.
And based on this, HQN offered me a two-book contract.
Now, I just have to write them!
I plan to remedy that now ;)
I guess I always thought that the first book that I'd sell was one that I'd already written. That after years of obsessive writing and rewriting, I would place my precious completed manuscript on someone's desk and they would cradle it to their breasts with a sigh at my budding talent. And then all that would be needed were some revisions.
Yeah, that's not how it happened at all :P
It all started with Neil Gaiman. While I thought American Gods was brilliant, I never cared for the book. I liked the concept of it--it really resonated--but it failed for me as a character story. Certainly, I am no Neil Gaiman, but I found myself thinking about how I would have played with those meta-concepts differently.
To that end, I had an idea about a modern day gorgon, a mythos for our age. I made a few false starts with that story as pure speculative fiction when I realized that although it would be very atypical for the genre, it could actually be a paranormal romance. And thus the novella Midnight Medusa was born, and sold to Nocturne Bites. When I sold that novella, HQN also purchased a second short work.
Heartened by HQN's open-mindedness about genre-bending, I got back to work. In conceptualizing the sequel, I built on some of the themes of the first novella--that war makes monsters of us and that the lessons of our oldest myths are still relevant today. So, for the sequel, I wrote up an outline for a story about a knife-wielding nymph of the underworld.
I was contractually obligated to submit the outline, but in a matter of a few weeks I'd already written up the novella and was just about to submit it when HQN told my agent (the lovely Jennifer Schober) that they loved the idea so much they wanted to consider making it a full length novel, and could I please send a first chapter when it was written. Since it was already written, I submitted the first chapter the next day.
And based on this, HQN offered me a two-book contract.
Now, I just have to write them!
- Mood:
happy - Music:On The Horizon - Alphonsus
Scrivener is an affordable program for writers. As a tool to plot, keep track of notes, and visualize the structure of your novel, Scrivener has much to recommend it. But is it really asking too much that there be a page layout with page numbers?
I can't help but think that any professional writer needs to know how many pages he or she has written. For editing purposes alone, if an editor tells you there's a typo on page twelve, six lines down--Scrivener is going to be useless to you. And if you do your editing in a word-processing program, you would have to re-load the entire manuscript into Scrivener and break it up into its component parts again for revisions.
The second thing that really annoys me about Scrivener is its method of annotation. Do you need to make a comment to remind yourself to research a certain point, or to harken back to it later? Well, Scrivener puts it right in the middle of your manuscript with bright red text. There's a "ghost notes" mode in which it will be rendered a less obnoxious shade of faded grey-pink, but this does not fool the 'Speaking' feature on Mac which happily reads your notes along with your prose.
For the paranormal romances I've been writing, annotation isn't essential. But for Cleopatra's Daughter, for which I have more research and references than any human being should have to keep track of--this is a mess. Am I really going to have to resort to editing a 900 page novel in Microsoft Word?
Now, I know someone is going to say that Scrivener does its best considering what it is. But I submit that its PC competitor "Power Writer" does a much better, albeit less pretty, job. Power Writer doesn't have the corkboard or the image file capabilities, but it did let you move scenes around in a similar way and gave you page numbers and annotations to boot!
Alright, so, with that out of my system, I should note that I did go ahead and pay for and register Scrivener and it is useful to me. But now that I've learned its basic functionality, I can't help but complain bitterly that it has all kinds of bells and whistles, and yet I still need it to do more.
I can't help but think that any professional writer needs to know how many pages he or she has written. For editing purposes alone, if an editor tells you there's a typo on page twelve, six lines down--Scrivener is going to be useless to you. And if you do your editing in a word-processing program, you would have to re-load the entire manuscript into Scrivener and break it up into its component parts again for revisions.
The second thing that really annoys me about Scrivener is its method of annotation. Do you need to make a comment to remind yourself to research a certain point, or to harken back to it later? Well, Scrivener puts it right in the middle of your manuscript with bright red text. There's a "ghost notes" mode in which it will be rendered a less obnoxious shade of faded grey-pink, but this does not fool the 'Speaking' feature on Mac which happily reads your notes along with your prose.
For the paranormal romances I've been writing, annotation isn't essential. But for Cleopatra's Daughter, for which I have more research and references than any human being should have to keep track of--this is a mess. Am I really going to have to resort to editing a 900 page novel in Microsoft Word?
Now, I know someone is going to say that Scrivener does its best considering what it is. But I submit that its PC competitor "Power Writer" does a much better, albeit less pretty, job. Power Writer doesn't have the corkboard or the image file capabilities, but it did let you move scenes around in a similar way and gave you page numbers and annotations to boot!
Alright, so, with that out of my system, I should note that I did go ahead and pay for and register Scrivener and it is useful to me. But now that I've learned its basic functionality, I can't help but complain bitterly that it has all kinds of bells and whistles, and yet I still need it to do more.
- Mood:
annoyed
In the spirit of my year in review I've been setting some new goals, but I came across superviva.com and had way too much fun with it. This is a sort of short-term life list:
Things I Want To Do
What's fun about this site is that it has lots of ideas of things you might like to do, and almost as importantly, you can list things you have done. I kind of found this fulfilling:
Things I've Done
Things I Want To Do
- Make 10 recipes from the Sopranos Cookbook
- swim in the Mediterranean at midnight
- Cruise the entire length of the Nile
- host an outdoor bbq
- Host a luau
- Go to Italy
- Go to Greece
- make a list of 100 things that make me happy
- Go to Egypt
- eat lobster in Maine
- be a best selling author.
- go on a cruise with my family
- Make a positive difference in a child's life
- Say nothing negative at all about anything for a whole week
- Cruise through the Panama Canal
- go to New Orleans
- start a no-kill animal shelter
- Master a new yoga pose
- Have a HUGE 25th Wedding Anniversary Celebration/Party!
- Have a HUGE 50th Wedding Anniversary Celebration/Party!
- get hardwood floors in my house
What's fun about this site is that it has lots of ideas of things you might like to do, and almost as importantly, you can list things you have done. I kind of found this fulfilling:
Things I've Done
- Fall in love with a truly wonderful person who loves me
- Pay for the car behind me at the toll booth
- hold a monkey
- Swim with dolphins
- Get my Passport
- Go to Paris
- visit London
- visit Stonehenge
- write a love letter by hand
- watch the sun come up with my husband
- have a beautiful wedding
- get married in Las Vegas
- buy a house
- Ride on the top of a double-decker bus in England
- see the opera Carmen
- Go to Medieval Times dinner theater
- kiss a guy who is not expecting it
- Lose my virginity
- Play putt putt
- Finish writing a novel
- foster homeless kittens
- graduate from law school
- pass the Bar Exam
- graduate from college
- Attend a high tea
- be in a wedding
- Get past my wedding day without killing anyone
- Give a toast at someone's wedding
- Be a maid of honor in someones wedding.
- Mood: happy
Every year, I set some goals for myself. Last year I did pretty dismally--did I repeat my poor performance? Let's find out!
Now it's time to see how Adam and I did on our collective goals:
All in all, I would say this year was a big success. I've got my fingers crossed for the coming one and wish a Happy New Year to you all!
1. Expand my Social Circle
I did great with this goal by volunteering at the Baltimore County Democratic Party Headquarters this summer. I met some awesome new friends like Margie Brassil, Scott Sokol and his wife Judy, and Dan Ewald and Don Engle and Joanne Arnest. The list goes on. I was also unusually social this year by actually inviting my newer neighbors to the Annual Dray Cookie Party. I was also able--through Facebook of all things--to reconnect to some old friends too.
2. Complete NANOWRIMO
This year I cheated! Ok, so, the object of National Novel Writing Month is to write a 50K word manuscript. What happened was, I broke all kinds of rules--like the one that says you can only start a brand new draft. I didn't have time for that, so I started with some scraps of work that I had on Queen of Mauretania (the sequel to Cleopatra's Daughter). The second rule I broke was that I edited the manuscript--even if you decide you hate what you wrote the day before, you're not supposed to go back. I couldn't help myself. I had written a big bad scene, and in a fit of pique, I deleted it off to a scraps file. Well, when the Nanowrimo deadline started looming--you know how I am about deadlines, self-imposed or not--I really needed that scene back to hit the 50K mark. At the last minute, I put the scene back, then transferred the document into Word, only to realize that I was at least 1K words short! I have never written so fast, and just _barely_ made the midnight deadline, and only because I included plot headings in the count :P
3. Attend Maryland's Writer's Workshop
I was too busy with FiranCon, and thus, I did not complete this worthy goal. This coming year, though, we are putting off FiranCon until at least Labor Day, so . . .
4. Run Six TinyPlots on FiranMUX
I officially ran three. But I did oversee many smaller ones. When it came to my attention, FiranMUX really got the shaft this year and I feel really bad about it, but. . . I've kinda been busy!
5. Complete NANOEDMO.
Never did any manuscript of mine need more work than the one entitled Primary Partners which, upon completion of the first draft, was so embarrassing that I refused to show it to anyone. Luckily for me, I completed March's National Novel Editing Month challenge, and turned it into something real. Fifty hours of straight out editing, no interruptions is a harder feat to accomplish than you would suspect, and I was very proud of myself for doing it.
6. Finish and Market Rites of Passage aka The Fire, the Wolf and the Wind
I did finish this Firan-based novel, and even did market it briefly, receiving an encouraging note from LUNA suggesting some revisions, but that process was short-circuited by my being offered representation for Cleopatra's Daughter instead.
Right now, the plans for this book are to polish it up for the agent to read, but since I now march to the beat of my agent's drummer, it's not the highest priority.
7. Write New Short Story
I finished Pottage for Patriots this year, a story about magic, patriotism and food porn. I'm very proud of it, even if it's _too grisly_ for some people's tastes. I mean seriously, if I can stomach it--and we know how notoriously unequipped for spec fic weirdness I can be--I expect others to buck up!
8. Enter a Contest
I entered Pottage for Patriots in the Writers of the Future Contest, where it got no love, because they clearly don't recognize greatness when they see it. I also entered Primary Partners in the Golden Heart contest. It would be nice to win. Keep your fingers crossed.
9. Research Speechwriting
I did. I even met a speechwriter for our county executive. And what I learned is apparently it is a job people fall into rather than seek. I still am interested though.
10. Sell a New Story
Gorgons rule, my friends! Technically, Midnight Medusa is not a short story--it's a speculative fiction novella. A paranormal romance, no less. But it sold to Harlequin and I'm having a blast working with the folks over there.
