Lyda Morehouse's Blog, page 12
January 16, 2016
Reacting Badly and "Secret Handshakes"
The Internet landed on Neil Gaiman's head.
Luckily, that soft, curly mop of hair will deflect much of the impact. I'm not worried about Gaiman. Gaiman will be fine, I'm sure.
Also, it seems very clear to most people that what Gaiman said was meant as an advert/squee/general endorsement, not Word of God. If you don't want to read the whole article, the short of it is that, in an effort to promote the opening of enrollment of Clarion, a long-standing writers' workshop, Gaiman suggested that writers "need, NEED" to go to Clarion. He's already answered a dozen accusations by clarifying that he didn't mean to imply that anyone who didn't go to Clarion wasn't a real writer (especially since that would include himself), he was just being an enthusiastic supporter, and that all a writer needs to do to be a writer is write.
In fact, most of the people I'm friends with on Facebook, seem completely baffled as to why Gaiman got dumped on with such vitriol.
I'm not.
Yes, the only thing that makes you a writer is if you write. However, writing is NOT the same as publishing. Publishing is a for-profit business, and it is inherently unfair from start to finish. There are thousands and thousands of excellent and talented writers out there. Conversely, there are only so many slots in traditional publishing houses for all that talent to go.
I could go on about it, but I'm not going to waste space telling you what most of you already know: getting published is hard, often impossible. It's heart breaking. It's soul killing. And, yet, other people seem to be able to do it, and so you start casting around, wondering, what the hell, how did they do it, when I can't???!!
Cue: Clarion.
Clarion is an expensive, in-person, live-in, SIX WEEK writers' workshop. There are two of them (or at least there used to be: one in the east, in Michigan, and one the west, in California, I think.) You pay not only the attendance fee, but your own travel, board, and expenses.(There's at least one scholarship available, however.) The trade off is that you get six weeks of writing instruction (and writing time) not only with your peers in the field, but also with people like Neil Gaiman as your teachers. Usually, also, there's at least one editor who attends, so you're guaranteed a chance to get in-person feedback from someone who could actually forward your career in one way or another.
This is, in point of fact, a HUGE leg-up.
As I said before, publishing is a business. In business, you need contacts, networking skills. Clarion provides a singular opportunity for these. In fact, I still tell my students to consider going, if they can afford it. I feel like Clarion also gives writers and opportunity to really "level up" as the kids would say, in terms of writing craft, skill, because it is so intensive.
When Clarion would have been advantageous for me, I could have *maybe* scrapped together enough to go, but I couldn't have taken that much time off from work. So, I didn't go, but, man, I wanted to.
Dozens of my friends went. (That's not even hyperbole, Minneapolis/St. Paul has a huge SF/F writing community and at the time I was deep, deep into it.) I was pretty damn envious of all the war stories they told, the t-shirt they came back with, and the people I considered SF/F celebrities that they now knew when they went to WorldCons or elsewhere. It felt, from the outside, like an exclusive membership. Like they really HAD gotten VIP access badges or some secret handshake that I didn't. In a way, they did have their own language. At cons, alum would greet each other with cries of "West '92!" or "East '08!" and I always wanted to join in with something like, "Bravo! Zulu! Charlie!" because... well, because I'm a weirdo.
But, so the point is... I can understand why some people piled on Neil's comment. There's lots about the unfairness of publishing to be angry about. It's also especially painful when it feels like the barrier between getting into the cool, insider club is money. And time. And also: this.
I'm not saying that's the truth. Clarion is expensive, but they're not making money hand over fist either. In fact, they've had a lot of trouble with solvency. East may have folded. I know it was in danger of doing so a couple of years ago.
I'm just saying I can understand why people reacted the way they did.
Of course, Clarion isn't the answer any more than anything else is. I know plenty of Clarion alum who published, but I know more who didn't. I even know several alum who stopped writing entirely.
So, even this HUGE advantage isn't a guarantee of success. In a way, that's why people are mad. There isn't any magic entry. Not even talent or skill. (That a lie we tell ourselves, but go read something like Fifty Shades of Gray and explain to me how talent was the key to success there.) Some people literally luck out, and that's almost all there is to it. Persistence being the other major factor, but, on the other hand, I've known people to beat their heads bloody against that barrier to publishing, too. So, even being persistent isn't a guarantee. So, of course, people are angry. Of course they're mad at Neil for seeming to suggest that the magic key is to buy your way into the kingdom. And maybe they're like I was, those years ago, staring, green-eyed, at all the Clarion alum who seem to have some advantage they don't. That's maddening too. The whole business is maddening.
This is why I tell my students that they'd better have a reason they write that has nothing to do with being published. I tell them over and over, you need something to fuel your spirits and keep yourself going. You need to love the process and celebrate it. You need to know that you'd do it anyway, even if nothing ever comes of it.
Because you might get lucky. I did.
Luckily, that soft, curly mop of hair will deflect much of the impact. I'm not worried about Gaiman. Gaiman will be fine, I'm sure.
Also, it seems very clear to most people that what Gaiman said was meant as an advert/squee/general endorsement, not Word of God. If you don't want to read the whole article, the short of it is that, in an effort to promote the opening of enrollment of Clarion, a long-standing writers' workshop, Gaiman suggested that writers "need, NEED" to go to Clarion. He's already answered a dozen accusations by clarifying that he didn't mean to imply that anyone who didn't go to Clarion wasn't a real writer (especially since that would include himself), he was just being an enthusiastic supporter, and that all a writer needs to do to be a writer is write.
In fact, most of the people I'm friends with on Facebook, seem completely baffled as to why Gaiman got dumped on with such vitriol.
I'm not.
Yes, the only thing that makes you a writer is if you write. However, writing is NOT the same as publishing. Publishing is a for-profit business, and it is inherently unfair from start to finish. There are thousands and thousands of excellent and talented writers out there. Conversely, there are only so many slots in traditional publishing houses for all that talent to go.
I could go on about it, but I'm not going to waste space telling you what most of you already know: getting published is hard, often impossible. It's heart breaking. It's soul killing. And, yet, other people seem to be able to do it, and so you start casting around, wondering, what the hell, how did they do it, when I can't???!!
Cue: Clarion.
Clarion is an expensive, in-person, live-in, SIX WEEK writers' workshop. There are two of them (or at least there used to be: one in the east, in Michigan, and one the west, in California, I think.) You pay not only the attendance fee, but your own travel, board, and expenses.(There's at least one scholarship available, however.) The trade off is that you get six weeks of writing instruction (and writing time) not only with your peers in the field, but also with people like Neil Gaiman as your teachers. Usually, also, there's at least one editor who attends, so you're guaranteed a chance to get in-person feedback from someone who could actually forward your career in one way or another.
This is, in point of fact, a HUGE leg-up.
As I said before, publishing is a business. In business, you need contacts, networking skills. Clarion provides a singular opportunity for these. In fact, I still tell my students to consider going, if they can afford it. I feel like Clarion also gives writers and opportunity to really "level up" as the kids would say, in terms of writing craft, skill, because it is so intensive.
When Clarion would have been advantageous for me, I could have *maybe* scrapped together enough to go, but I couldn't have taken that much time off from work. So, I didn't go, but, man, I wanted to.
Dozens of my friends went. (That's not even hyperbole, Minneapolis/St. Paul has a huge SF/F writing community and at the time I was deep, deep into it.) I was pretty damn envious of all the war stories they told, the t-shirt they came back with, and the people I considered SF/F celebrities that they now knew when they went to WorldCons or elsewhere. It felt, from the outside, like an exclusive membership. Like they really HAD gotten VIP access badges or some secret handshake that I didn't. In a way, they did have their own language. At cons, alum would greet each other with cries of "West '92!" or "East '08!" and I always wanted to join in with something like, "Bravo! Zulu! Charlie!" because... well, because I'm a weirdo.
But, so the point is... I can understand why some people piled on Neil's comment. There's lots about the unfairness of publishing to be angry about. It's also especially painful when it feels like the barrier between getting into the cool, insider club is money. And time. And also: this.
