Cherie Priest's Blog: It's awards season, so here comes the shameless self-promotion, page 50

Badasses deserve their own post

I was going to lump this in with the previous entry re: garden/lawn nerdery, but changed my mind - because a badass like Sarah Robles deserves her own post. In short (and to quote a Buzzfeed article I'll link below):

"Sarah Robles is ranked higher than any other American weightlifter, male or female ... but outside the world of squats and snatches, barely anyone knows her name.... “You can get that sponsorship if you’re a super-built guy or a girl who looks good in a bikini. But not if you’re a girl who’s built like a guy,” she says.

The 23-year-old from California became the highest ranked weightlifter in the country last year after placing 11th at the world championships, beating out every male and female American on the roster. On her best day, she can lift more than 568 pounds — that’s roughly five IKEA couches, 65 gallons of milk, or one large adult male lion."

Go read this article . It's fascinating - I mean, I knew it cost money to go to the Olympics (never mind to train for them), but I had no idea how little support the athletes receive, or how financially demanding - and sometimes prohibitive - it is for men and women without endorsement deals.

But Sarah has an IndieGoGo campaign , established to help her raise the finds to cover the cost of her training and bring her coach with her to London, and I'm delighted to note that a RT from Hulk Hogan (among others around the Twitterverse/Facebook) have gotten the fundraiser up to its modest goal. But frankly, this woman deserves better.

I threw in my pence yesterday, and encourage you all to do the same. She's short on the very basics, let alone what it takes to represent her country overseas.

That having been said, why the hell isn't Sarah Robles on a box of Wheaties? Somebody get this Olympian a Gatorade commercial! Strength and beauty comes in all shapes and sizes, people, and this woman is an honest-to-God powerhouse - an outstanding example of badassery and perseverance.

And I, for one, am proud as can be that she's lifting for Team USA.

Can't help myself but count the flaws

I'm back in Tennessee now, where I'm likely to remain for the foreseeable future (barring unexpected catastrophe, natch), and boy howdy is it hot. We just wrapped up a week of days that cracked three-digit temperatures, and today it's only slightly cooler - but the rest of the week is looking more "normal" for summer, with highs in the low-to-mid nineties.

And in boring household news that I just can't stop myself from sharing ... we now have birdbaths and wasp traps hanging around the backyard, so it's starting to look like a glass salvage depot up in here. The wasp traps are the pretty recycled glass variety, baited with blueberry jelly, yum, SO COME AND GET IT ALL YOU NASTY STINGING THINGS;* and the birdbaths are my own creation - cobbled together on the cheap after I realized that birdbaths are preposterously expensive.

See the image at right for the end result.

I trolled Goodwill and the Homegoods store, and eventually I scored a pair of oversized pots and a couple of inexpensive (but pretty!) glass platters. These, combined with a big fat tube of vinyl spackle/sealant I already had at home, resulted in two groovy, unique pieces for less than sixty bucks.

I've already seen many finches, a family of jays, and a fluffy half-grown mockingbird taking a dip. Like I said, it's been hot as hell. I'm glad they're enjoying the refreshment.

I've had a few people complain that my homemade birdbaths look short enough for a cat to reach, but that's not really fair. Most birdbaths are under three feet tall (the size of my largest) and some are much shorter; the trick is to put them someplace nice and open - where birds can see if something is sneaking up on them. These two baths are ensconced in the open expanse of the backyard; they're shaded, but surrounded with nothing but grass for quite some distance.

Besides, our yard has an Early Warning System - read: the aforementioned family of blue jays, which I've watched harass the Tubulent Neighbor Cat right back into her own damn yard. That is some feline shit up with which they will not put.

(Aside: As mentioned previously, the Tubulent Neighbor Cat is too fat and apathetic to be a birder anyway - but is reportedly an excellent mouser. She is, therefore, welcome on these premises.)

Now it's less than a week and a half until my friend Ms. Spyder comes out to visit, whereupon we shall get the garden and landscaping back in order. (And also no doubt drink and watch trashy TV and giggle a lot, particularly once Mr. Upkins joins the party.) Before long, these premises might actually look kind of classy. Or at least, cluttered with lovely things in a fashion calculated to be charming.

Did I mention I just ordered a gorgeous vintage glass hummingbird feeder yesterday? Yes, well. We have hummingbirds, and they need to be fed too. They might as well get fed out of something pretty.