11. Get an Agent
DONE! (And she's awesome.)
12. Elect a Democratic President
Yes we did!
Now it's time to see how Adam and I did on our collective goals:
1. Convene FiranCon and Run Live Action Role-Play
On Memorial Day, as is our custom, Adam and I gathered with myriad Firanites in Baltimore for a weekend of fun and frolicking. I recall at least one R-Rated Wii Bowling Tournament, and my slapdash LARP worked out pretty well. I got lots of pictures--including one of Leia Barber in her famous Goth Catholic Girl outfit.
2. Replace Warped and Drafty Front Door
We finally took the plunge, plunking down our tax return to get the entire front door replaced, and added a storm door to boot. Let's hope that our BG&E bills are smaller now! The first paint we chose didn't match the original door, and so I went sneaking into my neighbor's yard with piles of paint chips to see if we could find the right one. By the time we were done, we had replaced the kickplates, the doorbell, and had used shiny brass paint to refinish the numbers on our house. We would be ever so much prouder of ourselves if the doorbell actually worked . . .
3. Replace Linoleum in Bathrooms
When we discovered problems with our master bathroom shower, we sidelined this in favor of replacing our shower in the coming year--a project so daunting that it even gave my handyman father pause.
4. Paint Bathrooms
If any of you have seen my fun Egyptian-themed bathroom recently, you will notice the clean coat of Eternal Beige trimmed with glossy Ultra White. You will also notice that the holes in the wall have all been repaired. Adam and I knocked this home repair out of the park--imagine us, successfully repairing drywall. I know! We must be getting great at this painting thing, because in lieu of the other three bathrooms, we tackled the Sun Room off the kitchen, doing a minor (and frugal) remodel in the process that makes me smile every day.
5. Take an Adult Vacation
We had big plans to go on a cruise with my sister and brother-in-law this year, but when the economy tanked it seemed like a spectacularly bad idea. Instead, we regressed to pajama clad days eating leftover pizza and holiday cookies. Adam spent his time off playing Spore, and I spent mine trying to set up my new computer and (thanks to Sarahscott Brett's overwhelming generosity) a new-to-me laptop. However, Adam and I did take one spur-of-the-minute weekend-away to Colonial Williamsburg this summer, during which I got to spend one blissful hour in a faux river and another with Adam laying in the sun with a frosty drink by the wave pool. More of that please!
All in all, I would say this year was a big success. I've got my fingers crossed for the coming one and wish a Happy New Year to you all!
- Location:Home
- Mood:
accomplished - Music:It's All Been Done - Barenaked Ladies
This is a pretty amazing article. I'm particularly struck by this paragraph:
I know the counter-argument well -- that we need the rough stuff for the truly hard cases, such as battle-hardened core leaders of al-Qaeda, not just run-of-the-mill Iraqi insurgents. But that's not always true: We turned several hard cases, including some foreign fighters, by using our new techniques. A few of them never abandoned the jihadist cause but still gave up critical information. One actually told me, "I thought you would torture me, and when you didn't, I decided that everything I was told about Americans was wrong. That's why I decided to cooperate."
As holiday season closes in, e-books exploding in popularity
There are a number of trends that have skyrocketed in popularity this year despite the otherwise muted economy. One of those trends is the growth of e-books, popularized by the Amazon Kindle and aided by the already-established popularity of Apple's iPhone. As the 2008 holiday season descends upon us, news about both devices continue to drive a shift that historians have long feared: people are ditching the printed page for handheld screens and loving it.
This morning Adam and I were planning on leaving for Ohio for the holidays when I received a very nice phone call from my agent, Jennifer Schober, who shall henceforth be known as The Best Agent Evah (tm).
She let me know that Harlequin wanted to buy my paranormal romance novella, and that they were offering me a contract for the sequel as well. I was so surprised, I didn't know how to react. I must say that I was very calm and collected for me, considering that I wanted to scream and run around the room.
The revisions are due January 15th. The outline for the next book is due sometime in March, and the sequel is due in July.
I am tickled, right down to my toes.
She let me know that Harlequin wanted to buy my paranormal romance novella, and that they were offering me a contract for the sequel as well. I was so surprised, I didn't know how to react. I must say that I was very calm and collected for me, considering that I wanted to scream and run around the room.
The revisions are due January 15th. The outline for the next book is due sometime in March, and the sequel is due in July.
I am tickled, right down to my toes.
Look, I get it. Losing an election is hard. Trust me, Democrats know. We've lost all but four in my lifetime. But you didn't win the popular vote and lose the electoral college--a painful experience. You didn't lose by a hairsbreadth, leaving you feeling cheated and suspicious of the legitimacy of the new President. And you didn't lose because voters were somehow fooled into forgetting they are conservatives. Despite what talk radio is telling you, you did not lose because you weren't conservative enough. If the election itself doesn't convince you, a new poll expresses that, at least for a little while, the vast majority of voters want to try progressive policies for a change--more voters even than actually voted for Obama.
So, the country is going to go center-left for a while, and lucky for you, you don't have to be afraid of permenancy. Why? Because you packed the courts so full of young, right wingers, that even if President-Elect Obama gets to appoint three Supreme Court justices in his first term, the ideological composition of the court isn't going to change unless Anthony Kennedy has a sudden left-wing conversion.
So chill out, kick back, and let's hold hands and sing Kumbaya.
So, the country is going to go center-left for a while, and lucky for you, you don't have to be afraid of permenancy. Why? Because you packed the courts so full of young, right wingers, that even if President-Elect Obama gets to appoint three Supreme Court justices in his first term, the ideological composition of the court isn't going to change unless Anthony Kennedy has a sudden left-wing conversion.
So chill out, kick back, and let's hold hands and sing Kumbaya.
- Mood:
chipper
Of all the pictures you see of Obama, he generally is a cool customer. Not a lot of emotion. It fascinates me that this picture of Obama was taken during McCain's concession speech:
There are a whole lot of captions I can think of, but I would love to have been a fly on the wall of his mind that night.
There are a whole lot of captions I can think of, but I would love to have been a fly on the wall of his mind that night.
I'm kind of a no-nonsense person. Or at least, I like to think I am. I have even been known to get through an entire episode of Extreme Home Makeover without bursting into tears. However, my work recently has got me pretty emotional. Bear with me here even if you're absolutely sick to death of politics . . .
As part of my volunteer work, I've been coordinating rides for voters in Baltimore County on election day. I speak with a lot of wonderful people, a lot of cranky people, and a few people who just break my heart.
One of the men I spoke to was very elderly, and had only recently developed cataracts and wasn't able to drive any longer. He didn't think he was going to be able to vote, and when I told him I'd make sure someone would pick him up, he got all weepy, then I got all weepy . . .
A few phone calls later, it was a man who has cancer and isn't able to get to the polls by himself because he's weak from chemotherapy. He asked me to pray that he'll live through election day.
Then there was an elderly lady who was embarassed to be asking for a ride. When I told her that her driver would pick her up at her house, she got a little bit upset, and said that she was sorry to be such a burden, she didn't like being dependent on people, and she could just walk to the corner and wait for the driver there.
These folks know--or at least they should know--that the outcome of the Presidential Election in Maryland is probably a done deal, but it means something to them to be able to participate in the process--and that's absolutely sacred to me.
So, even though I might grouse and complain about crazy voters who don't remember what day the election is, or the way my phone has been ringing off the hook, or the fact that I've been so busy that life seems to be spiralling out of control, the truth is that this may just be the best thing I've ever done.
As part of my volunteer work, I've been coordinating rides for voters in Baltimore County on election day. I speak with a lot of wonderful people, a lot of cranky people, and a few people who just break my heart.
One of the men I spoke to was very elderly, and had only recently developed cataracts and wasn't able to drive any longer. He didn't think he was going to be able to vote, and when I told him I'd make sure someone would pick him up, he got all weepy, then I got all weepy . . .
A few phone calls later, it was a man who has cancer and isn't able to get to the polls by himself because he's weak from chemotherapy. He asked me to pray that he'll live through election day.
Then there was an elderly lady who was embarassed to be asking for a ride. When I told her that her driver would pick her up at her house, she got a little bit upset, and said that she was sorry to be such a burden, she didn't like being dependent on people, and she could just walk to the corner and wait for the driver there.
These folks know--or at least they should know--that the outcome of the Presidential Election in Maryland is probably a done deal, but it means something to them to be able to participate in the process--and that's absolutely sacred to me.
So, even though I might grouse and complain about crazy voters who don't remember what day the election is, or the way my phone has been ringing off the hook, or the fact that I've been so busy that life seems to be spiralling out of control, the truth is that this may just be the best thing I've ever done.
- Mood:
thankful
This is really worth it, trust me. Press Play.
I'm pretty critical when it comes to sci-fi; I think most of it has the emotional complexity of a gnat. However, I have to give a big thumbs up to the new drama "My Own Worst Enemy" which is well-written, well-conceived, and superbly acted by Christian Slater.
The main character learns that he is an induced split personality--a false personality, in fact--to cover up for his "real" life. But the more he learns, the more he hates himself and it's rapidly spiralling into an all out war between the two personas.
Adam and I are very impressed. This is definitely a show to check out.
The main character learns that he is an induced split personality--a false personality, in fact--to cover up for his "real" life. But the more he learns, the more he hates himself and it's rapidly spiralling into an all out war between the two personas.
Adam and I are very impressed. This is definitely a show to check out.
I didn't want to post until it was official, but since I just signed the contract and put it in the mail, I can now tell you that the wonderful Jennifer Schober at Spencerhill has offered me representation based on my submission of Cleopatra's Daughter. I was eager for her to represent me because she focuses on exactly the areas that I like to read and write, but once we talked on the phone, I realized she was also a spectacularly fun person to talk to. I think we're going to make a great team.
I wanted to give her the best draft I could produce, so I made sure to polish up Cleopatra's Daughter. I made some pretty serious structural changes--deciding that I wanted to stick closer to historical fiction than alternative history. But in the end, I absolutely love the end result, and I'm so grateful that my agent loves it too.
I think she was a little surprised to realize it was the first of a trilogy, and so she's asked me to write up a detailed outline of the plot arc for the next two books. She also wants a polished first chapter of the sequel. And all of this in the coming week or two. So even though I'm now swamped, it's kind of wonderful to have someone who knows what they're doing giving me marching orders and coming up with plans of attack.