I'm not saying that's the truth. Clarion is expensive, but they're not making money hand over fist either. In fact, they've had a lot of trouble with solvency. East may have folded. I know it was in danger of doing so a couple of years ago.
I'm just saying I can understand why people reacted the way they did.
Of course, Clarion isn't the answer any more than anything else is. I know plenty of Clarion alum who published, but I know more who didn't. I even know several alum who stopped writing entirely.
So, even this HUGE advantage isn't a guarantee of success. In a way, that's why people are mad. There isn't any magic entry. Not even talent or skill. (That a lie we tell ourselves, but go read something like Fifty Shades of Gray and explain to me how talent was the key to success there.) Some people literally luck out, and that's almost all there is to it. Persistence being the other major factor, but, on the other hand, I've known people to beat their heads bloody against that barrier to publishing, too. So, even being persistent isn't a guarantee. So, of course, people are angry. Of course they're mad at Neil for seeming to suggest that the magic key is to buy your way into the kingdom. And maybe they're like I was, those years ago, staring, green-eyed, at all the Clarion alum who seem to have some advantage they don't. That's maddening too. The whole business is maddening.
This is why I tell my students that they'd better have a reason they write that has nothing to do with being published. I tell them over and over, you need something to fuel your spirits and keep yourself going. You need to love the process and celebrate it. You need to know that you'd do it anyway, even if nothing ever comes of it.
Because you might get lucky. I did.
January 15, 2016
New Year, Same Reading Challenge
I decided to do one more year reviewing award-nominees.
I will admit that part of the reason that I agreed to do the same challenge again (particularly in my role as SF/F book reviewer for Bitter Empire) is that I'm going to be attending WorldCON this year--and this is going to be another Year of the Puppy and I might like to be able to do some live-tweeting of the award ceremony for BE.
I have a couple of books that I'm reading to finish out last years' awards, but the Philip K. Dick Award nominees are out:
Edge of Dark, Brenda Cooper (Pyr)
After the Saucers Landed, Douglas Lain (Night Shade)
(R)evolution, PJ Manney (47North)
Apex, Ramez Naam (Angry Robot)
Windswept, Adam Rakunas (Angry Robot)
Archangel, Marguerite Reed (Arche)
I just bought Archangel for my Kindle, partly out of favoritism and curiosity. A number of my Facebook friends are friends with Marguerite Reed and so I'm deeply curious what her book is going to be like.
I'm looking forward to doing this again, if only because I have to say this last year exposed me to a lot of books that I otherwise normally would never have sought out. Grasshopper Jungle by Andrew Smith? Yeah, I probably would have looked at that description and thought, "NOPE." (But I ended up really loving it.) And there have been a lot of UK and British awards that exposed me to people I just wasn't terribly familiar with, but, at least in one case, now adore. Frances Hardinge, for instance. She's the author of Cuckoo's Song, which I adored, and The Lie Tree, which I just finished because that one was up for an end-of-the-year award.
Also, it's really good for me to have a structure to have to try to follow. I tend to flounder around when I'm just randomly trying to pick book for myself.
Anyway, I don't have a lot of other news. I'm mostly just surviving the continued threat of Mercury Retrograde. Yesterday, the planet's malevolent influence was mostly felt through some minor-to-midland bickering about school work with Mason. It worked out in the end, but it made the start to the morning more difficult. Today was forgotten gym clothes--which we remembered in time to turn around a fetch, but caused a slight kerfluffle. Shawn's back has also gone out, so that's less that optimal, as they say. So we continue to limp along... stumbling at every turn.
I will admit that part of the reason that I agreed to do the same challenge again (particularly in my role as SF/F book reviewer for Bitter Empire) is that I'm going to be attending WorldCON this year--and this is going to be another Year of the Puppy and I might like to be able to do some live-tweeting of the award ceremony for BE.
I have a couple of books that I'm reading to finish out last years' awards, but the Philip K. Dick Award nominees are out:
Edge of Dark, Brenda Cooper (Pyr)
After the Saucers Landed, Douglas Lain (Night Shade)
(R)evolution, PJ Manney (47North)
Apex, Ramez Naam (Angry Robot)
Windswept, Adam Rakunas (Angry Robot)
Archangel, Marguerite Reed (Arche)
I just bought Archangel for my Kindle, partly out of favoritism and curiosity. A number of my Facebook friends are friends with Marguerite Reed and so I'm deeply curious what her book is going to be like.
I'm looking forward to doing this again, if only because I have to say this last year exposed me to a lot of books that I otherwise normally would never have sought out. Grasshopper Jungle by Andrew Smith? Yeah, I probably would have looked at that description and thought, "NOPE." (But I ended up really loving it.) And there have been a lot of UK and British awards that exposed me to people I just wasn't terribly familiar with, but, at least in one case, now adore. Frances Hardinge, for instance. She's the author of Cuckoo's Song, which I adored, and The Lie Tree, which I just finished because that one was up for an end-of-the-year award.
Also, it's really good for me to have a structure to have to try to follow. I tend to flounder around when I'm just randomly trying to pick book for myself.
Anyway, I don't have a lot of other news. I'm mostly just surviving the continued threat of Mercury Retrograde. Yesterday, the planet's malevolent influence was mostly felt through some minor-to-midland bickering about school work with Mason. It worked out in the end, but it made the start to the morning more difficult. Today was forgotten gym clothes--which we remembered in time to turn around a fetch, but caused a slight kerfluffle. Shawn's back has also gone out, so that's less that optimal, as they say. So we continue to limp along... stumbling at every turn.
January 13, 2016
On the Up (Despite Mercury Retrograde)
I went to the chiropractor today and I said, "I don't know if I'm hallucinating, but I feel 100% cured." Dr. Matt agreed with me. We're going to stop seeing each other, except occasionally.
So, that's a yay!
Today continues a series I should probably call, "Adventures in Mercury Retrograde." Nothing that's happen has been horrible, just a lot of little irritations and several "oh, wait, did I say THAT? I meant THIS." Or just dumb logistics screw-ups. Like today... apparently some time ago when I was making the schedule with my coordinator at the libraries, I agreed to work UNTIL 3 pm. Apparently, it SLIPPED MY MIND THAT I CAN NOT TELEPORT.
Mason is out of school AT 3 pm. Working until 3 maybe-sort-of seems like it could work, except that instantaneous travel doesn't actually exist yet. So, we had to do some finagling. Mason has agreed to silently suffer by hanging out at McDonald's (about a block or so from his school) and wait for me there. I'm also going to try to show up early so I can beg off a few minutes early... because what kind of moron schedules like this? But, as Mason and Shawn agreed, it's only this one time and thus, not the end of the world. Plus, if anyone in my family really wanted not to wait, both of them could easily take the city bus/light rail home.
Probably some of you are wondering why my partner doesn't just pick Mason up from school. The answer is probably shocking to many of you who are Americans. We only have one car. Yeah, I know, crazy right? Well, truthfully, it is a bit crazy at times, and sometimes I do wish we had another car available, particularly on days like today or when Steve (our car) is acting up.
But, most of the time one car works just fine for us. Plus, it's a good excuse to NEVER work a stupid shift like this again. Seriously? What was I thinking? After all, the very BEST part of being a sub is getting to say, "Yeah, no, actually that doesn't work for me."
Yesterday was actually a pretty good day, all and all. I feel like it started tough. Oh, yeah... I broke Shawn's dresser. That was pretty spectacular. And, in the way of Mercury Retrograde, I broke it while trying to help her get a drawer back in. I had an appointment to see someone at 9 (my friend Jack who is going to do the audio books for the AngeLINK series), but when I came home I spent several hours fixing the dresser drawers (and the dresser itself, because, of course, the minute I worked out one problem, another one developed. This is a VERY old dresser and wasn't terribly stable when we got it. Super well constructed originally, though. It's old enough to entirely be dove jointed. There's not a nail in the thing, except the ones idiots added later. I pulled all those out.)
