Steven Harper's Blog, page 48
February 26, 2020
Comics and Me
I read and collected comics for years and years. Then, in my mid-twenties, I started writing novels professionally. At the same time, I realized that I hadn't read my way through my Friday stack of comics by the time the next Friday came around. I thought about this, and realized it was because my standards for enjoyable writing had changed. So I dropped comics.
Time passed, and I learned that more and more gay characters were showing up in comics. Intrigued and happy, I picked up bunch and tried to read them. I didn't enjoy them--too many flaws in the writing. (The writing in the Iceman TPB in which he finally tells his parents he's gay was particularly awful. The art was even worse. As one example.) So I stopped again. Now I'm glad to see the movies and TV shows. For those, when the writing is bad, I'm at least guaranteed good visuals!
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Time passed, and I learned that more and more gay characters were showing up in comics. Intrigued and happy, I picked up bunch and tried to read them. I didn't enjoy them--too many flaws in the writing. (The writing in the Iceman TPB in which he finally tells his parents he's gay was particularly awful. The art was even worse. As one example.) So I stopped again. Now I'm glad to see the movies and TV shows. For those, when the writing is bad, I'm at least guaranteed good visuals!
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Mid-Winter Break 2020
I really needed mid-winter break this year. Usually for mid-winter, I'm saying, "We just had a big break! We don't need a week off right now. Let's keep going."
But this year, the winter has been especially gloomy. And wet. And Darwin lives in another town most of the time. And I'm coping with more than the usual bouts of feeling low. So a break? Bring it!
Saturday was spent gaming with old friends, which was very nice. Sunday, we had dinner with my mother, who was overnighting in area before flying out of state, and that also very nice.
The rest of the week, I was in Albion at the new house with Darwin. It was a week of doing little things around the new house--hanging pictures, unpacking the rest of the office (which Darwin mysteriously never got around to doing), putting up the last curtain rod. I cooked in the new kitchen, learning where its snags and corners were. I solidified the plot of a new SF novel and wrote the first two chapters.
And I got to spend time with Darwin. He was still working, of course, but he was home early in the evening. (His commute is literally five minutes.) That was very good. I'm still not sure about dividing our time between two different towns. We fought for the right to get married and live together. Now that we aren't living together, it feels like a loss.
Early on in this, I tried to comfort myself with the idea that lots of married couples live large chunks of time apart. Military families. Families where someone travels for their job a lot. And they adapt. I could too, right?
But now I've realized something else. When you marry someone in the military or who has a travel job, you go into it KNOWING your spouse will be gone quite a lot. I didn't marry Darwin with the expectation I'd rarely see him. I married him IN ORDER to see him. When we got married, there was no separation on the horizon. It never even occurred to either of us.
So I find the idea of military and other couples living apart not at all comforting or supportive.
And I needed the break.
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But this year, the winter has been especially gloomy. And wet. And Darwin lives in another town most of the time. And I'm coping with more than the usual bouts of feeling low. So a break? Bring it!
Saturday was spent gaming with old friends, which was very nice. Sunday, we had dinner with my mother, who was overnighting in area before flying out of state, and that also very nice.
The rest of the week, I was in Albion at the new house with Darwin. It was a week of doing little things around the new house--hanging pictures, unpacking the rest of the office (which Darwin mysteriously never got around to doing), putting up the last curtain rod. I cooked in the new kitchen, learning where its snags and corners were. I solidified the plot of a new SF novel and wrote the first two chapters.
And I got to spend time with Darwin. He was still working, of course, but he was home early in the evening. (His commute is literally five minutes.) That was very good. I'm still not sure about dividing our time between two different towns. We fought for the right to get married and live together. Now that we aren't living together, it feels like a loss.
Early on in this, I tried to comfort myself with the idea that lots of married couples live large chunks of time apart. Military families. Families where someone travels for their job a lot. And they adapt. I could too, right?
But now I've realized something else. When you marry someone in the military or who has a travel job, you go into it KNOWING your spouse will be gone quite a lot. I didn't marry Darwin with the expectation I'd rarely see him. I married him IN ORDER to see him. When we got married, there was no separation on the horizon. It never even occurred to either of us.
So I find the idea of military and other couples living apart not at all comforting or supportive.
And I needed the break.
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February 12, 2020
WTF, Cedar Point?
Apparently Cedar Point, an international-level amusement park, can't bring itself to pay its musicians. https://www.wtol.com/article/news/loc... "This opportunity is paid with accommodations, access to the park and includes a meal and drink plan."