I wanted to give her the best draft I could produce, so I made sure to polish up Cleopatra's Daughter. I made some pretty serious structural changes--deciding that I wanted to stick closer to historical fiction than alternative history. But in the end, I absolutely love the end result, and I'm so grateful that my agent loves it too.
I think she was a little surprised to realize it was the first of a trilogy, and so she's asked me to write up a detailed outline of the plot arc for the next two books. She also wants a polished first chapter of the sequel. And all of this in the coming week or two. So even though I'm now swamped, it's kind of wonderful to have someone who knows what they're doing giving me marching orders and coming up with plans of attack.
- Mood:
ecstatic
Ok, it's that time of year again for those of you who say, ever want Adam and I to contact you if we should have a party or move or have an emergency or have a baby or want to wish you a happy holiday or just call you to say hello!
If you've moved recently, we need your new address and contact information. If you haven't heard from us in forever, we probably need it even if you haven't moved (I'm talking to you, Michael Peet!). You can either post the information in this thread, or you can email me: steph at stephaniedray dot com.
If you've moved recently, we need your new address and contact information. If you haven't heard from us in forever, we probably need it even if you haven't moved (I'm talking to you, Michael Peet!). You can either post the information in this thread, or you can email me: steph at stephaniedray dot com.
- Mood:
productive
- Mood:
aggravated
Sometimes I think the average American has never taken a history class. Or maybe didn't pay attention when they did. Now, I don't fault them for not studying all the legal cases of the New Deal in which the American public already hashed out these arguments about unrestrained capitalism, child labor, monopolies, and robber barons. But I do fault them for not understanding that just as America has never been a pure democracy, nor are we a purely capitalistic society. Sometimes we regulate. And for good reason.
Now, if your product is Cabbage Patch Dolls, there's really no harm in letting the market do its thing. There are plenty of competitors in the toy industry, and even if there weren't, nobody is going to die if there's a shortage. There are no implications on national security or infrastructure when it comes to most of the products in the marketplace, and pure capitalism works great when it comes to widgets.
But then you have stuff like energy, for example. Every single place we've deregulated the energy industry in this country it has been a huge disaster. This is because energy is, at least at present, mostly a natural monopoly. And also because it is necessary to carry on life as we know it.
Imagine my surprise today to read Ben Stein, with whom I agree on almost nothing, saying largely the same thing. Regulation isn't the problem. The haphazard drunk disregard for the role of government in keeping an eye on the store is to blame.
Now, if your product is Cabbage Patch Dolls, there's really no harm in letting the market do its thing. There are plenty of competitors in the toy industry, and even if there weren't, nobody is going to die if there's a shortage. There are no implications on national security or infrastructure when it comes to most of the products in the marketplace, and pure capitalism works great when it comes to widgets.
But then you have stuff like energy, for example. Every single place we've deregulated the energy industry in this country it has been a huge disaster. This is because energy is, at least at present, mostly a natural monopoly. And also because it is necessary to carry on life as we know it.
Imagine my surprise today to read Ben Stein, with whom I agree on almost nothing, saying largely the same thing. Regulation isn't the problem. The haphazard drunk disregard for the role of government in keeping an eye on the store is to blame.
He apparently sponsored the economic patriotism act. Kinda something folks in Ohio and Pennsylvania might want to know...
- Mood:
confused
I saw this piece in the Guardian. I offer it without comment or opinion:
One thing is clear from the history of trade: protectionism makes you rich
- Mood:
contemplative
I don't often do this, but today a friend of mine wrote a beautiful eulogy to his Uncle. It made me burst into tears. It spoke to me so much about the quiet heroes that come into our lives, I thought it might move you too, so you might want to peek at it.
So, a lot of my friends are upset that John McCain, (who they were under the mistaken impression hitherto was at least a fairly reasonable conservative) has chosen a fringe right Republican as his running mate. They are even more upset that Sarah Palin is giving a certain pastiche of celebrity to an otherwise outdated candidate who promises to change nothing in this country except to more honestly take us in the wrong direction. My friends are angry. They're incredulous. What about me?
I'm working.
I volunteer several days a week at the Baltimore County Democratic Party Headquarters. I coordinate volunteers, I stuff envelopes, I organize neighborhood leaders; I do all the little things that need to get done to help Barack Obama become the next President of the United States. There are less than sixty days until the election, and I want to feel good about how I spent these days. I don't want to have any regrets.
Make sure you don't have any either.
I'm working.
I volunteer several days a week at the Baltimore County Democratic Party Headquarters. I coordinate volunteers, I stuff envelopes, I organize neighborhood leaders; I do all the little things that need to get done to help Barack Obama become the next President of the United States. There are less than sixty days until the election, and I want to feel good about how I spent these days. I don't want to have any regrets.
Make sure you don't have any either.
So, a lot of my friends are upset that John McCain, who they were under the impression hitherto, was a fairly reasonable conservative has chosen a fringe right Republican as his running mate. They are even more upset that Sarah Palin is giving a cerain pastiche of celebrity to an otherwise outdated candidate who promises to change nothing in this country except to more honestly take us in the wrong direction. My friends are angry. They're incredulous. What about me?
I'm working.
I volunteer several days a week at the Baltimore County Democratic Party Headquarters. I coordinate volunteers, I stuff envelopes, I organize neighborhood leaders; I do all the little things that need to get done to help Barack Obama become the next President of the United States. There are less than sixty days until the election, and I want to feel good about how I spent these days. I don't want to have any regrets.
Make sure you don't have any either.
I'm working.
I volunteer several days a week at the Baltimore County Democratic Party Headquarters. I coordinate volunteers, I stuff envelopes, I organize neighborhood leaders; I do all the little things that need to get done to help Barack Obama become the next President of the United States. There are less than sixty days until the election, and I want to feel good about how I spent these days. I don't want to have any regrets.
Make sure you don't have any either.
- Mood:
determined
I just wrote a 13,000 word Novelette in three days.
As you may know, I'm a very slow writer when it comes to fiction. I take almost as long a time crafting things as I do editing them, and this has been a real detriment to my career. The few times that something has burned a hole in me to get it down on the page, the end result was wonderful. In fact, both my pro and semi-pro published stories came together in a fury like that, and so did Pottage for Patriots, which I have some confidence will sell.
So anyway, when I saw a publisher's call for new authors with a paranormal romance of under 15K, I had to give it a shot. Novelette's are a difficult length to sell, and require a type of brevity that I'm only now starting to master, but don't require a major investment so there wasn't a lot I had to lose.
In the end, I had an idea for a romance about gorgons, war-crimes and sexual-inhibition, and as unlikely a subject matter as that may seem, I think the manuscript might rock. For the past three days, I've chained myself to the computer, typing at a furious pace as one scene flowed into another, and now I feel like I need a cigarette.
On the other hand, I think I'll have a hard time getting any of my writing groups to critique it. It's certainly Spec Fic, but it absolutely follows the conventions of the romance genre, complete with steamy love scenes which, for some reason, apparently flow off the tip of my proverbial pen with much greater ease when I'm writing something really upsetting.
- Mood: accomplished
Many of the gold medal winning gymnasts look like amateurish hacks this Olympics, and it's not their fault. The new scoring system encourages them to try skills they can't accomplish, because the difficulty is more important than the execution. The end result? People are winning gold medals for falling on their faces.
The new scoring system has allowed for much more manipulation of the underlying technical score since they can't change the base difficulty as it's already pre-calculated. It has taken much of the beauty out of a sport that the experts once made look effortless and elegant. These Olympic performances have looked like high school gym meets. It's been embarrassing and created some ridiculous results. I have seen very few clean routines. In fact, the men's winning routines were sloppy. Worse, the new scoring system seems to be turning all-around gymnasts into an endangered species, and encouraging specialization. I don't think this is good for the sport.
It looks like a lot of the coaches don't think so either. Mary Lou Retton hates it, and so do Nadia Comaneci and Bart Conner. So I'm in good company with my Olympic Class complaint.
The new scoring system has allowed for much more manipulation of the underlying technical score since they can't change the base difficulty as it's already pre-calculated. It has taken much of the beauty out of a sport that the experts once made look effortless and elegant. These Olympic performances have looked like high school gym meets. It's been embarrassing and created some ridiculous results. I have seen very few clean routines. In fact, the men's winning routines were sloppy. Worse, the new scoring system seems to be turning all-around gymnasts into an endangered species, and encouraging specialization. I don't think this is good for the sport.
It looks like a lot of the coaches don't think so either. Mary Lou Retton hates it, and so do Nadia Comaneci and Bart Conner. So I'm in good company with my Olympic Class complaint.
In 1984 I fell in love with gymnastics. For many years, I was obsessed. My very first novel (which is very bad) was a speculative fiction book about genetic engineering and the sport. I've really been enjoying watching the gymnasts in the Olympics this year. It's about the only Olympic sport that can hold my attention completely. But the sport has changed. The scoring and rules are different. All the gymnasts look like babies--especially the Chinese girls.
It got me nostalgic, and I wondered what happened to some of my old favorites. Two of my favorite gymnasts actually got married. Their story is kind of fairytale, and I found these pictures of them with their son. How beautiful they look! But just for a little historical perspective... here's Bart Conner winning his Olympic Gold, back when our gymnast's uniforms were simple:
And here's Nadia scoring a perfect ten.
Here's when they first kissed:
And here they are now:
It got me nostalgic, and I wondered what happened to some of my old favorites. Two of my favorite gymnasts actually got married. Their story is kind of fairytale, and I found these pictures of them with their son. How beautiful they look! But just for a little historical perspective... here's Bart Conner winning his Olympic Gold, back when our gymnast's uniforms were simple:
And here's Nadia scoring a perfect ten.
Here's when they first kissed:
And here they are now:
Lukewarm No More
You must understand, I tend to be lukewarm about superhero movies. I watch them because I enjoy speculative fiction, but I find them universally trite. I thought it was just part of the genre--like the bold swaths of colored ink that fill comic book pages, such movies had to contain simple lessons and obvious conflicts. They were not serious movies, not even the best of them. Or so I thought.
Then I saw "The Dark Knight."
You will have heard that it's good. You will have heard that Heath Ledger turns in such a performance as the Joker that his interpretation should now define the role. You will have heard that it's a genuine dramatic film that just happens to star men in masks. All of this is true.
You will also have heard that it's not a great movie. I didn't love this movie because of occasionally stilted dialog, ridiculous rasping from Christian Bale when in Batman regalia, and tepid love scenes. Harvey Dent's evolution isn't satisfying and there are some ragged edges to the plotline that leave the audience confused. The movie could have used a more ruthless editor. This is also true.