But, I actually had a really great time with Jack, who I only knew, previously, tangentially through my friend and fellow Wyrdsmith, Theo. The company we're working through is ACX (Audiobook Creation Exchange.) It's a pretty cool deal that connects writers to voice actors. The actual royalty split is kind of crappy (20/20, with 60 percent going to Amazon, who is the owner of the company), but, on the other hand, because it's an Amazon company, the audio books automatically show up in their inventory as well as Audible.com and a bunch of other audio book distributors (even iTunes, I'm pretty sure). And, as has been my theme this year, "they were otherwise only collecting pixel dust, so I might as well do SOMETHING with them." But, so Jack was super-helpful and talked this old lady through the process of getting my books up and all that. I've only got one more hoop to jump through before I can offer the work to Jack and let the process roll.
But of course there was that minor snag, because: Mercury.
And, because I'm new to ACX, I'm getting auditions and am now in the awkward position of having to say, "Uh, I actually already have someone in mind... and because I'm new to this I don't know how to reserve my titles until I fix a bank related issue... sorry to have wasted your time!" The only good news is that, BECAUSE I have Jack in mind, all my audition pieces are only about a paragraph (most people post several pages), so none of the voice actors are wasting too much of their time recording the auditions. Still, I shake my fist at the skies and sigh, "Ah, Mercury!"
But, again, so far, nothing terrible, just annoying. Fingers crossed that continues in today's adventures in bad logistics.
So, that's a yay!
Today continues a series I should probably call, "Adventures in Mercury Retrograde." Nothing that's happen has been horrible, just a lot of little irritations and several "oh, wait, did I say THAT? I meant THIS." Or just dumb logistics screw-ups. Like today... apparently some time ago when I was making the schedule with my coordinator at the libraries, I agreed to work UNTIL 3 pm. Apparently, it SLIPPED MY MIND THAT I CAN NOT TELEPORT.
Mason is out of school AT 3 pm. Working until 3 maybe-sort-of seems like it could work, except that instantaneous travel doesn't actually exist yet. So, we had to do some finagling. Mason has agreed to silently suffer by hanging out at McDonald's (about a block or so from his school) and wait for me there. I'm also going to try to show up early so I can beg off a few minutes early... because what kind of moron schedules like this? But, as Mason and Shawn agreed, it's only this one time and thus, not the end of the world. Plus, if anyone in my family really wanted not to wait, both of them could easily take the city bus/light rail home.
Probably some of you are wondering why my partner doesn't just pick Mason up from school. The answer is probably shocking to many of you who are Americans. We only have one car. Yeah, I know, crazy right? Well, truthfully, it is a bit crazy at times, and sometimes I do wish we had another car available, particularly on days like today or when Steve (our car) is acting up.
But, most of the time one car works just fine for us. Plus, it's a good excuse to NEVER work a stupid shift like this again. Seriously? What was I thinking? After all, the very BEST part of being a sub is getting to say, "Yeah, no, actually that doesn't work for me."
Yesterday was actually a pretty good day, all and all. I feel like it started tough. Oh, yeah... I broke Shawn's dresser. That was pretty spectacular. And, in the way of Mercury Retrograde, I broke it while trying to help her get a drawer back in. I had an appointment to see someone at 9 (my friend Jack who is going to do the audio books for the AngeLINK series), but when I came home I spent several hours fixing the dresser drawers (and the dresser itself, because, of course, the minute I worked out one problem, another one developed. This is a VERY old dresser and wasn't terribly stable when we got it. Super well constructed originally, though. It's old enough to entirely be dove jointed. There's not a nail in the thing, except the ones idiots added later. I pulled all those out.)
But, I actually had a really great time with Jack, who I only knew, previously, tangentially through my friend and fellow Wyrdsmith, Theo. The company we're working through is ACX (Audiobook Creation Exchange.) It's a pretty cool deal that connects writers to voice actors. The actual royalty split is kind of crappy (20/20, with 60 percent going to Amazon, who is the owner of the company), but, on the other hand, because it's an Amazon company, the audio books automatically show up in their inventory as well as Audible.com and a bunch of other audio book distributors (even iTunes, I'm pretty sure). And, as has been my theme this year, "they were otherwise only collecting pixel dust, so I might as well do SOMETHING with them." But, so Jack was super-helpful and talked this old lady through the process of getting my books up and all that. I've only got one more hoop to jump through before I can offer the work to Jack and let the process roll.
But of course there was that minor snag, because: Mercury.
And, because I'm new to ACX, I'm getting auditions and am now in the awkward position of having to say, "Uh, I actually already have someone in mind... and because I'm new to this I don't know how to reserve my titles until I fix a bank related issue... sorry to have wasted your time!" The only good news is that, BECAUSE I have Jack in mind, all my audition pieces are only about a paragraph (most people post several pages), so none of the voice actors are wasting too much of their time recording the auditions. Still, I shake my fist at the skies and sigh, "Ah, Mercury!"
But, again, so far, nothing terrible, just annoying. Fingers crossed that continues in today's adventures in bad logistics.
January 11, 2016
Quit Early, Am Eating All the Cookies...
Damn you, Mercury Retrograde! *shakes fist at skies*
Today was so classically Mercury Retrograde, too, almost from the start.... Mason woke up with spots on his face. We noticed some redness after he'd gone ice skating on the super-cold Saturday night, but totally chalked it up as windburn. This morning? It looked much bigger, much blotchier, so we made the executive decision to keep him home for the morning, or at least until we could get him in to see the doctor. Mason has had Fifth Disease in the past (not nearly as horrible as it sounds, it's just a facial rash, but it has that name because it was the Fifth rash to be categorized an it didn't end up with a cooler name, like Mumps.) Fifth can come back, is treatable, but highly contagious. So we thought we'd better rule out a contagion before sending him into the teaming horde that is middle/high school.
Only... we got THE bad doctor.
Shawn is the one in our family that remembers this stuff, and she was out with a migraine. So it was down to Mason and I to remember which of the pediatricians we usually see is the one who consistently misdiagnoses Mason---once so badly that her, "eh, it's nothing," ended in a trip to the Emergency Room THE VERY NEXT DAY.
And... we guessed wrong.
Mason is also now the age where he can (and should, IMHO) go into the doctor's office without a parent chaperone. If he wants to ask private questions, I don't want my presence to be the difference between him getting information and not, if you know what I mean. Plus, it's an easy way NOT to be a helicopter parent. BUT had I known we'd picked the 'bad' doctor, I would have just insisted that I come in to help advocate. As it was, she said, "Meh, windburn"...
...so we'll probably end up doing all this again when things get worse.
But hopefully, they won't.
The whole experience served to only make Mason grumpy and going to school that much more frustrating. It didn't help that we bickered about whether or not he should have to go in, after all--the ironic part being that *my* argument was 'you don't have to, but you were the one who wanted to go to the math meet, since it's your last one..." I found out at school that Mason has no idea what his locker combination is, and hasn't for most of the school year.... he's just been hauling all his stuff around all day.
*sighs*
Anyway, I eventually got Shawn into work, but by this time, all I wanted was a big Do Over button to push. Which, I kind of did, by doing the dishes and watching another episode of "Psycho Pass" (my current anime). I also decided to cancel with my friend Theo's friend Jack, who is, among other things, a voice actor, and who is going to be working with me to bring YOU audio versions of the AngeLINK books. I've re-arranged with Jack to hopefully see them early tomorrow morning and get this thing done! Because how cool would that be?
So my day? Mom Gave Up and Is Eating All the Cookies. But cookies are yummy, so it could be worse.
Today was so classically Mercury Retrograde, too, almost from the start.... Mason woke up with spots on his face. We noticed some redness after he'd gone ice skating on the super-cold Saturday night, but totally chalked it up as windburn. This morning? It looked much bigger, much blotchier, so we made the executive decision to keep him home for the morning, or at least until we could get him in to see the doctor. Mason has had Fifth Disease in the past (not nearly as horrible as it sounds, it's just a facial rash, but it has that name because it was the Fifth rash to be categorized an it didn't end up with a cooler name, like Mumps.) Fifth can come back, is treatable, but highly contagious. So we thought we'd better rule out a contagion before sending him into the teaming horde that is middle/high school.