So instead of actually paying you for working for them, they let you into the park (which they have to do anyway, if you're playing there), let you crash on a couch, and toss you a couple of hamburgers. "Oh, but you have the chance for millions of people to hear your music." Yeah--because when people go to Cedar Point and hear a band play, they say, "Goodness! Who is that wonderful band? I shall buy their album forthwith!" The utter contempt Cedar Point holds for artists is shocking, and is only seconded by the self-contempt any band that auditions for them must have. I hope they get no responses.
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So instead of actually paying you for working for them, they let you into the park (which they have to do anyway, if you're playing there), let you crash on a couch, and toss you a couple of hamburgers. "Oh, but you have the chance for millions of people to hear your music." Yeah--because when people go to Cedar Point and hear a band play, they say, "Goodness! Who is that wonderful band? I shall buy their album forthwith!" The utter contempt Cedar Point holds for artists is shocking, and is only seconded by the self-contempt any band that auditions for them must have. I hope they get no responses.
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February 2, 2020
Arrows and Canaries
I finally watched the final episode of ARROW.
I can't say I like the Canaries. If a show based on them actually reaches air, I might give it look, but don't know that I'll stay with them. Why?
Dull characters.
Two of the canaries are exactly alike. Except for hair color, both Dinah and Laurel look alike (same height, same weight, same body type, same makeup style), sound alike (for some reason, they both speak in a low, husky, whisky-soaked voice, and they both sound the same), same inflections (seriously, if you close your eyes, you can't tell them apart), same attitude ("Yeah, I'm a tuff bitch" while slouching on a couch), same drinking habits (sooooo much drinking from all the female characters), and even the same powers (martial arts with staff and a sonic scream that they inexplicably use only once or twice per episode instead of, say, during a fight).
Mia, meanwhile, is a tiny bit different from the other two. Her hair is different. She's younger. She uses martial arts and bow. And . . . well, that's it. Everything else about her is the same as the other two.
Apparently, TV has decided there's only one way to be a tough woman--you have to speak in a deep voice, love to fight, drink hard, have an in-your-face aggressive attitude. Oh wait--that's the stereotype of a tough man.
There are lots of ways to be a tough, strong woman. Putting three tough women on a show and making them all tough the same way is lazy writing--and boring.
Additionally, the stereotype Gay BFF (who will almost certainly be sidelined in every episode and given no steady love interest whatsoever) was barely a presence. No joy there.
So I doubt I'll watch the show again.
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The Grandson and the Trampoline Park
Yesterday, the grandson came up for a visit. I announced we were taking him to the indoor trampoline park just up the road. It's filled with floor-level trampolines, foam pits, zip lines, jumping blocks, and other fun stuff. (Where was this when =I= was ten?) We were bit worried that Noah was too little, but decided to forge ahead anyway.
When we (Darwin, Shane, Noah, and I) arrived, we signed the required "if someone dies, you can't sue us" waiver, then discovered that Noah was so young, he got in free. (!) We only had to buy a pair of rubber-bottomed socks for him--three bucks.
In the jump zone, I set Noah on one of the little trampolines. I thought he might have to be shown what to do, or might need some encouragement. Nope. He set right to jumping and bouncing. He quickly learned the trick of getting on the padded boundaries that run between the trampolines, and ran all over the park, jumping on different trampolines with a huge smile on his face.
We brought him over to the foam pits as well. Here he had endless fun climbing in and out. Darwin gently tossed him into the foam, and he clambered out, grinning the whole time.
And when it was time to go, he didn't throw a tantrum, but accepted his coat and shoes with solemn grace.
Grandpa knows what's fun!
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When we (Darwin, Shane, Noah, and I) arrived, we signed the required "if someone dies, you can't sue us" waiver, then discovered that Noah was so young, he got in free. (!) We only had to buy a pair of rubber-bottomed socks for him--three bucks.
In the jump zone, I set Noah on one of the little trampolines. I thought he might have to be shown what to do, or might need some encouragement. Nope. He set right to jumping and bouncing. He quickly learned the trick of getting on the padded boundaries that run between the trampolines, and ran all over the park, jumping on different trampolines with a huge smile on his face.
We brought him over to the foam pits as well. Here he had endless fun climbing in and out. Darwin gently tossed him into the foam, and he clambered out, grinning the whole time.
And when it was time to go, he didn't throw a tantrum, but accepted his coat and shoes with solemn grace.
Grandpa knows what's fun!
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January 29, 2020
The Cat Cycle
Stage 1: Cat demands to be petted with insistent meows.
Stage 2: Cat receives petting and scratchings.
Stage 3: Cat gets excited about petting and scoots out of arm's reach.
Stage 4: Petting ends. Human shrugs, returns to work.
Stage 5: Cat becomes upset and mystified that petting has ended.
Stage 6: Cat returns to Stage 1.
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Stage 2: Cat receives petting and scratchings.