But what you may not have heard is that this movie is high art and one of the finest political commentaries written on the moral compromises we've made since 9/11.
Are You Sure it's Not Fascist?
There are those who will argue that not all movies have a political point of view, especially not fun summer romps, and ask the mocking question that the movie poses itself, "Why so serious?" But "The Dark Knight" makes no secret of its ambitions. From the crumbling building behind Batman in the publication posters to the overt reference to warrantless wiretapping, this movie is an explicit commentary on the times we live in.
"The Dark Knight" approaches its topic from all angles, widely spattering moral conflicts on the screen like buckshot. The movie has a definite, and I would have sworn, obvious point of view.
I came away sure that this movie is anti-torture, anti-vigilanti, anti-totalitarianism, but it makes its points so obliquely that reviewers are arguing about it all over the internet. The Wall Street Journal actually asserts that Batman represents George Bush who must ride off into that good night while leaving us with the shiny but secretly empty Obamican Hope. Matt Yglesias even thought the movie had fascist overtones. Meanwhile, conservative writers whine,
I left the movie quite moved by "The Dark Knight's" demonstration of how terrorism seeks to undermine law, stability, and essential goodness. That terrorism works only when we let it make monsters of us. So I was shocked to find that my husband thought the movie was saying that evil was justified and necessary when facing evil.
Brilliant as my husband is, he is agreeing with the Wall Street Journal, and therefore assuredly wrong.
The constant refrain of the movie is "Die a hero, or live long enough to see yourself become a villain." And I think the writers mean that literally. If you won't risk your life for your values, then you're not a hero. And if you resort to evil to fight villainy, then you're a villain. Maybe you do have to commit evil to survive, but it's still evil, it's still illegal, and it needs to be. Even Batman knows this.
I think a deep reading of the movie demonstrates a pattern: Every time torture is employed it fails miserably and the Joker wins. Every time corruption is condoned, every time the rules are compromised, it creates an escalation in the violence. When Batman makes a selfish choice, it ultimately costs him badly because evil is one step ahead. The vigilantism exhibited by the citizens in Gotham, whether impersonating batman or trying to take matters into their own hands, goes badly awry and is roundly condemned by Batman himself. Moreover, some of the audience in our theater actually cheered when a hardened criminal shows himself to be more noble than the "security moms" in the other boat. In fact, if the movie had wanted to prove the Wall Street Journal's point, then the entire boat sequence would have ended quite differently than it did.
Fight villainy on its own terms, and you'll become a villain. You'll lose everything that matters to you, as Batman does. That's the moral of this story; it's no accident that Alfred tells Bruce Wayne "Some men just like to watch the world burn" then recalls that the way the English dealt with bandits in Burma was to burn it.
The Artistry
I admit that the messages in this film are shadowed; the writers show rather than tell. This movie doesn't lecture you, it presents moral quandaries that make you draw your own conclusion. I think this is why it succeeds where other movies that have taken on our contemporary political issues have failed.
Best of all, the movie pulls this off not by upping the sensationalism, but by bringing the problems back to earth. In comparison to other superhero films, "The Dark Knight" is CGI minimalist--and the Joker does most of his villainy with simple things like gasoline, bullets, and psychological games. Gotham no longer looks like a cartoon city; it looks like Chicago. And the real hero of this film is neither Harvey Dent nor Bruce Wayne, but an everyman, unsung and unassuming: Commissioner Gordon, whose basic decency derives from small flaws and ordinary courage.
I will say that it's a damned brave film that nearly undermines the entire foundation of superhero legends in the process of making what is ultimately a grown up tale about the human condition and a haunting tragedy.
Final Thoughts
The Joker terrified me and Heath Ledger deserves a posthumous Oscar. I will have to watch "The Patriot" and "10 Things I Hate About You" at least a hundred times to erase this new and ghoulish face of Heath Ledger from my brain. I don't want to remember him this way.
You must understand, I tend to be lukewarm about superhero movies. I watch them because I enjoy speculative fiction, but I find them universally trite. I thought it was just part of the genre--like the bold swaths of colored ink that fill comic book pages, such movies had to contain simple lessons and obvious conflicts. They were not serious movies, not even the best of them. Or so I thought.
Then I saw "The Dark Knight."
You will have heard that it's good. You will have heard that Heath Ledger turns in such a performance as the Joker that his interpretation should now define the role. You will have heard that it's a genuine dramatic film that just happens to star men in masks. All of this is true.
You will also have heard that it's not a great movie. I didn't love this movie because of occasionally stilted dialog, ridiculous rasping from Christian Bale when in Batman regalia, and tepid love scenes. Harvey Dent's evolution isn't satisfying and there are some ragged edges to the plotline that leave the audience confused. The movie could have used a more ruthless editor. This is also true.
But what you may not have heard is that this movie is high art and one of the finest political commentaries written on the moral compromises we've made since 9/11.
Are You Sure it's Not Fascist?
There are those who will argue that not all movies have a political point of view, especially not fun summer romps, and ask the mocking question that the movie poses itself, "Why so serious?" But "The Dark Knight" makes no secret of its ambitions. From the crumbling building behind Batman in the publication posters to the overt reference to warrantless wiretapping, this movie is an explicit commentary on the times we live in.
"The Dark Knight" approaches its topic from all angles, widely spattering moral conflicts on the screen like buckshot. The movie has a definite, and I would have sworn, obvious point of view.
I came away sure that this movie is anti-torture, anti-vigilanti, anti-totalitarianism, but it makes its points so obliquely that reviewers are arguing about it all over the internet. The Wall Street Journal actually asserts that Batman represents George Bush who must ride off into that good night while leaving us with the shiny but secretly empty Obamican Hope. Matt Yglesias even thought the movie had fascist overtones. Meanwhile, conservative writers whine,
"The film champions the antiwar coalition’s claim that, in having a war on terror, you create the conditions for more terror. We are shown that innocent people died because of Batman - and he falls for it. Here is a Batman consumed with liberal guilt and self-loathing. I wanted to scream: 'No, you Guardian-reading freak, don’t you see? It’s the Joker’s fault, not yours.' But I knew I would never reach him, for today’s heroes want to be zeroes."
I left the movie quite moved by "The Dark Knight's" demonstration of how terrorism seeks to undermine law, stability, and essential goodness. That terrorism works only when we let it make monsters of us. So I was shocked to find that my husband thought the movie was saying that evil was justified and necessary when facing evil.
Brilliant as my husband is, he is agreeing with the Wall Street Journal, and therefore assuredly wrong.
The constant refrain of the movie is "Die a hero, or live long enough to see yourself become a villain." And I think the writers mean that literally. If you won't risk your life for your values, then you're not a hero. And if you resort to evil to fight villainy, then you're a villain. Maybe you do have to commit evil to survive, but it's still evil, it's still illegal, and it needs to be. Even Batman knows this.
I think a deep reading of the movie demonstrates a pattern: Every time torture is employed it fails miserably and the Joker wins. Every time corruption is condoned, every time the rules are compromised, it creates an escalation in the violence. When Batman makes a selfish choice, it ultimately costs him badly because evil is one step ahead. The vigilantism exhibited by the citizens in Gotham, whether impersonating batman or trying to take matters into their own hands, goes badly awry and is roundly condemned by Batman himself. Moreover, some of the audience in our theater actually cheered when a hardened criminal shows himself to be more noble than the "security moms" in the other boat. In fact, if the movie had wanted to prove the Wall Street Journal's point, then the entire boat sequence would have ended quite differently than it did.
Fight villainy on its own terms, and you'll become a villain. You'll lose everything that matters to you, as Batman does. That's the moral of this story; it's no accident that Alfred tells Bruce Wayne "Some men just like to watch the world burn" then recalls that the way the English dealt with bandits in Burma was to burn it.
The Artistry
I admit that the messages in this film are shadowed; the writers show rather than tell. This movie doesn't lecture you, it presents moral quandaries that make you draw your own conclusion. I think this is why it succeeds where other movies that have taken on our contemporary political issues have failed.
Best of all, the movie pulls this off not by upping the sensationalism, but by bringing the problems back to earth. In comparison to other superhero films, "The Dark Knight" is CGI minimalist--and the Joker does most of his villainy with simple things like gasoline, bullets, and psychological games. Gotham no longer looks like a cartoon city; it looks like Chicago. And the real hero of this film is neither Harvey Dent nor Bruce Wayne, but an everyman, unsung and unassuming: Commissioner Gordon, whose basic decency derives from small flaws and ordinary courage.
I will say that it's a damned brave film that nearly undermines the entire foundation of superhero legends in the process of making what is ultimately a grown up tale about the human condition and a haunting tragedy.
Final Thoughts
The Joker terrified me and Heath Ledger deserves a posthumous Oscar. I will have to watch "The Patriot" and "10 Things I Hate About You" at least a hundred times to erase this new and ghoulish face of Heath Ledger from my brain. I don't want to remember him this way.
My story Limbo appeared in Issue 8 of Orson Scott Card's Intergalactic Medicine Show, and the reviews are in:
“Limbo” is a warm and wonderful treat and is the highlight of this issue. -- Jim Steel from The Fix
“Limbo” is a warm and wonderful treat and is the highlight of this issue. -- Jim Steel from The Fix
- Mood:
content
As the World Turns
Every year, I disappear for two months to prepare for FiranCon. April and May are a social wasteland for me. Then I spend all June recovering, and trying to catch up with everything that went to hell during the spring. This is a fairly annoying pattern, because Spring and Early Summer are usually a time when there are lots of things I want to participate in (like family holidays, writing conventions and the like). To that end, I think Adam and I are of a mind to attempt to shift FiranCon to Labor Day next year if possible. At any rate, FiranCon was a success, even with my more "half-hearted" LARP. I got to see old friends, made new ones, and came back more energized than I expected to be to run things on the game.
Economizing
Adam and I are able to live on one regular salary in part because I'm relatively frugal. But this new economy is really challenging me. Since we don't get groceries delivered anymore, I find it really difficult to stick to our grocery budget. The other day I was super careful about what I put in the buggy--I didn't add anything that we didn't "need." There was no impulse shopping. And I still went over budget by rather a lot. Groceries are so much more than they used to be that some of my family favorite recipes now give me pause. And I'm realizing I'm going to have to give myself a much stricter definition of "need."
For some things, that's easy. Take cleaning products, for instance. I've found that a homemade vinegar cleaning solution works better than any cleaner I've ever bought at the store, so I probably won't ever buy windex or any other multi-purpose cleaner again.