Only... we got THE bad doctor.
Shawn is the one in our family that remembers this stuff, and she was out with a migraine. So it was down to Mason and I to remember which of the pediatricians we usually see is the one who consistently misdiagnoses Mason---once so badly that her, "eh, it's nothing," ended in a trip to the Emergency Room THE VERY NEXT DAY.
And... we guessed wrong.
Mason is also now the age where he can (and should, IMHO) go into the doctor's office without a parent chaperone. If he wants to ask private questions, I don't want my presence to be the difference between him getting information and not, if you know what I mean. Plus, it's an easy way NOT to be a helicopter parent. BUT had I known we'd picked the 'bad' doctor, I would have just insisted that I come in to help advocate. As it was, she said, "Meh, windburn"...
...so we'll probably end up doing all this again when things get worse.
But hopefully, they won't.
The whole experience served to only make Mason grumpy and going to school that much more frustrating. It didn't help that we bickered about whether or not he should have to go in, after all--the ironic part being that *my* argument was 'you don't have to, but you were the one who wanted to go to the math meet, since it's your last one..." I found out at school that Mason has no idea what his locker combination is, and hasn't for most of the school year.... he's just been hauling all his stuff around all day.
*sighs*
Anyway, I eventually got Shawn into work, but by this time, all I wanted was a big Do Over button to push. Which, I kind of did, by doing the dishes and watching another episode of "Psycho Pass" (my current anime). I also decided to cancel with my friend Theo's friend Jack, who is, among other things, a voice actor, and who is going to be working with me to bring YOU audio versions of the AngeLINK books. I've re-arranged with Jack to hopefully see them early tomorrow morning and get this thing done! Because how cool would that be?
So my day? Mom Gave Up and Is Eating All the Cookies. But cookies are yummy, so it could be worse.
January 8, 2016
Knowing is Half the Baffle
As you know, Bob, our household has to wake up at 5:30 am in order to get prepped and such in time to take everyone to school. Over winter break, I'm happy to say that we spent two glorious weeks sleeping in until awoken naturally--either by sunlight or just plain having gotten enough rest. Those halcyon days are gone, my friends, and OMG am I paying the price. Particularly since, last night, I was scheduled to work at Maplewood Library.
Normally, I can't complain about my working situation. It's utterly enviable, and I know it. I hardly ever am required to work more than four hours a shift and I work... MAYBE once a week? Seriously, it's an awesome, awesome job with extra helpings of awesome since it is at a library and I spend my four hours surrounded by books. (So much AWESOME.) Plus, other than the fact that I do spend all four hours on my feet, it is literally the easiest job in the world for me. The requirements? To speak English well enough to know the order of the alphabet. TBF, sometimes that's a bit hard for me, but mostly? I got this. (Besides, there's this song I can sing when I get stuck on the alphabet, so you know a job is good when the hardest days are ones when you have to sing the most.)
BUT, okay, I have ONE SMALL COMPLAINT. That is: evening hours at the library require me to stay up a WHOLE HOUR past my bedtime. I thought I might actually collapse from tiredness somewhere around 8:30 pm last night. And this morning I've been almost hilariously misreading nearly every post I've seen on Facebook. Hence, the title of this blog... though I have to admit that I rather like the implications of "knowing is half the baffle," so that might become my new battle cry.
Speaking of new battle cries, I've decided this year that when I'm angry at some yahoo on social media, I'm going to insult them exclusively from lyrics in the Grinch song. This morning I told Shawn that she was "a bad banana with a greasy black peel." So, watch out, my friends. If I'm really mad at you, you might see this in your in-box, "Three words that best describe you are as follows, and I quote: Stink. Stank. STUNK."
Of course, this is going to require that I have the song either memorized or at hand when I'm unreasonably angry, so probably this new year's resolution will go down the toilet pretty quickly, like most of them do. HOWEVER, I'm going to Do My BEST as is often said in Japanese "Gambetta!"
I think this is a Very Important new years' resolution. I mean, everyone vows to lose weight, eat right, and exercise more. Me, I'm going to Grinch Insult people.
Mason has vowed to memorize the Periodic Table of Elements, so that's a nicely unusual one, too. How about you? Anything out of the ordinary?
Normally, I can't complain about my working situation. It's utterly enviable, and I know it. I hardly ever am required to work more than four hours a shift and I work... MAYBE once a week? Seriously, it's an awesome, awesome job with extra helpings of awesome since it is at a library and I spend my four hours surrounded by books. (So much AWESOME.) Plus, other than the fact that I do spend all four hours on my feet, it is literally the easiest job in the world for me. The requirements? To speak English well enough to know the order of the alphabet. TBF, sometimes that's a bit hard for me, but mostly? I got this. (Besides, there's this song I can sing when I get stuck on the alphabet, so you know a job is good when the hardest days are ones when you have to sing the most.)
BUT, okay, I have ONE SMALL COMPLAINT. That is: evening hours at the library require me to stay up a WHOLE HOUR past my bedtime. I thought I might actually collapse from tiredness somewhere around 8:30 pm last night. And this morning I've been almost hilariously misreading nearly every post I've seen on Facebook. Hence, the title of this blog... though I have to admit that I rather like the implications of "knowing is half the baffle," so that might become my new battle cry.
Speaking of new battle cries, I've decided this year that when I'm angry at some yahoo on social media, I'm going to insult them exclusively from lyrics in the Grinch song. This morning I told Shawn that she was "a bad banana with a greasy black peel." So, watch out, my friends. If I'm really mad at you, you might see this in your in-box, "Three words that best describe you are as follows, and I quote: Stink. Stank. STUNK."
Of course, this is going to require that I have the song either memorized or at hand when I'm unreasonably angry, so probably this new year's resolution will go down the toilet pretty quickly, like most of them do. HOWEVER, I'm going to Do My BEST as is often said in Japanese "Gambetta!"
I think this is a Very Important new years' resolution. I mean, everyone vows to lose weight, eat right, and exercise more. Me, I'm going to Grinch Insult people.
Mason has vowed to memorize the Periodic Table of Elements, so that's a nicely unusual one, too. How about you? Anything out of the ordinary?
December 26, 2015
Happy Holidays
How was your holiday?
I have to say this was a really good year for my family, so far. Shawn is really very amazing at getting gifts for me. (In comparison, I'm kind of a dud. But I believe in buying what people ASK for and Shawn has learned to leave me huge hints, like emailing me links to the books she wants.) This year, Shawn LITERALLY bought me something I didn't know I wanted until I had it. It was part of a themed set of presents: stationary (because I have pen pals I write _actual_ letters to), an address book, and stamps. Only the stamps? They were old stamps. Old? Yep. And I was thrilled!
Because.... and I bet you didn't know this about me, but I collect stamps.
It's a very on again, off again, spontaneous sort of hobby for me. I do it when I think of it. I bought a stamp album back in the 1970s at some point that came with a starter pack. I stuck those stamps in their spots and kind of mostly forgot about it, except when a random, interesting stamp would come by. Then, I'd pull out the album and hunt around, put the stamp in its spot... and then forget again. I probably would have forgotten altogether, but, in the 90s, I worked at an archive, the Immigration History Research Center, as a secretary. I was friends with all the archivists/processors and there was a big set of correspondences that came through. I ended up helping the processor remove the staples (some of which were already rusting the paper) and discard the envelopes (which weren't historically valuable and were taking up box space.) As I gathered up the envelopes, I asked, "Hey, would it be okay if I take these stamps?" There was some discussion, and it was decided that I could.
This is how it is that I've come to have a fairly complete, extensive collection of American World War II stamps. (I have a fair number from the post- and pre-war years, too.)
But, again, I mostly didn't think of it again until Shawn bought me these packs of stamps. I had such fun these last couple of days going through the "grab bags" and filling holes in my collection. I can't even explain this pleasure, because it's really not even about *having* the thing. Like, I have no sense of the value of any of these. In fact, I'm quite certain they're worthless. But, I get such a thrill when I find a missing one in my album and stick it in.