Stage 3: Cat gets excited about petting and scoots out of arm's reach.
Stage 4: Petting ends. Human shrugs, returns to work.
Stage 5: Cat becomes upset and mystified that petting has ended.
Stage 6: Cat returns to Stage 1.
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January 28, 2020
New SF and Guns!
I just started a new WIP. It's an actual science fiction novel. I pitched the idea at my agent, and she liked it. But I haven't written SF in years. Jeez, I think OFFSPRING in The Silent Empire series was the last one, and that was fifteen years ago!
Now I'm back to it. Space! Ships! Aliens! Laser b--
No.
Weirdly, I can't imagine laser or beam weapons in this universe I'm creating. I don't know why. I have a number of other SF ideas. But the beam weapons stubbornly refuse to exist.
I'll just have to get along with bullets, flechette guns, missiles, grenades, nuclear weapons. Amazing how many ways there are to kill someone.
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Now I'm back to it. Space! Ships! Aliens! Laser b--
No.
Weirdly, I can't imagine laser or beam weapons in this universe I'm creating. I don't know why. I have a number of other SF ideas. But the beam weapons stubbornly refuse to exist.
I'll just have to get along with bullets, flechette guns, missiles, grenades, nuclear weapons. Amazing how many ways there are to kill someone.
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Max the Manager
My son Maksim has taken over as a weekend manager at the fast food restaurant where he works. (!!) The general manager had been after him to become a manager for quite a while, and the moment he turned 18, he started the process. Last Saturday, he ran the closing shift. He's probably the youngest manager the store has ever had! Go him!
It's still a little hard for me to process that in four months he'll graduate high school.
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It's still a little hard for me to process that in four months he'll graduate high school.
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January 12, 2020
Ice-Storm Aftermath (Yawn)
So after two days of ICE STORM! ICE STORM COMING! DID YOU HEAR ABOUT THE AWFUL ICE STORM? alerts from the National Weather Service, the ICE STORM ARRIVED!
It was rain.
All day Saturday, it rained.
ICE IS COMING! shouted the NWS. REALLY! SEVERAL INCHES OF ICE! ANY MINUTE NOW!
The rain continued.
NO, SERIOUSLY! ICE! THERE'S GONNA BE ICE!
And more rain. It rained and rained and rained. Darwin and I stayed in all day, worried that the rain would indeed turn to ice any second and catch us flat if we drove anywhere. Nope. No ice.
Finally, around eleven, the rain slowly . . . slowly . . . turned . . . into . . . sleet. We popped outside to salt the driveway again with more water softener salt. The sleet was more snow than actual sleet. Little pellets of snow, really. We went to bed.
This morning, our driveway is clear, but the street is coated in white frosting. It's not particularly slick. The trees have no ice on them at all.
After all that build-up, we were worried we'd be trapped in the house for days.
Better, I suppose, to be prepared for a dangerous event that never happens than the reverse. However, I'm afraid that at the next one, people will look back at the NWS's reaction to this one and say, "Well, they always exaggerate," and get caught by a truly serious storm.
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It was rain.
All day Saturday, it rained.
ICE IS COMING! shouted the NWS. REALLY! SEVERAL INCHES OF ICE! ANY MINUTE NOW!
The rain continued.
NO, SERIOUSLY! ICE! THERE'S GONNA BE ICE!
And more rain. It rained and rained and rained. Darwin and I stayed in all day, worried that the rain would indeed turn to ice any second and catch us flat if we drove anywhere. Nope. No ice.
Finally, around eleven, the rain slowly . . . slowly . . . turned . . . into . . . sleet. We popped outside to salt the driveway again with more water softener salt. The sleet was more snow than actual sleet. Little pellets of snow, really. We went to bed.
This morning, our driveway is clear, but the street is coated in white frosting. It's not particularly slick. The trees have no ice on them at all.
After all that build-up, we were worried we'd be trapped in the house for days.
Better, I suppose, to be prepared for a dangerous event that never happens than the reverse. However, I'm afraid that at the next one, people will look back at the NWS's reaction to this one and say, "Well, they always exaggerate," and get caught by a truly serious storm.
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January 10, 2020
Hunkering Down
Big ice-storm heading our way. We've prepped. I got the grocery shopping done this afternoon. Darwin drove up from Albion and we went hunting for driveway salt. Couldn't find any, so we bought two bags of water softener salt. Spent several minutes coating the driveway with it.
Right now, a soft fog has enveloped our neighborhood, accompanied with a gentle, misty rain. Hard to believe this will transform itself into a raging monster tomorrow.
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Right now, a soft fog has enveloped our neighborhood, accompanied with a gentle, misty rain. Hard to believe this will transform itself into a raging monster tomorrow.
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