On the other hand, there are some wasteful habits that I know I need to give up. Like pre-moistened facial wipes. Ok, there's no reason I can't wash my face at the sink with a washcloth and warm water like a normal person. No wasteful disposable cloth, no chemicals, etcetera. But for whatever reason, I loathe doing this, and the best way to get me to clean my face at night is a container of those wipes by the bed. This is a small and stupid indulgence that I need to give up. Bah.
Hearth & Home
Adam and I tried container gardening this year. I killed off three basil plants by May. Two remaining basil plants are sickly. A deer ate the tomato plant but it's trying to fight its way back. As it turns out, the only two plants that have earned their keep so far are the parsley and the chives. I use them in cooking all the time and it's nice to just go onto the patio and snip some. The value of the rest remains to be seen.
Our house is almost nine years old, which means that it is long overdue for having the interior painted. We would really like to have the house finished by the end of the year, which means a lot of weekends of moving furniture, putting up painters tape, and keeping the cats from stealing our brushes, etcetera. We kicked off this ambitious project this weekend by painting our basement bathroom, which, up until a month ago, had a lot of damage and holes in the plasterboard (long story--don't ask). I have to say, we did a near perfect job and it has given us confidence to tackle the must more difficult jobs like the sun room, the stairwell, the basement and remaining bathrooms.
Health
I haven't been very good with following my low carb way of eating the past few weeks. Before, during, and immediately after FiranCon it was Cheat City for me. But now it's time to get back on the wagon. Luckily, I have a new motivator to help me along: Wii Fit.
I'll be frank: I hate exercising. There are a thousand things I would rather be doing--I would rather mop the floor than sit on a stationary bike. I've never been one of those fortunate souls who get an adrenaline rush from working out. Moreover, I never see any concrete progress, so it seemed rather pointless.
But wii fit changes that. The board gives you such precise feedback on what you're doing, you can see your muscles getting incrementally stronger every day. And with yoga, many of the poses I simply could not do when I started, I'm now almost achieving. (And by the way, Yoga is so much harder than it looks.)
The interactive nature of the feedback tells you if you're keeping your balance, if you're doing it properly, and helps you isolate the right muscles in a way that no trainer has ever managed with me. The games are fun; you often forget that you're exercising. And though the aerobic games leave something to be desired--it's the real weakness of the system--I do work up a sweat.
The first time I tried the "jogging" session, I couldn't finish. I had to stop and hunch over to catch my breath. The next night, I dragged my sorry butt over the finish line. The third night, I finished the course comfortably. The fourth night, I did the course twice. This sort of immediate progress is really motivating to me.
I worry that these games are going to get boring. I already want to punch the trainers for repeating the same lines over and over. However, hopefully by the time I've worn out these games, Nintendo will have made new games to accompany the wii board.
I've never _looked forward_ to exercise before. But sometimes I wake up and think, "Oooh, lemme go jump on the wii board before breakfast and beat my high score!"
Conclusion
So there you have it. This is likely to remain a busy month for me as I catch up on neglected duties and paperwork. I should be back to my sociable self by July. And in the meantime, I plan to enjoy every minute of the summer!
Every year, I disappear for two months to prepare for FiranCon. April and May are a social wasteland for me. Then I spend all June recovering, and trying to catch up with everything that went to hell during the spring. This is a fairly annoying pattern, because Spring and Early Summer are usually a time when there are lots of things I want to participate in (like family holidays, writing conventions and the like). To that end, I think Adam and I are of a mind to attempt to shift FiranCon to Labor Day next year if possible. At any rate, FiranCon was a success, even with my more "half-hearted" LARP. I got to see old friends, made new ones, and came back more energized than I expected to be to run things on the game.
Economizing
Adam and I are able to live on one regular salary in part because I'm relatively frugal. But this new economy is really challenging me. Since we don't get groceries delivered anymore, I find it really difficult to stick to our grocery budget. The other day I was super careful about what I put in the buggy--I didn't add anything that we didn't "need." There was no impulse shopping. And I still went over budget by rather a lot. Groceries are so much more than they used to be that some of my family favorite recipes now give me pause. And I'm realizing I'm going to have to give myself a much stricter definition of "need."
For some things, that's easy. Take cleaning products, for instance. I've found that a homemade vinegar cleaning solution works better than any cleaner I've ever bought at the store, so I probably won't ever buy windex or any other multi-purpose cleaner again.
On the other hand, there are some wasteful habits that I know I need to give up. Like pre-moistened facial wipes. Ok, there's no reason I can't wash my face at the sink with a washcloth and warm water like a normal person. No wasteful disposable cloth, no chemicals, etcetera. But for whatever reason, I loathe doing this, and the best way to get me to clean my face at night is a container of those wipes by the bed. This is a small and stupid indulgence that I need to give up. Bah.
Hearth & Home
Adam and I tried container gardening this year. I killed off three basil plants by May. Two remaining basil plants are sickly. A deer ate the tomato plant but it's trying to fight its way back. As it turns out, the only two plants that have earned their keep so far are the parsley and the chives. I use them in cooking all the time and it's nice to just go onto the patio and snip some. The value of the rest remains to be seen.
Our house is almost nine years old, which means that it is long overdue for having the interior painted. We would really like to have the house finished by the end of the year, which means a lot of weekends of moving furniture, putting up painters tape, and keeping the cats from stealing our brushes, etcetera. We kicked off this ambitious project this weekend by painting our basement bathroom, which, up until a month ago, had a lot of damage and holes in the plasterboard (long story--don't ask). I have to say, we did a near perfect job and it has given us confidence to tackle the must more difficult jobs like the sun room, the stairwell, the basement and remaining bathrooms.
Health
I haven't been very good with following my low carb way of eating the past few weeks. Before, during, and immediately after FiranCon it was Cheat City for me. But now it's time to get back on the wagon. Luckily, I have a new motivator to help me along: Wii Fit.
I'll be frank: I hate exercising. There are a thousand things I would rather be doing--I would rather mop the floor than sit on a stationary bike. I've never been one of those fortunate souls who get an adrenaline rush from working out. Moreover, I never see any concrete progress, so it seemed rather pointless.
But wii fit changes that. The board gives you such precise feedback on what you're doing, you can see your muscles getting incrementally stronger every day. And with yoga, many of the poses I simply could not do when I started, I'm now almost achieving. (And by the way, Yoga is so much harder than it looks.)
The interactive nature of the feedback tells you if you're keeping your balance, if you're doing it properly, and helps you isolate the right muscles in a way that no trainer has ever managed with me. The games are fun; you often forget that you're exercising. And though the aerobic games leave something to be desired--it's the real weakness of the system--I do work up a sweat.
The first time I tried the "jogging" session, I couldn't finish. I had to stop and hunch over to catch my breath. The next night, I dragged my sorry butt over the finish line. The third night, I finished the course comfortably. The fourth night, I did the course twice. This sort of immediate progress is really motivating to me.
I worry that these games are going to get boring. I already want to punch the trainers for repeating the same lines over and over. However, hopefully by the time I've worn out these games, Nintendo will have made new games to accompany the wii board.
I've never _looked forward_ to exercise before. But sometimes I wake up and think, "Oooh, lemme go jump on the wii board before breakfast and beat my high score!"
Conclusion
So there you have it. This is likely to remain a busy month for me as I catch up on neglected duties and paperwork. I should be back to my sociable self by July. And in the meantime, I plan to enjoy every minute of the summer!
- Mood:
busy
*primal scream*
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I Thought I Saw a Putty Cat This kitty has to learn that his prey is _outside_ the cage. |
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Kitty Rampage It's a wild lion on the savanna. . . |
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Feathered Food The kitty catches his quarry at last. |
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But the birdie lived through it It seems the kitten was more tired than he was hungry. |
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Birdie Grooming And now the birdie and the kitty make friends. |
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Friends Forever If this kitty and this birdie can be friends, can't the rest of us learn to get along? |
- Mood: chipper
Things to be Grateful For:- Modern Medicine. My mother broke her wrist two days ago while gardening. She fell into a pile of mulch, broke both of the large bones and dislocated every bone inbetween. She's having surgery today, so Adam and I are probably going to spend the weekend in Easton walking the dogs or running errands for my parents while my mom recovers. They're going to put a titanium plate in her wrist, and I'm grateful that she should get back use of it. I can tell already she's going to be a lovely patient.
- Cocoa Roast Almonds. This is a new snack that's becoming a staple in my house. For 1/4 cup (easily measured in the cap of the bottle) you get some cocoa dusted almonds for 150 calories and 3 net carbs. Quite tasty. Think of all those healthy oils.
- A third coat of paint. I spent the past few days painting our front door. I had to--the new one was installed stark white, which is against the covenant of our HOA and didn't match our shutters. So after at least one failed attempt (and first coat of paint) I found a color that is close, but not an exact match. Firebaked Brick. For normal people, that's red. And I assure you, there's nothing I'd rather do than mess with red paint in the foyer of our white living room. However, after three coats, and only one drip on the foyer floor, the door looks great, and I even put on the hardware myself.
- LARP Progress. As of yesterday, I finished writing out all the character sheets. The rest of the work involves editing, checking for mistakes, shopping for props and supplies, finalizing rules, making nametags, writing out notes and reminders for the actual event, making table labels, organizing the banquet hall, setting up "the corpse," printing out a bunch of paper and stuffing it into about 90 envelopes. Trust me, this is all the easy stuff, comparatively speaking, so I'm a little less stressed now.
- Parsley and Rosemary. So, even though my favorite herb is basil, I have killed two out of the four basil plants we planted in containers in our yard. The two remaining basil plants are sickly. But the parsley and rosemary are growing like gangbusters, so I snipped some fresh parsley this morning to fry up with fresh mushrooms for a quick omelet. I felt very accomplished :P
- Mood: busy
The Dream
I had my first FiranCon nightmare of the year this morning. Usually, they are always the same--I get to the convention and nothing is ready and the players are mad at me. This time, was a whole terrible new anxiety.
In my dream, a guy showed up for FiranCon who turned out not to be the player we thought he was--but a complete stranger. When I confronted the con-crasher and tried to kick him out, he started strangling me to death. The last thing I remember was slumping against a wall, flailing, with his hands on my throat while he kissed my shoulder, and I couldn't get enough air to scream. I woke up clawing the sheets and gasping for air, covered in a sheen of perspiration with my heart trying to beat its way out of my chest.
I just love the smell of Sigmund Freud in the morning.