Maybe it's like coloring. I just like doing a simple, fairly mindless task that involves interesting history and pretty pictures. Or Pokemon. I like having a complete collection.
I had so much fun these last few days that I went and bought myself EVEN MORE stamps from e-Bay.
The only drawback is that I hunch over the desk as I do it, and my back gets all twisty and sore. Which reminds me, I should report on my latest doctors' appointments. Last Wednesday was fairly busy. I had an appointment with my chiropractor. I don't know if I told you that I went ahead and booked the hour long massage that Dr. Matt gave me as a gift for my birthday? Well, I did that on Monday and they neglected to tell me that this was a THERAPEUTIC massage. No candles and Zen music. The masseuse pounded on me. In some places, fairly painfully. I thought, "Well, this sucks. I'm never doing this again." I complained about it for about a day and a half while drinking the required water and then suddenly... everything felt amazing. I mean, places that had been aching in a very background way? GONE. So the chiro went really well, too, on Wednesday. As I told Dr. Matt, I'm feeling pretty much fixed. Yeah, I have to watch my posture or I get all stiff and sore, but I'm 48. That's par for the course. The only weird thing remaining is the random blasts of numbness in my index and middle fingers of my left hand.
But I had a neurology appointment later that same day....
Which was... well, frankly, it was awful. There wasn't anything WRONG with my experience on the surface, except that it was so TYPICAL of Western/modern medicine. Dr. Johnson breezed into the office and had me repeat all the stuff I'd already told his nurse. He nodded along and asked if I had any weakness in my left hand. I said, none that I've noticed. But, he did some tests that proved me wrong. While he was doing his battery of exam tests he made some disparaging comment about how the insurance companies make him go through these things, and I said, "Are you saying you never find out anything useful?" "Oh," he says, "Occasionally, I hear something in the arteries, especially with older patients." And, I'm thinking, so.... these useless tests helped someone BE AWARE THEY MIGHT HAVE A STROKE IN THE NEAR FUTURE. Yeah, those dumb insurance companies, what ARE they thinking???
But, I don't say that, because there's something about Dr. Johnson that doesn't really engender conversation. I'd tried a couple of times earlier. Dude actually has a black doctor's bag and I tried to make a little conversation about it, because, c'mon, a black doctor's bag! How cool is that? But, nope. He was very practical in his response and a "can we please stay on task" sigh.
I don't trust people who can't be distracted by interesting things.
Seriously, he was similarly uninterested when I interrupted him to point out that it was snowing. (We have had no snow here in Minnesota, and most people were anxiously watching the skies to see if we might end up with a dusting before Christamas.) He was very, "Oh. Huh." Clearly, the man is dead inside. :-)
At any rate, after the tests are done, Dr. Johnson says that it's pretty clear that I have a pinched nerve. He can even name the possible one (7?) because of where I'm experiencing numbness. BUT, he wants me to have an MRI and an EEG just to be sure. I ask, so what all this for? What's the point? Is this the sort of thing that can fix itself with physical therapy, time, or what? He's very much of the idea that surgery is a great idea.
Really?
For a bit of numbness?
SURGERY.
I told him that I had to respectfully disagree. I would try physical therapy. He was very "..." Like, no one ever, in his entire life said to him, "You know what, Dr. Johnson? No."
He was also very, VERY eager to know if I had "good" insurance, and wanted to be sure to schedule the MRI for the end of the year because, ha-ha, "it's the end of the year rush." (Like there's a f*cking sale on the things.)
I declined the MRI and EEG. Thank you anyway, Dr. Johnson, but, the thing is, the one is scary and expensive, the other is terrifying and painful as fuck. (Shawn's had both.) It's only going to confirm what absolutely everyone already knows. I have a pinched nerve. My nurse-practitioner knew that the day I first walked in. My chiropractor, too. In fact, my nurse practitioner was a little worried this would happen. She almost didn't send me on to the neurologist because, she said, "then there will be a big push to fix things which might just fix themselves with time."
My plan is time and continued physical therapy, including chiro. If my numbness doesn't get better in a year, I'm happy to revisit this. Or, obviously, if things suddenly get worse. But, I'm going to wager they won't. I'm already noticing (especially now that I'm paying close attention) that the numbness is lessening. It used to be that every time I bent over I'd get sudden shooting, fierce numbness. Now it's every other time... and sometimes not at all.
So, yeah, no. The neurology appointment was a bad idea from start to finish. I should have gone with my nurse-practitioner's gut instinct. But, you say to yourself, "I should cover all my bases, right?" And, right, you should, but not when it leads to unnecessary surgery. (or tests.)
I have to say this was a really good year for my family, so far. Shawn is really very amazing at getting gifts for me. (In comparison, I'm kind of a dud. But I believe in buying what people ASK for and Shawn has learned to leave me huge hints, like emailing me links to the books she wants.) This year, Shawn LITERALLY bought me something I didn't know I wanted until I had it. It was part of a themed set of presents: stationary (because I have pen pals I write _actual_ letters to), an address book, and stamps. Only the stamps? They were old stamps. Old? Yep. And I was thrilled!
Because.... and I bet you didn't know this about me, but I collect stamps.
It's a very on again, off again, spontaneous sort of hobby for me. I do it when I think of it. I bought a stamp album back in the 1970s at some point that came with a starter pack. I stuck those stamps in their spots and kind of mostly forgot about it, except when a random, interesting stamp would come by. Then, I'd pull out the album and hunt around, put the stamp in its spot... and then forget again. I probably would have forgotten altogether, but, in the 90s, I worked at an archive, the Immigration History Research Center, as a secretary. I was friends with all the archivists/processors and there was a big set of correspondences that came through. I ended up helping the processor remove the staples (some of which were already rusting the paper) and discard the envelopes (which weren't historically valuable and were taking up box space.) As I gathered up the envelopes, I asked, "Hey, would it be okay if I take these stamps?" There was some discussion, and it was decided that I could.
This is how it is that I've come to have a fairly complete, extensive collection of American World War II stamps. (I have a fair number from the post- and pre-war years, too.)
But, again, I mostly didn't think of it again until Shawn bought me these packs of stamps. I had such fun these last couple of days going through the "grab bags" and filling holes in my collection. I can't even explain this pleasure, because it's really not even about *having* the thing. Like, I have no sense of the value of any of these. In fact, I'm quite certain they're worthless. But, I get such a thrill when I find a missing one in my album and stick it in.
Maybe it's like coloring. I just like doing a simple, fairly mindless task that involves interesting history and pretty pictures. Or Pokemon. I like having a complete collection.
I had so much fun these last few days that I went and bought myself EVEN MORE stamps from e-Bay.
The only drawback is that I hunch over the desk as I do it, and my back gets all twisty and sore. Which reminds me, I should report on my latest doctors' appointments. Last Wednesday was fairly busy. I had an appointment with my chiropractor. I don't know if I told you that I went ahead and booked the hour long massage that Dr. Matt gave me as a gift for my birthday? Well, I did that on Monday and they neglected to tell me that this was a THERAPEUTIC massage. No candles and Zen music. The masseuse pounded on me. In some places, fairly painfully. I thought, "Well, this sucks. I'm never doing this again." I complained about it for about a day and a half while drinking the required water and then suddenly... everything felt amazing. I mean, places that had been aching in a very background way? GONE. So the chiro went really well, too, on Wednesday. As I told Dr. Matt, I'm feeling pretty much fixed. Yeah, I have to watch my posture or I get all stiff and sore, but I'm 48. That's par for the course. The only weird thing remaining is the random blasts of numbness in my index and middle fingers of my left hand.
But I had a neurology appointment later that same day....
Which was... well, frankly, it was awful. There wasn't anything WRONG with my experience on the surface, except that it was so TYPICAL of Western/modern medicine. Dr. Johnson breezed into the office and had me repeat all the stuff I'd already told his nurse. He nodded along and asked if I had any weakness in my left hand. I said, none that I've noticed. But, he did some tests that proved me wrong. While he was doing his battery of exam tests he made some disparaging comment about how the insurance companies make him go through these things, and I said, "Are you saying you never find out anything useful?" "Oh," he says, "Occasionally, I hear something in the arteries, especially with older patients." And, I'm thinking, so.... these useless tests helped someone BE AWARE THEY MIGHT HAVE A STROKE IN THE NEAR FUTURE. Yeah, those dumb insurance companies, what ARE they thinking???