* I am led to understand that these traps won't nab bees because of their design. I hope this is the case, and will check after a few days. I don't want to kill the bees. The bees don't bother me. It's just the damn wasps and yellowjackets I can live without.

Hanging Out around the Motor City

I didn't mention this particular out-of-town trip online because it was a bit of a secret, but you see, Yanni K. brought me up to Detroit in order to surprise a certain publisher for his birthday. Semi-birthday. Demi-birthday. Quasi-birthday, I don't know - whatever you call a surprise natal celebration six months off the actual date.

(Long story.)

I'm not going to lie to you, Marge - it's been a blast. I had a hell of a time kicking around the warehouse, hanging out, gossiping, dodging Nerf bullets, drinking weasel-shit coffee, and doing lunch shenanigans with Bill and the crew. I'm terribly glad I came, and majorly grateful to Yanni and the local peeps for setting it up!

And also for putting me up. I'm hanging at Yanni's place right now, intermittently stealing her internet and bouncing around with her kids. This morning we went to the zoo, and it ruled. Click the link. There are otters.

I'm pretty sure everyone loves otters.

In other news, last night we trooped out to see Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter. It was...hm. Well. Let's be honest: It wasn't otters.

DISCLAIMER: No, I haven't read the book. Therefore, I can't make any comparisons, contrasts, or complaints about the adaptation.

AL:VH had pacing problems out the wazoo, never mind a serious difficulty with physics and a heavy over-reliance on slow-mo bullet-vision. And really, its Evil Vampire Master Plan didn't make much sense.

(Actually, come to think about it, very little about the vampires made any sense. Hand-wavey anti-violence supernatural force field applicable only to members of the same species, anyone? At the risk of getting porny and intimating spoilers here, does this mean rough consensual vampire sex was out of the question? Inquiring minds want to know. And they have their dirty-minded doubts.)

Still - I liked the spirit of the flick, the action sequences were tense and wild, and I loved the clothes. OH HOW I LOVED THE CLOTHES. Likewise I appreciated the earnest, slightly awkward, then grimly determined portrayal of Abe, though at times I thought he was a moron - which was jarring.* I dug the expanded role of Will Johnson (played by Anthony Mackie, who was born to wear those tailored Victorian cuts); I liked the twist re: Joshua Speed (honestly didn't see it coming); and I absolutely developed a fangirl crush on Henry, who I may be quietly plotting to mug for his wardrobe. And his swagger.

So I guess it all comes down to this: (1). my next band name will be "Confederate Vampire," and (2). FOR THE LOVE OF GOD somebody stop me from running out and writing fanfic about Henry because all this self-restraint IS KILLING ME.

In short, it was kind of dumb but I really enjoyed it.


* He had NO IDEA about Henry? None? Really? Are you kidding me? I knew it in the INTRODUCTORY BAR SCENE. And using SILVER against vampires doesn't dawn on him until fucking GETTYSBURG? When it's something he learned about in THE FIRST TRAINING SEQUENCE? OMGWTF?! GTFO.

Back Home from North Carolina

ConTemporal was pretty much awesome, I don't mind telling you. If no one had mentioned it was a first-year convention, I would've never known; it went smoothly as can be, it was filled with lovely people who knew what they were doing, and I got to hang out with a couple of ladies I haven't seen often enough in the last few years. (Big ups to my homies Natania Barron and Sara Harvey!)

For a few of the day-to-day shenanigans - and pictures of my Bonus! roommate adorable 17-month-old Miss B - go kick around my Twitter feed. I had a wonderful time, really - and I hope the event continues and prospers in the years to come.

Of course, my recent adventures didn't stop there. As soon as I got home, I had a houseguest - my mom, who was passing through on her way from Iowa back to Florida.

It's kind of a long story, but to make it short: my mom drove my grandmother and my great aunt up to Iowa, in order to clean up the aunt's house so she can sell it. This proved to be a mighty undertaking, and for the last couple of weeks, the three of them have been sorting things out in Ames. Now that things are as sorted as they're going to get (without a bulldozer, by the sound of it) the trio is headed back to the tropics.

(My mom stayed with me; the elders got their own hotel room. My great-aunt has special needs that my house can't really accommodate.)