Anyway, I'm still trying to shake the creepy feeling of that dream, so I thought I'd throw a little gratitude around before I get back to the grind.
Things I'm Grateful For
I had my first FiranCon nightmare of the year this morning. Usually, they are always the same--I get to the convention and nothing is ready and the players are mad at me. This time, was a whole terrible new anxiety.
In my dream, a guy showed up for FiranCon who turned out not to be the player we thought he was--but a complete stranger. When I confronted the con-crasher and tried to kick him out, he started strangling me to death. The last thing I remember was slumping against a wall, flailing, with his hands on my throat while he kissed my shoulder, and I couldn't get enough air to scream. I woke up clawing the sheets and gasping for air, covered in a sheen of perspiration with my heart trying to beat its way out of my chest.
I just love the smell of Sigmund Freud in the morning.
Anyway, I'm still trying to shake the creepy feeling of that dream, so I thought I'd throw a little gratitude around before I get back to the grind.
Things I'm Grateful For
- Our Tomato Plant, the Fighter. As some of you know, I've been trying my hand at container gardening this summer with mixed results. I've already killed two basil plants, and the folks on FiranMUX have a betting pool going as to when I'll kill the rest. Our tomato plant was the one that was doing the best, until a deer came and ate it--all but two leaves. My sister assured me it would die, but when I looked out there today I saw new leaves sprouting! I shall name this tomato plant Hillary--it just wont' die.
- Our New Front Door. After many years of suffering it was finally our heating bill that convinced us to replace the front door with one that actually closed properly--with a seal. We decided to add a storm door as well. Home Depot came to install it, though we will need to paint it to match the shutters. The door looks great, and I love the storm door, but it kind of freaks me out when I look in the living room and I think that someone has left the front door wide open! I'm not used to all that light. The cats are afraid of the storm door because its piston hisses when it closes.
- Projects that are Easier Than They Look. Adam and I have been dreading repairing our basement bathroom, which, through an unlikely series of mishaps, had two holes in the plaster, a crack by the sink, a cracked baseboard, and caulk that ripped away from the wall. We've been putting off fixing it forever, but it turns out that with a little plaster and sanding, it'll be ready for painting very shortly.
- Uber Appliances. I said early on that this was going to be the year of new appliances for me. I ended up getting a Kitchen Aid Stand Mixer for Christmas, a George Foreman G5 grill for my birthday, and a deep fryer. I make low carb bread at least once every two weeks, so I get a lot of use out of the kitchen aid, and it has been a very worthwhile investment. The Foreman I use almost every day. This morning, I used it with the "omelette plates" to make baked eggs with dill and goat cheese. It was ready before I finished making my tea. The deep fryer doesn't get as much use as the other appliances, and I went with a really awkwardly designed one that takes up more counter space than it's entitled to. Still, I have used it a bunch of times since I got it, so it's not going to waste. My husband likes rutabaga fries and low carb onion rings. And chicken wings are a snap.
- Good friends and Interesting Times. This week, Paul McEndree (
![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif)
kralentor) extended a last minute invitation to the Lyric Opera House to see Justice Antonin Scalia. My first instinct was to recoil from even the mention of the Prince of Darkness. But the chance to spend time with Paul and see a Supreme Court justice was too much for me to resist. Besides, much to my horror, Scalia isn't even the worst jurist on the Supreme Court anymore. It was a beautiful afternoon, an easy walk from the parking deck to the opera house, and a packed auditorium. I dug my nails into my hands as I listened to Scalia spew an amazing amount of excrement with a completely straight face, but he was still funny and entertaining. People who make pacts with the devil often are. Then afterwards, Paul took me for coffee and we had a really nice talk. (And yes, I stood for Justice Scalia, but I did not clap!)
- Mood: busy
Things to be Thankful For
It's been a while since I've updated my gratitude journal. I've pretty much been a sour individual the past year, so it's time to change that. Here's five things I'm grateful for today:
- My Blond Bombshell. While most people wake up to the sound of a grating alarm, I wake up to a furry little cheerleader with an internal clock who knows precisely when to rouse me from slumber by licking my nose and waving around his huge pompom tail. I'm really glad we decided to keep Butterscotch.
- Basil. Basil is my favorite herb. It's not only great in Italian food, but it's also a staple of Thai cuisine, so you really get more bang for your buck. Fresh basil will wake up a traditional salad, is a perfect accompaniment to tomato, makes a fabulous pizza and gives elegance to a cream sauce. Given its special versatility, it was my first choice of plants to buy for the Great Dray Gardening Experiment of 2008 (tm). Adam and I have decided to see if we can keep plants alive this year, so we went to Home Depot and bought a bunch. Little did we know that it's too early in the year, and that basil requires full sun (which we don't have anywhere in the yard) and that really, you don't need five basil plants--one is probably fine. However, since three out of the five basil plants are already dying, it might be best that we got five. Now it's survival of the fittest to see which one will remain standing by the end of the summer.
- Spring. Spring, glorious spring is here. I've been taking it for granted for too many years. This is because normally April and May are the worst months of the year for me due to FiranCon. I spend my entire spring chained to my desk writing larps and planning the convention. This year might not be different, but I am determined to do a much more incompetent job on the LARP this year, putting out only half-hearted effort and slouching my way to the finish line. Half the participants are going to be drunk anyway, so they might not even notice!
- Preparation. I'm a mess about a lot of things, but in the past five years, I've learned the value of making lists, organizing, and planning ahead. I often fail at this, but when I succeed, I like to celebrate my triumphs. Today I had an organizational victory regarding the pour shield on my KitchenAid mixer, which recently warped in the dishwasher. I've only owned this appliance since January, so I was quite put out. I emailed the KitchenAid company who sent back a mail demanding all manner of information before they would honor the warranty, in a clear effort to frustrate me into simply buying the replacement part. However, I had anticipated this. Within easy reach of my desk, I was able to retrieve the series, model number, and serial numbers that I had saved for just such an occasion. I was even able to email them a copy of the receipt! My mother would be so proud.
- Dates with the Husband. Tuesday, after a long day of being chained to my desk working (see above comments re: FiranCon), Adam breezed in after work and announced he was taking me out to dinner. I wasn't at all prepared for this. I don't work in pajamas and slippers--I always dress right down to the lace-up shoes--but my outfit was several notches below restaurant attire. Adam just shooed me upstairs to change into something dressy, then took me to the Bonefish Grill where we enjoyed a delicious (albeit pricey) meal that brought back memories of our cruise. Afterwards, he took me for a drive then when we got home, he started humming our wedding song, took me in his arms and danced me across the living room. I teasingly asked him, "Have you done something bad that you're trying to make up for?" But he's just a romantic like that, and I'm very lucky ;)
- Mood:
grateful
(Check it out at IGMS)
The Making of Limbo
by Stephanie Dray
My dead great grandmother talks to me.
She was an immigrant to this country and she feels perfectly entitled to lurk in the back of my mind demanding that I make an accounting for my life, since I have opportunities she only dreamed of. This constant nagging, this sense of inter-generational obligation, has always informed both my politics and my writing.
Of course, my great grandmother was illiterate and probably considered writing to be my most useless skill. But I still think she’d have been tickled to find out that she’d inspired a story like “Limbo”--a quirky tale about a young Italian-American woman whose dead grandmother possesses her body and meddles in her romances. At its core, though, “Limbo” is about the inherited baggage we carry through life. And I consider this story my own little tribute to the colorful women of my family, whose flaws and virtues I really could not exaggerate with my prose if I tried.
But “Limbo” was also inspired by some of the other great ladies I've learned from, including my three female instructors at Clarion East. Nalo Hopkinson encouraged me to enrich my own writing with the details of my cultural heritage. Maureen McHugh challenged me to test out different authorial voices. And Kelly Link prodded me to break with convention and try my hand at something just a little bit weird. (I like to think that Kelly will appreciate that I finally found a way to work a metaphorically disembodied head into my writing.)
The night before I wrote “Limbo,” I was at a writer’s convention and someone dared me to emulate the voice of a writer I admired. I have problems resisting dares, and at the time, I was immersed in Maureen McHugh's "Mothers and Other Monsters.” I’d never written anything in the present tense before and I wasn’t sure I could do it. On the long car ride home from the convention, I felt overwhelmed by the challenge and filled with self-doubt about my chosen career path. Right on cue, great grandma started yammering about how I really ought to learn some marketable skills like goat-herding. (To be fair, she doesn’t just nag me when I’m feeling insecure. She also has an opinion on my home décor, since a lot of the furniture in my house once belonged to her.)
Anyway, the point is that great grandma’s yammering, a writer’s conference, and the collective influence of some of my favorite female writers converged on one long car ride, and “Limbo” was born.
I knew the story was a success when my writing group asked me for the recipe for pasta fagioli and started sharing tales of their own zany relatives. In those stories, more narratives about how we’re shaped by the influence of people long departed began to emerge.
You see, deep down, I think everybody’s dead relatives talk to them. I just hope that “Limbo” will help people listen to what their ancestors really have to say.
- Mood:
cheerful
Love never dies, but trust is like a ghost--the existence of which can't be proved, only evidenced by the absence of betrayal. Trust can't be broken; for a faithless act only pulls aside the veil to show an empty treasure room. Trust either is, or it isn't.
Which is why love can be rekindled, but trust can only be built. When love ends, its memories still live in your heart, a bittersweet comfort. But when trust ends, it's only unmasked as a fraud.
Which is why love can be rekindled, but trust can only be built. When love ends, its memories still live in your heart, a bittersweet comfort. But when trust ends, it's only unmasked as a fraud.
- Mood:
moody
Diamonds are now being made out of cremated remains. People are taking the ashes of their loved ones and turning them into memorial gemstones in a rainbow of color options.
Some say this is just another crass American way of turning tragedy into bling. But putting someone into a box in the ground and letting them rot has never struck me as a particularly respectful memorial. Headstones clustered together in a graveyard can be creepier than beautiful. And urned ashes seem like a way of just storing someone on a shelf.
But jewelry is worn. It is not just fashion, it is sentiment. The idea of honoring someone you love by literally carrying them with you through life, moves me. Gemstones don't rot, don't need to be weeded, and don't fade to ugliness with time and neglect.