But, I don't say that, because there's something about Dr. Johnson that doesn't really engender conversation. I'd tried a couple of times earlier. Dude actually has a black doctor's bag and I tried to make a little conversation about it, because, c'mon, a black doctor's bag! How cool is that? But, nope. He was very practical in his response and a "can we please stay on task" sigh.
I don't trust people who can't be distracted by interesting things.
Seriously, he was similarly uninterested when I interrupted him to point out that it was snowing. (We have had no snow here in Minnesota, and most people were anxiously watching the skies to see if we might end up with a dusting before Christamas.) He was very, "Oh. Huh." Clearly, the man is dead inside. :-)
At any rate, after the tests are done, Dr. Johnson says that it's pretty clear that I have a pinched nerve. He can even name the possible one (7?) because of where I'm experiencing numbness. BUT, he wants me to have an MRI and an EEG just to be sure. I ask, so what all this for? What's the point? Is this the sort of thing that can fix itself with physical therapy, time, or what? He's very much of the idea that surgery is a great idea.
Really?
For a bit of numbness?
SURGERY.
I told him that I had to respectfully disagree. I would try physical therapy. He was very "..." Like, no one ever, in his entire life said to him, "You know what, Dr. Johnson? No."
He was also very, VERY eager to know if I had "good" insurance, and wanted to be sure to schedule the MRI for the end of the year because, ha-ha, "it's the end of the year rush." (Like there's a f*cking sale on the things.)
I declined the MRI and EEG. Thank you anyway, Dr. Johnson, but, the thing is, the one is scary and expensive, the other is terrifying and painful as fuck. (Shawn's had both.) It's only going to confirm what absolutely everyone already knows. I have a pinched nerve. My nurse-practitioner knew that the day I first walked in. My chiropractor, too. In fact, my nurse practitioner was a little worried this would happen. She almost didn't send me on to the neurologist because, she said, "then there will be a big push to fix things which might just fix themselves with time."
My plan is time and continued physical therapy, including chiro. If my numbness doesn't get better in a year, I'm happy to revisit this. Or, obviously, if things suddenly get worse. But, I'm going to wager they won't. I'm already noticing (especially now that I'm paying close attention) that the numbness is lessening. It used to be that every time I bent over I'd get sudden shooting, fierce numbness. Now it's every other time... and sometimes not at all.
So, yeah, no. The neurology appointment was a bad idea from start to finish. I should have gone with my nurse-practitioner's gut instinct. But, you say to yourself, "I should cover all my bases, right?" And, right, you should, but not when it leads to unnecessary surgery. (or tests.)
December 14, 2015
Distracted by Work....
Apparently, December is the time that many Ramsey County circulation staff decide that going to work is not for them.
Not that I blame ANYONE who decides this. In fact, I support that attitude not only in general, but also in specific, because it means I get a lot of sub hours. I worked almost every day last week. I'm working both tonight and Tuesday night. It's going to be a decent-sized paycheck for once, and, right around the holidays, this is a very good thing.
Plus, my back is feeling much better, thank you. I can't say it's at 100%--if for no other reason that I still have weird numbness/tingling in my fingers and thumb of my left hand. (Yes, I FINALLY got an appointment with a neurologist, but that's not for another week yet.) I sill get that beat-up feeling after a long shift at work, or, like yesterday, when I spent the day on my feet rolling out cookie dough. But, as I said before, that's a kind of pain I know how to deal with: you take some aspirin; you lie down. It hurts when you do that? Stop doing that.
I can't believe it's raining today. I don't even know where i live any more. It's supposed to be Minnesota. Says so right on all the mail I get in the post, but it must be wrong because there is GREEN GRASS IN DECEMBER. This is ridiculously unnatural. Facebook did one of those things where they show you some picture you posted in the past and some time last week they gave me the "memory" of the gigantic snowfall that had me outside with a yardstick to show the amount of snow we were getting. It was easily seven inches. Now, I can't say that's particularly "normal" either, but it's closer than this freak show. I know lots of people are happy with this year because the streets are easier to drive on, etc., but, for the record, this is not okay with me. We could have dry streets and a bit of snow, couldn't we? I feel we could. I would like that, please.
So to compensate for the weird weather, we spent is weekend FESTOONING our house in cheerful and seasonally-appropriate Solstice array. There is tinsel everywhere! Lights! Ornaments! The tree was bought and ceremoniously carted across University Avenue on Saturday. We decorated it (and the house, while we waited for the tree to warm up and relax). Sunday we spent baking ALL THE THINGS!! If I had the capability to show pictures any more, I would post the lovely gingerbread house that Mason decorated as well as our Solstice velociraptor sugar cookies (because, is there anything more Christmas-y than velociraptors?? No, I didn't think so.)
We kind of got overly ambitious when we started all the dough that needed time in the fridge, so I actually rolled out and baked up the gingerbread cookies today. Without Shawn around to stop me, I may have spent way too much time creating tableaus of Attack on Titan (only with gingerbread)... but, hey, it all eats the same, as my grandmother used to say.
Speaking of eating, I should probably go out to the grocery store. We need to have something ready to go tonight once everyone is home, since I have to be in White Bear Lake by 5 pm. So, I think tonight be Avengers shawarma, since it's really just about mixing things up and sticking them into pita. But, of course, I think of this when we have no pita bread. And, if I have to get pita, I might as well pick up a pre-cooked chicken.... I would never survive long in the world that Naomi Kritzer writes about in "So Much Cooking" (http://clarkesworldmagazine.com/kritzer_11_15/).
All right then, that's a wrap!
Not that I blame ANYONE who decides this. In fact, I support that attitude not only in general, but also in specific, because it means I get a lot of sub hours. I worked almost every day last week. I'm working both tonight and Tuesday night. It's going to be a decent-sized paycheck for once, and, right around the holidays, this is a very good thing.
Plus, my back is feeling much better, thank you. I can't say it's at 100%--if for no other reason that I still have weird numbness/tingling in my fingers and thumb of my left hand. (Yes, I FINALLY got an appointment with a neurologist, but that's not for another week yet.) I sill get that beat-up feeling after a long shift at work, or, like yesterday, when I spent the day on my feet rolling out cookie dough. But, as I said before, that's a kind of pain I know how to deal with: you take some aspirin; you lie down. It hurts when you do that? Stop doing that.
I can't believe it's raining today. I don't even know where i live any more. It's supposed to be Minnesota. Says so right on all the mail I get in the post, but it must be wrong because there is GREEN GRASS IN DECEMBER. This is ridiculously unnatural. Facebook did one of those things where they show you some picture you posted in the past and some time last week they gave me the "memory" of the gigantic snowfall that had me outside with a yardstick to show the amount of snow we were getting. It was easily seven inches. Now, I can't say that's particularly "normal" either, but it's closer than this freak show. I know lots of people are happy with this year because the streets are easier to drive on, etc., but, for the record, this is not okay with me. We could have dry streets and a bit of snow, couldn't we? I feel we could. I would like that, please.
So to compensate for the weird weather, we spent is weekend FESTOONING our house in cheerful and seasonally-appropriate Solstice array. There is tinsel everywhere! Lights! Ornaments! The tree was bought and ceremoniously carted across University Avenue on Saturday. We decorated it (and the house, while we waited for the tree to warm up and relax). Sunday we spent baking ALL THE THINGS!! If I had the capability to show pictures any more, I would post the lovely gingerbread house that Mason decorated as well as our Solstice velociraptor sugar cookies (because, is there anything more Christmas-y than velociraptors?? No, I didn't think so.)
We kind of got overly ambitious when we started all the dough that needed time in the fridge, so I actually rolled out and baked up the gingerbread cookies today. Without Shawn around to stop me, I may have spent way too much time creating tableaus of Attack on Titan (only with gingerbread)... but, hey, it all eats the same, as my grandmother used to say.