We did supper last night and breakfast this morning, and then I sent the Itty Bitty Biddy Committee on its way. Click the link if you wonder why I call them that. Keep in mind, I'm only 5 ft. 5 in. tall (in those shoes), and my mom (in the sunglasses) is wearing platform flip-flops.

By then, it was lunchtime. I took a break and went to decompress by doing a little shopping* - inspired largely by a conversation with Natania over the weekend. She had some kick-ass sunglasses. I asked about them. And then she told me of the marvels of STEIN MART. It turns out that Stein Mart is basically a Marshalls/Ross/T.J.Maxx aimed specifically at septuagenarian wild-women bound for Miami in a caftan caravan.

I spent a hundred dollars there, and walked out with more than I could carry, including a truly kick-ass pair of sunglasses. It takes so little to make me happy.

Sometimes.

Then again, sometimes it takes a whole giant pain in the ass to make me happy. To wit: We have chimney swifts.

I like chimney swifts; they are adorable, useful birds that occupy an important place in the ecosystem. (Read: they eat a shit-ton of bugs.) They are also protected by Federal Law under the Migratory Bird Treaty Act, which is good - because increasingly, they are running out of places to nest.

These days, their favorite places to nest are uncapped, disused chimneys** - but more and more, people are capping their chimneys, leaving these little guys without a place to hang their metaphoric hats.

We have two uncapped, disused chimneys. (Out of three. The third one is a gas log refit.) One of these chimneys dumps down to a fireplace in our bedroom.

I'm not going to lie to you - it's gorgeous . It's also about six feet away from our heads when we sleep at night, and I tell you what, baby chimney swifts are LOUD AS FUCK. Particularly when their adorable cheepy whiny FEED US cries are amplified by a chimney and the echo chamber created by an old coal-burning fireplace with a cast-iron summer cover.

It is DOPPLER BABY CHIMNEY SWEEPS up in here, every morning right before dawn for an hour or two.

Look, I bet these baby chimney sweeps are just about the cutest damn things in the world - and I wish them the very best. I would not hurt them for the world. I want them to grow up and nosh down on up to 6000 bitey, annoying southern bugs every single night, for shits and giggles and also because they are delicious.

But my husband and I would really like to get some sleep.

I asked around and googled around, and it turns out that when you're talking about a chimney like ours - with a non-functional fireplace, broken fire-brick, etc. - the best thing to do is stuff a plastic barrier up there, and then cram the flue full of fiberglass insulation. On the one hand, ewww. On the other hand, that didn't sound too difficult. So I went to the hardware store and picked up some fiberglass batting.

Then, while my husband lounged in the study, listening to swank music through his headphones, blissfully unaware of my capacity for handling gross tasks ... I donned gloves and popped off the fireplace's cover.

Inside, I found ancient ashes, broken bricks, a rusted-out coal-basket grate, and a whole lot of birdshit. I also found wee tiny pieces of broken eggs from where the babies hatched - at least two or three of them, I should think, given the wreckage. I covered my nose and mouth, dragged out the vacuum, and sucked out the worst of the nasty bird goo; then I unpacked the fiberglass batting and stuffed that junk as tightly up the flue as I possibly could.

This was somewhat tricky because, as mentioned, the fire brick is broken and the fireplace's interior is in shambles. But I bought four small bales of the batting, and I successfully crammed three of them in their entirety up inside that damn space, so here's hoping it's enough. Enough to...well, keep the noise down, I guess.

And if it doesn't work? I suppose we won't sleep much around dawn, because it's not like I'm going to shoot fireworks up there, or hire a disreputable pest control company to scoop them out. (It's illegal, but some jackasses will do it regardless.)

*sigh*

Anyway. Come fall, when the feathered interlopers wander off, I suppose we'll need to yank that batting back out of the flue. I predict there will be a whole lot of gagging on my part, and ultimately, there will be a few fat black trash bags filled with fiberglass batting and bird poo.

But whatchagonnado?


* Yes. I required decompression. They are lovely, and ... rather a lot to handle, en masse.
** They only hang around in the summer, so it's sort of a time-share thing if the chimneys see regular use. Basically, there's no real risk that anyone, anywhere, risks birdie flambe.

ConTemporal 2012

Tomorrow morning - barring unforeseen catastrophe - I'll be flying out to Chapel Hill for ConTemporal! I'm very much looking forward to the trip, and to seeing people I've largely missed for the last few years - never mind meeting at least one adorable new baby (maybe two!).