There is an ethereal quality about diamonds that has always linked them to the spiritual realm in the human mind. For just this reason, De Beers has been fabulously successful marketing the "Diamonds are Forever" slogan and artificially inflating diamond prices. This came up because I'm writing an article on diamonds for one of my clients. She's an amazing jeweler, and I've written many gemstone articles for her. Every time I write one, I learn something new. But I realized right away that this article was going to be different, because diamonds get a lot of bad press. This is because the diamond industry has helped fuel wars and violence throughout thirdworld nations. (This was brought to mainstream attention by a movie called Blood Diamond.)
Yet, memorial diamonds are different. Nobody is cutting off anybody's hands so you can wear something sparkly. Memorial diamonds aren't about raping the earth. They're a synergy between human ingenuity and the natural world.
I think diamonds capture something for us that feels like eternity and I could embrace that.
So, when I die, I want to be a diamond.
(I feel a short story coming on. Wish I had time to write it!)
The elephants are trained to paint like this. But even so, it's still pretty amazing.
I realize that since I'm not a vegetarian, my moral authority is shaky here, but I'm prepared to enact a brightline rule that human beings not to be allowed to kill species that can make art. Or give themselves names.
- Mood:
pensive
Victory is Mine . . . Etcetera
I've completed fifty uninterrupted hours of editing on Primary Partners and am eagerly awaiting my little icon that declares I have successfully completed NaNoEdMo. My book probably needs fifty more hours, however, I'm no longer humiliated by the first three chapters, and I think with a little spit-shine in the fall, I'll be able to submit this manuscript by New Years.
Outstanding Work to To
My Mind is Mush
For right now though, I can't stand to look at this manuscript another second. I have to put it away and let it stew. With other writing projects looming and FiranCon around the corner, I won't have time to give it another thought for a while anyway, though, so it's all for the best.
In the meantime, A Publishing House That Shall Not Be Named was kind enough to write me and tell me that they lost my manuscript and I will have to resubmit. The bad news is that I'm out the printing and shipping costs and the clock starts ticking all over again. The good news is that I've fixed some of the typos since that version went out. What other business in the world works like this?
I've completed fifty uninterrupted hours of editing on Primary Partners and am eagerly awaiting my little icon that declares I have successfully completed NaNoEdMo. My book probably needs fifty more hours, however, I'm no longer humiliated by the first three chapters, and I think with a little spit-shine in the fall, I'll be able to submit this manuscript by New Years.
Outstanding Work to To
- Make a trip to Capitol Hill and take some photographs and do some field research on the Senate Office Buildings
- Visit a Campaign Headquarters. (I'm hoping the Democratic coordinated campaign office in Pikesville I spent nights holed up in during 2006 is an aberration, because there's no way that place was suitable setting for romance.)
- Interview a campaign manager
- Interview a senate staffer
- Think of a better hobby for my rules-obsessed main character than gardening
- Consider adding back in the subplot that was cut
- Channel my Inner Anais Nin
- Visit a Maryland Lockup and give myself a refresher course on the arraignments
- Visit the hot-spot restaurants and bars for politicos in the area
My Mind is Mush
For right now though, I can't stand to look at this manuscript another second. I have to put it away and let it stew. With other writing projects looming and FiranCon around the corner, I won't have time to give it another thought for a while anyway, though, so it's all for the best.
In the meantime, A Publishing House That Shall Not Be Named was kind enough to write me and tell me that they lost my manuscript and I will have to resubmit. The bad news is that I'm out the printing and shipping costs and the clock starts ticking all over again. The good news is that I've fixed some of the typos since that version went out. What other business in the world works like this?
- Mood: cheerful
Excuses and Justifications
This weekend has been from hell. Between various projects, deadlines started slipping, and I got so far behind that I despaired of finishing NanoEdmo this year. But I really put my nose to the grindstone the past four or five days, using a timer and prevailing upon the generosity of my husband to do mundane tasks like, say, paying the bills--which is not his "job" in our marriage, so I super-appreciated it.
Things I've learned:
Darling Du Jour
This weekend has been from hell. Between various projects, deadlines started slipping, and I got so far behind that I despaired of finishing NanoEdmo this year. But I really put my nose to the grindstone the past four or five days, using a timer and prevailing upon the generosity of my husband to do mundane tasks like, say, paying the bills--which is not his "job" in our marriage, so I super-appreciated it.
Things I've learned:
- 47 Hours is Longer Than It Sounds. The good news is that I've completed at least 47 hours worth of uninterrupted editing on my contemporary modern romance novel, Primary Partners. The trick here is the uninterrupted time. 47 hours doesn't sound like a lot, but when you can't count trips to the bathroom, picking up the phone, taking a lunch break, surfing for a missing piece of information, or having a short conversation with a client or someone passing by your desk, you'll find that it takes a lot longer than 47 hours really ought to. Anyway, three more to go before I cross the finish line.
- I had a lot of detritus to delete.The other good news is that the novel is no longer pure drivel. I gave it a lighter narrative voice, a comedic tone, and ended up cutting an entire subplot out of the book. It now clocks in as a complete story at just over 50K words (roughly 203 pages). I've never performed such a feat of brevity in my life so I'm ridiculously proud of myself.
- Much More Research Is Needed. When I wrote Cleopatra's Daughter I spent more than seven months doing research before I typed a word. I suspect that's probably the standard in historical fiction. But because I wrote this book as part of National Novel Writing Month, I didn't have time to do any research at all. The whole manuscript is riddled with questions in the margins, hopefully none of which will make or break the story. I'd hate to have based a whole scene on a premise that simply could not happen in a campaign. I've done what research I can on the net. I've read The Campaign Manager, the Vault's guide to Careers on Capitol Hill and I'm currently immersed in Jessica Cutler's The Washingtonienne (the sexploits of which offend even my indelicate sensibilities). But I feel as if there's not going to be any real substitute for my actually doing some interviews and field research. So if any of you know know people who work on the Hill (and I know several of you do), I'd really appreciate help in hooking up with someone who wouldn't mind humoring my sillier questions.
- Description Remains My Hideous Weakness. I think the main reason I managed to keep this book as short as it is, is by gleefully ignoring my greatest weakness--lack of the telling detail. Dialog is my strength. I'm decent with plot and pacing and I can draw memorable characters. But I'm the anti-George Lucas. I don't care about the scenery. Everything I write is against a green screen that I struggle to fill. Like a newbie writer, I really need to have a sticky with the five senses taped up on my desk to remind me. For the next draft of this novel, I have about five thousand words leeway, and I'm going to have to dedicate them all to a sense of time and place.
- There's not a single sex scene in my book. Remember when I said I was being coy? I realized today that there's not one actual sex scene in the whole draft--not even a sex scene where I close the bedroom doors and fade to black. This makes the book unpublishable for the majority of romance lines and, therefore, must be remedied. But what the heck is up with me? Why am I suddenly demanding chaste suffering from my poor characters? I suppose in the third draft, I'll have to pour myself a glass of wine, dress up in a negligee and help my protagonists "get it on." What, don't all writers do that?
Darling Du Jour
As far as holidays went, Grace thought Halloween had a lot going for it. First, people actually gave you candy for free. The Government didn't need to pass a bill or anything--you could just knock on a fellow citizen's door and they'd give you stuff. Talk about redistribution of wealth!
- Mood:
artistic
I like bad girls.
I'm not talking about the whiny brats, the passive-aggressive victims, and the casually cruel. I'm talking about those women who don't conform to society's expectations and who use every resource they have to thrive. The sluts, the bitches, the fighters and the survivors. Those are the bad girls I like.
You might like a few of them yourself. Historical figures like Elizabeth Tudor and Cleopatra the Great were both bad girls of that mold; if they hadn't been, they'd have been murdered young and we'd have never heard of either of them. Instead, they both schemed, manipulated and even killed to become great queens.
There are beloved fictional bad girls too. Scarlett O'Hara from Gone with the Wind is probably the most infamous. Scarlett is a heroine with insurmountable flaws, but her single minded determination and her raw courage made her an enduring cultural icon. More recent literary history gives us the Dallanger Saga by V.C. Andrews, which captivated millions of readers with its vengeful heroine, Cathy Doll. But as dark and twisted as Cathy is, there's redemption for her.
Not so with the main character of a remarkable novel I just read. Wideacre is not the kind of book that I would normally have picked up, though I am lucky I had no idea what I was getting into, because the surprise was thrilling. Since I had no notion of where the story was going, the first chapter was so dull that I nearly chucked the book in the trash. Worse, I could not find it within me to like the heroine. But soon, I realized that I did not just dislike Beatrice Lacey--I hated her.
And then I could not put the book down.
The narrator of Wideacre is unlike any main character I have ever encountered before with the possible exception of The Marquise de Merteuil from Dangerous Liaisons or Catherine Earnshaw of Wuthering Heights. At first, I read Wideacre because I was shocked. Then I kept reading because I couldn't wait to find out what sociopathic thing Beatrice would do next. But eventually, I became so absorbed in the darkness of her heart and the desperation of her struggle that I was unaccountably moved to tears.
While I could see no road to redemption for Beatrice, and I did not come to love her, I took no joy in her failures. This book is a tragedy, and in spite of the wildly divergent reviews on Amazon.com, I think it'll resonate with every woman's inner villainess.
Though Beatrice is not a normal woman by any stretch of the imagination, she is a product of the sexism of her times. Some of her vices, in a man, would be virtues. It's her absolute refusal to accept the role that society has set out for her that turns her into a monster. It's not that Beatrice can't love. It's that she doesn't love as a woman ought to. And when she does love, it's to such excess that it destroys everything.
In less exaggerated ways, I suspect every woman has been there. Driven by passions that are unseemly, unacceptable, and difficult to control. Usually, this manifests itself in semi-innocent transgressions, like spying on a boyfriend's email or calling his cell phone 47 times. I've done neither of these things, but I understand the impulse and have sins of my own. Passion can destroy.
Indeed, I worry sometimes that is going to be the legacy of Hillary Clinton--another admirable bad girl who seems poised, at this moment, to rip apart what she most loves in the world. I'm certainly not calling her a villainess or comparing her sins to the evils of Beatrice Lacey. But Wideacre must be understood as a woman's fable.
It's a lesson in violent passions unrestrained by conscience or apology. And though it purports to be historical fiction, there are some plausibly deniable fantasy elements that pull it into the speculative fiction realm. It's also a book with political and historical lessons; a thinking person's gothic horror. But at its core Wideacre is epic myth. Beatrice is a goddess, with all the potential for destruction that entails.
Wideacre is not a perfect book. It's too long by about 200 pages. It's repetitive, overwrought, surreal, and after a while, you can see the ending coming like an unstoppable freight train; you're just there to watch the wreck. This is a dark book, disgusting and compelling at once.