Speaking of eating, I should probably go out to the grocery store. We need to have something ready to go tonight once everyone is home, since I have to be in White Bear Lake by 5 pm. So, I think tonight be Avengers shawarma, since it's really just about mixing things up and sticking them into pita. But, of course, I think of this when we have no pita bread. And, if I have to get pita, I might as well pick up a pre-cooked chicken.... I would never survive long in the world that Naomi Kritzer writes about in "So Much Cooking" (http://clarkesworldmagazine.com/kritzer_11_15/).
All right then, that's a wrap!
December 8, 2015
Things likely said about me after I leave a room...
"Does that girl EVER shut up?"
"Who gives the nurse at a doctor's appointment a business card?"
"Do you think she's really an author, or... really, really STONED?"
"Cheerful as fuck, though. I should probably get some of whatever drugs she's on."
"Because, who has so much energy at eight am?"
"It must be caffeine."
"I'm totally going to look up this 'Tate Hallaway' person, because she's hilarious. Is monster erotica really a thing?"
"Can't be from around here, though. WAY. TOO. LOUD.."
#
Seriously, what is wrong with me?
I was in to see a dermatologist because, you know, my warranty expired at 48, and Shawn noticed a weird little growth on my cheek. (I TOLD you that my blogs would suddenly be all medical issues all the time!) Anyway, so there I was, and I might have had a little too much coffee and was already wound up because I rage quit watching Jessica Jones (more on that in a bit) and I dunno, the nurse was nice, okay? And, I just didn't feel up for the Minnesota call-and-response so t stopped trying to pretend like I knew when the hell anything happened with my body.
Her: "How long ago have you had the growth on your face?"
Me: "Who even knows? You'd think I'd notice a thing on my face. It's not like I don't look in the mirror every damn day, but I must have just dismissed it as 'weird thing that seems harmless.' I'm only here because my wife worries."
Her: ...
Her: "Um, okay..."
Me: "I've had coffee. Maybe too much."
Her: ... *smiles nervously* "Yeah, okay. I get that. So what do you do for a living?"
Me: *already reaching for business cards* "I have the most awesome job. You won't even *believe* how cool it is."
The nurse agrees that being published is, in point of fact, WICKED cool and goes on to confess that she LOVES to read and she's super-sad that she hasn't be able to read for pleasure because she's in the middle of school (she's going for her RN, I asked,) and, yes, paranormal romances are RIGHT up her alley and her husband LOVES science fiction and she WILL take that card, could I write down a few titles? She goes away and I get undressed and stuff. When the doctor comes in, I can tell the nurse was talking about me, because the doc smiles brightly at me and says, "I hear you're a famous author," to which I reply, "Yes, award-winning."
Because I f*cking have NO shame.
And, because this is a skin check, I'm basically saying all this COMPLETELY NAKED. I mean, yes, I have a sheet draped over me, but the doctor is checking out my boobs and butt, because that's her job, and all the while I'm yacking away about why I have a pseudonym (a lot of people don't understand the mechanics of why you would, and when I told the doctor that the romances are under a different name, she was very curious why that would be.)
I'm SURE I was the talk of the office after I left.
On the other hand, I may have sold a few more books.
Speaking of creative content, I'm watching Netflix's Jessica Jones. I just rage quit in the middle of episode 5. I may go back, but I'm having serious problems with this show. I will put the spoilers under a cut, but let me first say that "noir" and "dark" shouldn't mean humorless and unthinking. The epic fan fic I write has been categorized as dark because I tackle hard issues realistically. But that doesn't mean that my characters are inhuman to one another (at least not ALL THE TIME) or that there aren't moments of lightness and insight and kindness. Jessica Jones misses some opportunities for clever humor, IMHO, that could go a long way to making the characters sympathetic. As it stands, I don't like anyone on the show (with the exception of a hapless neighbor.) So the thing that made me rage quit is the treatment of lesbians on this show. A lot has been made about how feminist "Jessica Jones" is because Jessica spends a lot of time uplifting, supporting, and LITERALLY rescuing her female friend. Yes, that's lovely. About time, Marvel. HOWEVER, every single lesbian on the show is unlikeable and spends HER time destroying the lives of the women around her. There's a lesbian relationship in the background, a lawyer friend of Jessica's, her "Commissoner Gordon, if you will, the person who gets her cases to solve, is a married lesbian. She's played by Carrie Moss with a butch haircut and pinched lips. And she's an odious human being. Right away, we discover she's having an office affair with the cute, perky, blond secretary/legal assistant. The wife is a clueless doctor, who gets a few scenes that don't do much to make her seem attractive or likable. There's a whole TOTALLY GRATiTOUS sub-plot involving this threesome, which does NOTHING to advance the main plot. If it goes to characterization at all, the resulting theme is: lesbians are dicks. My first impression was that someone decided it would be clever to gender-swap the lawyer character, because there's nothing that the writers do to show they put any effort into thinking about how different lesbian relationships might be. It's completely, exactly like some dick-ish dude who got married due to some social pressure might act. Well.. there's the thing, kids. No lesbian EVER (at least at this point given that marriage was only made legal a few years ago) has ever been pressured into marrying anyone, ever.
So... there's them. And then, I just hit a scene, in a woman's prison.... that made me just turn off the streaming with a "OH FOR F..SAKE I QUIT" We get this plot important moment when we discover that one of Killgrave/Purple Man's victims is pregnant with his child and she paid for a beating in the hopes of miscarrying. Dark. But, I have no problem with that. Dark is as dark does. But the person hired to do this beating could not have been more of a lesbian stereotype. Again, I probably wouldn't really noticed except the writers chose to have her comment that Jessica better not break her fingers because, "There are ladies to service."
Right. That's when I turned off my Kindle
I have other issues. The treatment of the one character I actually like, in particular. At one point, Jessica is trying to figure out how to steal some high end drugs from a hospital for reasons of super villain and she tries to just sneak in and fails. Nice nod to reality. It's not that easy to steal drugs from a hospital. So, she's feeling stymied until another neighbor helps the hapless druggie get to his apartment and mutters something about how we're all a little racist, and THIS GIVES JESSICA AN IDEA. She takes hapless druggie, a black guy, with her to the hospital. She pushes him into a white woman, a nurse, and yells, 'OH MY GOD, HE JUST ATTACKED HER." A black guy. On a white woman. In the era of #BlackLivesMatter. Wow, Jessica, way to be sensitive to the fact that your so-called friend could ACTUALLY GET KILLED. Luckily, he's only arrested. Because, fuck that junkie anyway, he's an awesome tool for the white girl.
Oh, and then I'm supposed to buy that she gives enough of a shit about him to help him clean up once she finds out that he's been used by the super villain too.
Hey, Jessica, something you have IN COMMON with the biggest evil in all evil-dom.
Awesome. SO. Done..
"Who gives the nurse at a doctor's appointment a business card?"
"Do you think she's really an author, or... really, really STONED?"
"Cheerful as fuck, though. I should probably get some of whatever drugs she's on."
"Because, who has so much energy at eight am?"
"It must be caffeine."
"I'm totally going to look up this 'Tate Hallaway' person, because she's hilarious. Is monster erotica really a thing?"
"Can't be from around here, though. WAY. TOO. LOUD.."
#
Seriously, what is wrong with me?
I was in to see a dermatologist because, you know, my warranty expired at 48, and Shawn noticed a weird little growth on my cheek. (I TOLD you that my blogs would suddenly be all medical issues all the time!) Anyway, so there I was, and I might have had a little too much coffee and was already wound up because I rage quit watching Jessica Jones (more on that in a bit) and I dunno, the nurse was nice, okay? And, I just didn't feel up for the Minnesota call-and-response so t stopped trying to pretend like I knew when the hell anything happened with my body.
Her: "How long ago have you had the growth on your face?"
Me: "Who even knows? You'd think I'd notice a thing on my face. It's not like I don't look in the mirror every damn day, but I must have just dismissed it as 'weird thing that seems harmless.' I'm only here because my wife worries."
Her: ...