I predict that a good time will be had by all. And here's where and when I, personally, will be having it:*
Thursday:

6:00 p.m. - Venetian Room - Pre-Convention Dinner

Friday:

5:00 p.m. - Venetian Room - Steampunk: Aesthetic or Genre?
7:00 p.m. - Venetian Room - Port Opening Ceremonies

Saturday:

11:00 a.m. - Venetian Room - Sequential Art vs. Novel Writing
4:00 p.m. - London I - How to Handle Multiple-POV Stories

Sunday:

11:00 a.m. - Venetian Room - The Weird West
Noon - London I - Rewriting History
1:00 p.m. - Venetian Room - Closing Ceremonies
All the usual rules apply - which is to say, there's a six-foot No Shyness Zone around me at all times, so if you see me come on up and say "hello!" Show me your costume; tell me how your day's going. Ask me about my cat, or my Surprise! tomatoes.

Also, I'm happy to sign any books or magazines, assuming I either wrote them or wrote something in them. That's what I'm there for! I promise: Unless you catch me in a bathroom and/or with food in my mouth, you aren't interrupting anything or bothering me.

I likely won't be blogging, because I don't plan to bring my laptop - but I'll have my phone, so there will be Tweets 'n Pics a'plenty...and if I can get the Facebook App to work right, I'll update my page over there as well.

Anyway! Time for me to log off, as my husband and an old friend have decided to cook for me (and the friend's girlfriend), like I was going to stop them or something. But I need to run around the house and tidy up a bit, and maybe brush my hair or something.

Have a good weekend, everyone. Thanks for reading, and I hope to see some of you in North Carolina!


* Tentatively. I don't think I've ever done an event where something didn't change at the last minute - but this is the info I have for now, so here you go.

The sharks would have their hands around her

Here's today's progress on my 19th century D.C. spy caper about a powerful Difference Engine that will end the Civil War - now with warhawk conspiracies, clockwork assassins, two presidents with more in common than they know, three disgraced spies with less in common than they think, and a Bonus! not-at-all mad scientist who can save the world if someone will just give him a chance:
Project: Fiddlehead
Deadline: September 15, 2012
New words written: 3297 (not bad)
Present total word count: 13,645 words





Things accomplished in fiction: Wrapped up Chapter Two, started Chapter Three. Brought back Belle Boyd, by popular request. She's getting another weird assignment [see Clementine] and this one's a doozy...

Things accomplished in real life: Email chat with agent; phone call with Mom; a little bit of business online; staked up and tidied up half a dozen "volunteer" tomato plants that have somehow survived despite my wholesale neglect of the garden since we moved here; printed out/sorted out all my stuff for ConTemporal travel come Thursday; took a scrub brush to the un-restored mantle tiles in advance of a hypothetical restoration job; ordered some curtains for the guest room; filled in some minor drywall holes with vinyl/plaster sealant and did touch-up painting; and that's about it.

Good-bye Rosie the Queen of Corona

Here's today's progress on my 19th century D.C. spy caper about a powerful Difference Engine that will end the Civil War - now with warhawk conspiracies, clockwork assassins, two presidents with more in common than they know, three disgraced spies with less in common than they think, and a Bonus! not-at-all mad scientist who can save the world if someone will just give him a chance:
Project: Fiddlehead
Deadline: September 15, 2012
New words written: 3200 (better)
Present total word count: 10,348 words





Things accomplished in fiction: Secret military programs, shady Secretary of States (fictional), and two presidents (one present, one former) trying hard to figure out what's really going on - without telling each other everything.

Things accomplished in real life: Sent husband off to the bank to deposit a check; did some business emails; sorted out some money things online; running errands to get ready for ConTemporal this coming weekend - where I'll be the Literary Guest of Honor. I'm really looking forward to it! I get to hang with some people I haven't seen in ages :)

Other: I told myself if I cracked 10K words today, I could stop and work on some little things around the house. It was over 3000 words - which is better than I've been doing lately. And anyway, I need a little break.

The little peace in me will die, for this is not America

Here's today's progress on my 19th century D.C. spy caper about a powerful Difference Engine that will end the Civil War - now with warhawk conspiracies, clockwork assassins, two presidents with more in common than they know, three disgraced spies with less in common than they think, and a Bonus! not-at-all mad scientist who can save the world if someone will just give him a chance:
Project: Fiddlehead
Deadline: September 15, 2012
New words written: 2107 (meh)
Present total word count: 7148 words





Things accomplished in fiction: Escaped with most of what's important; introduced dear Mr. Lincoln and his private physician; found the end of Chapter One.