It's also a book that will haunt me for a long time.
I'm not talking about the whiny brats, the passive-aggressive victims, and the casually cruel. I'm talking about those women who don't conform to society's expectations and who use every resource they have to thrive. The sluts, the bitches, the fighters and the survivors. Those are the bad girls I like.
You might like a few of them yourself. Historical figures like Elizabeth Tudor and Cleopatra the Great were both bad girls of that mold; if they hadn't been, they'd have been murdered young and we'd have never heard of either of them. Instead, they both schemed, manipulated and even killed to become great queens.
There are beloved fictional bad girls too. Scarlett O'Hara from Gone with the Wind is probably the most infamous. Scarlett is a heroine with insurmountable flaws, but her single minded determination and her raw courage made her an enduring cultural icon. More recent literary history gives us the Dallanger Saga by V.C. Andrews, which captivated millions of readers with its vengeful heroine, Cathy Doll. But as dark and twisted as Cathy is, there's redemption for her.
Not so with the main character of a remarkable novel I just read. Wideacre is not the kind of book that I would normally have picked up, though I am lucky I had no idea what I was getting into, because the surprise was thrilling. Since I had no notion of where the story was going, the first chapter was so dull that I nearly chucked the book in the trash. Worse, I could not find it within me to like the heroine. But soon, I realized that I did not just dislike Beatrice Lacey--I hated her.
And then I could not put the book down.
The narrator of Wideacre is unlike any main character I have ever encountered before with the possible exception of The Marquise de Merteuil from Dangerous Liaisons or Catherine Earnshaw of Wuthering Heights. At first, I read Wideacre because I was shocked. Then I kept reading because I couldn't wait to find out what sociopathic thing Beatrice would do next. But eventually, I became so absorbed in the darkness of her heart and the desperation of her struggle that I was unaccountably moved to tears.
While I could see no road to redemption for Beatrice, and I did not come to love her, I took no joy in her failures. This book is a tragedy, and in spite of the wildly divergent reviews on Amazon.com, I think it'll resonate with every woman's inner villainess.
Though Beatrice is not a normal woman by any stretch of the imagination, she is a product of the sexism of her times. Some of her vices, in a man, would be virtues. It's her absolute refusal to accept the role that society has set out for her that turns her into a monster. It's not that Beatrice can't love. It's that she doesn't love as a woman ought to. And when she does love, it's to such excess that it destroys everything.
In less exaggerated ways, I suspect every woman has been there. Driven by passions that are unseemly, unacceptable, and difficult to control. Usually, this manifests itself in semi-innocent transgressions, like spying on a boyfriend's email or calling his cell phone 47 times. I've done neither of these things, but I understand the impulse and have sins of my own. Passion can destroy.
Indeed, I worry sometimes that is going to be the legacy of Hillary Clinton--another admirable bad girl who seems poised, at this moment, to rip apart what she most loves in the world. I'm certainly not calling her a villainess or comparing her sins to the evils of Beatrice Lacey. But Wideacre must be understood as a woman's fable.
It's a lesson in violent passions unrestrained by conscience or apology. And though it purports to be historical fiction, there are some plausibly deniable fantasy elements that pull it into the speculative fiction realm. It's also a book with political and historical lessons; a thinking person's gothic horror. But at its core Wideacre is epic myth. Beatrice is a goddess, with all the potential for destruction that entails.
Wideacre is not a perfect book. It's too long by about 200 pages. It's repetitive, overwrought, surreal, and after a while, you can see the ending coming like an unstoppable freight train; you're just there to watch the wreck. This is a dark book, disgusting and compelling at once.
It's also a book that will haunt me for a long time.
I imagine that I'm like most Americans in that when I saw the clips of Obama's preacher damning America, I recoiled in horror. I was offended by the remarks and more offended that my probable nominee was associated with this. I expected Obama to do the smart political thing and throw this guy under the bus. Instead, he did something much braver, that speaks volumes about his character. He gave the bravest, most candid speech that I've ever heard a politician give in my lifetime.
It's not a comfortable speech and it doesn't pander. Whether your black or white or brown, there's something in it that's likely to irritate the heck out of you. Make yourself watch the whole thing though, because it's really extraordinary in the way he utterly condemns the preacher's comments, explaining exactly why they are so wrong, but doesn't abandon him either. He even gives absolution to Geraldine Ferraro.
Obama's entire campaign has been premised on the idea that he's willing to respect or at least talk to people he vehemently disagrees with. His willingness to reach out to some people on the Republican side that I think are human trash, has been something that I've had to swallow as a political necessity. But I now see that it's a moral characteristic that defines him--to find common ground, to find the good in everybody and try to bring it out.
The comment that moved me the most was:
It's not a comfortable speech and it doesn't pander. Whether your black or white or brown, there's something in it that's likely to irritate the heck out of you. Make yourself watch the whole thing though, because it's really extraordinary in the way he utterly condemns the preacher's comments, explaining exactly why they are so wrong, but doesn't abandon him either. He even gives absolution to Geraldine Ferraro.
Obama's entire campaign has been premised on the idea that he's willing to respect or at least talk to people he vehemently disagrees with. His willingness to reach out to some people on the Republican side that I think are human trash, has been something that I've had to swallow as a political necessity. But I now see that it's a moral characteristic that defines him--to find common ground, to find the good in everybody and try to bring it out.
The comment that moved me the most was:
He contains within him the contradictions – the good and the bad – of the community that he has served diligently for so many years. I can no more disown him than I can disown the black community. I can no more disown him than I can my white grandmother – a woman who helped raise me, a woman who sacrificed again and again for me, a woman who loves me as much as she loves anything in this world, but a woman who once confessed her fear of black men who passed her by on the street, and who on more than one occasion has uttered racial or ethnic stereotypes that made me cringe. These people are part of me. And they are a part of America, this country that I love.
- Mood: surprised
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Lemon Meringue Failure It looks good doesn't it? Too bad that it was completely vile when we bit into it. More work to be done on the lemon filling. |
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Sliced Bread Yes, that's right. Witness the power of sliced bread for 50 calories and 2.5 carbs a slice. Sandwiches are on the menu. |
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Out of the Oven Here's a loaf of bread hot out of the oven. I wish it had risen a little higher but it's still lovely. |
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Round Bread At the time I was baking these, I only had one loaf pan, so I didn't know what to do with the other half of the dough. I just made it round and baked it into a loaf. I couldn't figure out what to do with this but recently I'm thinking I could cut out the insides and turn it into a breadbowl and fill it with dip. |
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Stuffed Meatloaf Roll This is not the best picture, but on the left you can see meatloaf stuffed with broccoli and other veggies, and on the right you can see a stuffed green pepper. |
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More Sliced Bread This was last night's loaf, and this one only has 1 carb per slice. |
- Mood: accomplished
- The writers of The Tudors have really fouled up. I enjoyed Showtime's recent historical series--the acting was decent and sometimes even good, the visuals were stunning, the history was interesting, and the story epic. Mind you, I'm not a purist when it comes to historical fiction. In fact, I scoff at those snobby college history majors who complain about every little dramatic change a writer has to make and don't understand that historical fiction is not meant to be a documentary. I even joyfully accepted the historical desecration that was HBO's Rome because it told a great tale! But by combining Henry VIII's sisters into one character, the writers of The Tudors have really limited the show's potential storyline. What about Mary Queen of Scots? What about Lady Jane Grey? Neither of these vitally important historical characters can even exist in future seasons because of this stupid decision. And it doesn't seem to have been done for any story-related reason that I can fathom.
- Stilton is the king of cheeses. It is better than Danish blue or even Gorgonzola. I have dubbed it my favorite cheese in the universe, which means that England has finally produced some native food of merit. (My friend paultucker insists that beer battered mushrooms are also English, and if so, I guess that makes two good native foods from a country that is otherwise a culinary wasteland.)
- It's time to replace the front door. When the hole in the seal of your front door becomes big enough that your cat hangs out in front of it all day, staring outside and/or guarding the house from creatures who want to come in, it's time to give up on Do-It-Yourself Repair and call a professional.
- I am a disgrace at Google Research. I spent two hours the other day trying to find websites that would help me learn more about daily life as a staffer on capitol hill. Other than the vault, I got nothing. I don't understand this inability of mine. In my academic days, I was a decent library researcher. But appropriate internet search terms elude me.
- Life without Delivered Groceries is a Nightmare. I realize those of you who have never had your groceries delivered (or never had them delivered for a reasonable fee) are snorting at my privileged whining here. You are thinking, "Some of us can't afford to have groceries delivered to our door like lords of the manor. Some of us are frugal." But what you don't know is that I saved thousands of dollars using Safeway.com's delivery service over the past two years. For $8 I could have my groceries delivered, and I assure you, this fee was well worth it as my growing savings attested. First of all, as you put things in your electronic cart, you were easily able to keep a running total and meet your budget exactly every time. Secondly, you saved on gas. Third, you save time that would have been spent in the grocery store--hours, in fact--and time is money. Safeway stopped delivering to our house the day of the last ice storm and since that terrible day, I have been completely unable to stick to our budget shopping in the store in person. Even if I use the calculator on my phone, thanks to scan codes instead of price tags, I can't remember what something cost if I need to put something back. Worse, by the time I get to the checkout, I'm too embarrassed to tell the clerk to remove 15 items that I won't be needing anymore. Life without delivered groceries is a tragedy you won't understand until you've suffered it. I'm getting desperate enough to reconsider Peapod.
- Mood: contemplative
Eliot Spitzer was one of my political heroes. He was a hard-charging do-gooder prosecutor who tried to inject the law into the Wild Wild West of Wall Street. His political hero was Teddy Roosevelt, and he spoke eloquently about ethics, responsibility, and the public trust.
He was also, as it now turns out, a complete fraud.
(Read More . . .)
He was also, as it now turns out, a complete fraud.
(Read More . . .)
- Mood:
crushed
In the past few days, I somehow managed to add 6,000 words to "Primary Partners" because:
My darling du jour: Sadly, this was not the first time Josh had ever stepped into a lodge belonging to the Benevolent and Protective Order of the Elks.
- It seemed very important to me that my heroine be in love with Mr. Wrong before realizing who Mr. Right is
- Essential that her calamitous romance should culminate in someone being dumped after a kiss under the mistletoe.
- And all this required my adding the month of December to the manuscript
My darling du jour: Sadly, this was not the first time Josh had ever stepped into a lodge belonging to the Benevolent and Protective Order of the Elks.
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