Her: "Um, okay..."
Me: "I've had coffee. Maybe too much."
Her: ... *smiles nervously* "Yeah, okay. I get that. So what do you do for a living?"
Me: *already reaching for business cards* "I have the most awesome job. You won't even *believe* how cool it is."
The nurse agrees that being published is, in point of fact, WICKED cool and goes on to confess that she LOVES to read and she's super-sad that she hasn't be able to read for pleasure because she's in the middle of school (she's going for her RN, I asked,) and, yes, paranormal romances are RIGHT up her alley and her husband LOVES science fiction and she WILL take that card, could I write down a few titles? She goes away and I get undressed and stuff. When the doctor comes in, I can tell the nurse was talking about me, because the doc smiles brightly at me and says, "I hear you're a famous author," to which I reply, "Yes, award-winning."
Because I f*cking have NO shame.
And, because this is a skin check, I'm basically saying all this COMPLETELY NAKED. I mean, yes, I have a sheet draped over me, but the doctor is checking out my boobs and butt, because that's her job, and all the while I'm yacking away about why I have a pseudonym (a lot of people don't understand the mechanics of why you would, and when I told the doctor that the romances are under a different name, she was very curious why that would be.)
I'm SURE I was the talk of the office after I left.
On the other hand, I may have sold a few more books.
Speaking of creative content, I'm watching Netflix's Jessica Jones. I just rage quit in the middle of episode 5. I may go back, but I'm having serious problems with this show. I will put the spoilers under a cut, but let me first say that "noir" and "dark" shouldn't mean humorless and unthinking. The epic fan fic I write has been categorized as dark because I tackle hard issues realistically. But that doesn't mean that my characters are inhuman to one another (at least not ALL THE TIME) or that there aren't moments of lightness and insight and kindness. Jessica Jones misses some opportunities for clever humor, IMHO, that could go a long way to making the characters sympathetic. As it stands, I don't like anyone on the show (with the exception of a hapless neighbor.) So the thing that made me rage quit is the treatment of lesbians on this show. A lot has been made about how feminist "Jessica Jones" is because Jessica spends a lot of time uplifting, supporting, and LITERALLY rescuing her female friend. Yes, that's lovely. About time, Marvel. HOWEVER, every single lesbian on the show is unlikeable and spends HER time destroying the lives of the women around her. There's a lesbian relationship in the background, a lawyer friend of Jessica's, her "Commissoner Gordon, if you will, the person who gets her cases to solve, is a married lesbian. She's played by Carrie Moss with a butch haircut and pinched lips. And she's an odious human being. Right away, we discover she's having an office affair with the cute, perky, blond secretary/legal assistant. The wife is a clueless doctor, who gets a few scenes that don't do much to make her seem attractive or likable. There's a whole TOTALLY GRATiTOUS sub-plot involving this threesome, which does NOTHING to advance the main plot. If it goes to characterization at all, the resulting theme is: lesbians are dicks. My first impression was that someone decided it would be clever to gender-swap the lawyer character, because there's nothing that the writers do to show they put any effort into thinking about how different lesbian relationships might be. It's completely, exactly like some dick-ish dude who got married due to some social pressure might act. Well.. there's the thing, kids. No lesbian EVER (at least at this point given that marriage was only made legal a few years ago) has ever been pressured into marrying anyone, ever.
So... there's them. And then, I just hit a scene, in a woman's prison.... that made me just turn off the streaming with a "OH FOR F..SAKE I QUIT" We get this plot important moment when we discover that one of Killgrave/Purple Man's victims is pregnant with his child and she paid for a beating in the hopes of miscarrying. Dark. But, I have no problem with that. Dark is as dark does. But the person hired to do this beating could not have been more of a lesbian stereotype. Again, I probably wouldn't really noticed except the writers chose to have her comment that Jessica better not break her fingers because, "There are ladies to service."
Right. That's when I turned off my Kindle
I have other issues. The treatment of the one character I actually like, in particular. At one point, Jessica is trying to figure out how to steal some high end drugs from a hospital for reasons of super villain and she tries to just sneak in and fails. Nice nod to reality. It's not that easy to steal drugs from a hospital. So, she's feeling stymied until another neighbor helps the hapless druggie get to his apartment and mutters something about how we're all a little racist, and THIS GIVES JESSICA AN IDEA. She takes hapless druggie, a black guy, with her to the hospital. She pushes him into a white woman, a nurse, and yells, 'OH MY GOD, HE JUST ATTACKED HER." A black guy. On a white woman. In the era of #BlackLivesMatter. Wow, Jessica, way to be sensitive to the fact that your so-called friend could ACTUALLY GET KILLED. Luckily, he's only arrested. Because, fuck that junkie anyway, he's an awesome tool for the white girl.
Oh, and then I'm supposed to buy that she gives enough of a shit about him to help him clean up once she finds out that he's been used by the super villain too.
Hey, Jessica, something you have IN COMMON with the biggest evil in all evil-dom.
Awesome. SO. Done..
December 4, 2015
It worked, I can't believe it worked...
...but so Shawn suggested last night, when I confessed to feeling low about my writing, that I do what I used to do... WAY back: set-aside an hour in a place that felt more like an office (a desk, the dining room chair) and just sit there with the document open for an hour. Set a timer, if necessary. Try to write. Write what you can. Then, quit and give yourself permission to do the other things that need doing.
Well, it f*cking worked.
I just wrote for an hour on the Satan novel. (And I really enjoyed it.)
YAY!!
Well, it f*cking worked.
I just wrote for an hour on the Satan novel. (And I really enjoyed it.)
YAY!!
December 3, 2015
I was starting to feel better, right?
So what do I do today?
Slip and fall on the ice.
If it wasn't so painful, it would be funny, especially since my family was sitting in the car and NEVER NOTICED. I was scraping the windows like I do, and I'd just gone around Shawn's side (which is often sheltered, even though we park on the street and doesn't always ice up) and I half-tripped, half-slid on the hard packed snow/ice and down I went. As I was falling I was thinking "NoNoNoNoNONot my back" and so, of course, I TWISTED and came down hard on my knee.
My lower back is now killing me.
And my knee, which is beautifully bruised.
Damn it.
I was supposed to go to Wyrdsmiths tonight, but I'm just not feeling up for it. Not only does my body hurt, but I'm just kind of feeling defeated. The other day Mason asked me how my Satan novel was going and I confessed I hadn't written much. His reply was, "Have you lost all ambition?" And his question has been haunting me. I think I have answer. I think it's: No, not quite all. But, in the meantime, I've promised him to at LEAST write on my novel one day a week. In talking to Shawn I've decided to make it an hour a day, but regardless, I have made a specific goal and a specific promise that I have every intention of trying to keep.
I don't want to disappoint my son, after all.
But, at the moment, I feel a bit like a sore, old loser-head, so I'm going to take a warm bath and hide under the blankets.
Slip and fall on the ice.
If it wasn't so painful, it would be funny, especially since my family was sitting in the car and NEVER NOTICED. I was scraping the windows like I do, and I'd just gone around Shawn's side (which is often sheltered, even though we park on the street and doesn't always ice up) and I half-tripped, half-slid on the hard packed snow/ice and down I went. As I was falling I was thinking "NoNoNoNoNONot my back" and so, of course, I TWISTED and came down hard on my knee.
My lower back is now killing me.
And my knee, which is beautifully bruised.
Damn it.
I was supposed to go to Wyrdsmiths tonight, but I'm just not feeling up for it. Not only does my body hurt, but I'm just kind of feeling defeated. The other day Mason asked me how my Satan novel was going and I confessed I hadn't written much. His reply was, "Have you lost all ambition?" And his question has been haunting me. I think I have answer. I think it's: No, not quite all. But, in the meantime, I've promised him to at LEAST write on my novel one day a week. In talking to Shawn I've decided to make it an hour a day, but regardless, I have made a specific goal and a specific promise that I have every intention of trying to keep.
I don't want to disappoint my son, after all.
But, at the moment, I feel a bit like a sore, old loser-head, so I'm going to take a warm bath and hide under the blankets.
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