Things accomplished in real life: Some online business/emails; signed some reprint contracts; went to Taco Bell for lunch.

Other: Yes I'm stopping early, but I need to run to the post office and mail off these contracts - and also, Friday is my housework day. The house needs cleaning. Must enlist the husband and start scrubbing. Tonight: I may well drag him out to see Rock of Ages, because the glee with which I anticipate this movie is positively embarrassing. #childofthe80sFTW #rockmyfaceoff #gonnaheadbangwiththebestofthem

Bride of Other: Oh shit, I think this one needs three POV narrators. Well...here goes...

Feels like my breath is heavy again

Here's today's progress on my 19th century D.C. spy caper about a powerful Difference Engine that will end the Civil War - now with warhawk conspiracies, clockwork assassins, two presidents with more in common than they know, three disgraced spies with less in common than they think, and a Bonus! not-at-all mad scientist who can save the world if someone will just give him a chance:
Project: Fiddlehead
Deadline: September 15, 2012
New words written: 2021 (better if not great)
Present total word count: 5041 words





Things accomplished in fiction: Dynamite, deception, the Fiddlehead itself, havoc is wreaked with Science!, and two gunmen who learn a hard lesson about watching their language.

Things accomplished in real life: Yesterday: met up with some friends for lunch, including the pseudo-sister-in-law and the niecelet (who is actually getting to be quite tall, oh my); did lots of writer business, to such an extent that I didn't actually get any writing done, but that happens sometimes; fell asleep on the couch because I was a little bit sick and very, very tired. Today: I ran some errands; moved the birdfeeder so we'd quit tracking seed into the garage (it was really making a mess); changed the HVAC's air filter; made a couple of phone calls; sorted out some money stuff; accepted an invitation to be GoH at an event next year (details to come).

Other: Not a huge word count today, no - but I'm ramping up. Went down an internet rabbit hole learning about flash powder and popcorn. Yes, well. These things happen.

Fiddlehead fits and starts

Here's today's progress on my 19th century D.C. spy caper about a powerful Difference Engine that will end the Civil War - now with warhawk conspiracies, clockwork assassins, two presidents with more in common than they know, three disgraced spies with less in common than they think, and a Bonus! not-at-all mad scientist who can save the world if someone will just give him a chance:
Project: Fiddlehead
Deadline: September 15, 2012
New words written: 1351 (not my finest count)
Present total word count: 3020 words





Things accomplished in fiction: Got chapter one underway. The not-at-all mad scientist is somewhat annoyed at these silly intruders who are trying to kill him and destroy his life's work.

Darling du Jour: "'Yes,'" Gideon breathed, but he did not smile. Turning on the apparatus was not the hard part. It was the first hard part."

Things accomplished in real life: Met an old friend from grad school for lunch, and gossiped about people we haven't seen in ages; picked up a dress I'd left at a seamstress for alterations; drove out to Southeastern Salvage in search of an interior door that will fit our guest/game/cat room, but this proved trickier than we'd hoped; spent awhile on the phone with my stepmom, who (along with my dad) will not be visiting on Thursday after all - due to circumstances beyond their control.

Other: I'm disappointed that the dad/stepmom can't make it this weekend, but hey, they'll be here next month ... which gives me more time to tame the yard jungle and perhaps do a little detail work around the house, including finding a door to fit that damn guest room. It also gives me a chance to get a jump-start on Fiddlehead - which clearly didn't happen today. Tomorrow likely won't be a high word count day either (though you never know), as I have a lunch get-together; my pseudo-sister-in-law is passing through town, so we're trying to arrange a bite to eat with Laura and Mike. Then at three I have an interview with a journalist in North Carolina (in advance of ConTemporal).

Son of Other: I'd actually like to get a little more writing in tonight, but the truth is, I'm exhausted and have a raging headache. Maybe I'll go to bed early, wake up early, and catch some work hours in the a.m. before lunch and interview. What? It could happen. The cat usually gets me up around 8:30 or 9:00 anyway. Somebody has to open the curtains and let in the morning sunbeams. And by "somebody" I mean "yours truly, because the husband's powers of ignore are stronger than mine."