Lyda Morehouse's Blog, page 52

My Muse is a B--ch

Seriously, Muse? I woke up today at 3:30 am because a little voice in the back of my brain said, "Work on Samurai High!" I blinked in the darkness and thought (with my best Tard the Cat face on): "Nope! *I* am sleeping!" But, try as I might, I couldn't fall back to sleep. So I hauled my sorry butt out of the nice warm covers (and out from under the cat pile) and went and fired up my laptop. Somewhere around 4:30 am, I completely gave up any pretense of going back to bed and made a pot of coffee.

I think it was worthwhile. I can't say that I made lightning progress, but I'm way, WAY happier with the first chapter--which is, by all accounts, the single most important one. The nice thing about this novel is that I have a very clear, established voice. The rest of the business is getting the right ATMOSPHERE, which has been very tricky at times. (The plot is already figured out in the proposal.)

Also, being up at this crazy hour meant I could check in with empty_mirrors about the latest peice of fanfic I've been struggling with, too. I have no idea why this last one came so hard (as it were). But, I wonder if I'm finally running out of steam for my never-ending soap opera from hell (or the Soul Society, as the case may be.) I got a rash of kudos on my Harry Potter/Bleach x-over that made me consider playing over there for a while, and several more people have commented on my not-terribly-steamy set-up for Komamura/Gin.... so maybe the answer is to go play elsewhere for a while.

Or take a break. I don't know. I don't really want to take a break because this is supposed to be how I relax and play, so I'll have to see if something else moves me.

Speaking of relaxing and playing, Mason and I are going to go off to the "big" zoo with Eleanor. I should remember to bring my camera in case the animals are being frisky and/or interesting.

The only other exciting thing that happened around here was that our microwave died rather... explosively. I was melting some butter for a bread recipie on Saturday and all of a sudden sparks started arcing. Our family reaction was priceless--Mason just bolted from the room. Shawn sat in her chair shouting, "Do something!" While I sidled nervously up to the spitting and hissing thing and quick hit the off button.

As Shawn later said, "Avengers we are NOT."

I pointed out that, while I might have been SLOW, I was at least moderately heroic.

But, it was such a funny observation that Shawn posted about it on Facebook. I thought nothing of it until a dear friend of ours seanmmurphy , called up and asked us how our battle with Thor went. I was confused for a second until he said, "Oh, and guess what? I have a spare microwave sitting around. Do you want it?" I was flabbergasted by his generosity! We'd just been thinking about the dent a new microwave was going to make in our pocketbook. But, Sean just hopped in his car and brought it over. Apparently, his new house came with a built-in and so he really had no use for the second one. It's HUGE and awesome and (to us, at least,) brand-new!

What amazing friends I have. I'm extremely grateful.

I also had a chance over the weekend to see an old friend pegkerr at naomikritzer 's housewarming party. That was lovely. Naomi put out a wonderful spread (I tasted all the cheeses!) and I was glad for the opportunity to catch up with Peg. Weirdly, though, I probably spent the majority of my time talking to Naomi's daughters. I say weird, because I didn't bring Mason. Both he and his mom were exhausted from our trip to the waterpark, so they stayed home to snooze. And, I suppose it still wasn't weird, per se, but I was really struck by how grown up they are--at least in terms of their abilities to carry on conversations. We actually had a very interesting discussion about the various fan fics that Naomi's eldest was reading (mostly Harry Potter) and got into our usual arguments about house placements.

I had a lovely time.

It was a good weekend all and all. Except last night... which was meant to be a date night for Shawn and I. We had a babysitter lined up and we were planning on going to finally see "Skyfall." But, Shawn got hit really hard with some kind of stomach bug. I just heard her turn off her alarm, so it seems she's not feeling entirely recovered this morning. But, we'll reschedule for some other time. It was just a bit of a disappointment since we'd planned things so far in advance.

Dutiful

I woke up this morning feeling very dutiful. So I went downstairs, made coffee, and put in a thousand words on Samurai High (my current WIP, of which I'm trying to get sample chapters ready for an editor who showed interest in the proposal by early March.)

This is a good start for me, because we're planning to spend most of the day as a family having a "Staycation" at the Waterpark of America.

Last summer, Mason participated in the Roseville Library's "Book-a-wocky," wherein he vowed to read for 20 hours over summer vacation (which for him is only the month of August.) The deal was that if he made good on his promise, he'd receive a bag of goodies from the library. In that bag of goodies were several free passes, including an all-day pass to said waterpark. This, of course, is Mason's biggest scam. Reading is never a chore and, if he choses to focus on it, it can he read about 20 hours in three days.

But neither Shawn nor I think rewarding Mason for reading is ever a bad idea, even when he'd do it anyway. Finding a time when we can all go to the waterpark (and have the money for two extra tickets), however, has been a chore. So the day has finally come. Mason has been hopping up and down singing, "Water park day! Water park day!"

I, on the other hand, have been having PTSD about the water slides.

Actually, the slides aren't that bad. But, as an adult/old lady, I find I suffer vertigo a lot easier than I used to even at, say, twenty.

So that's going to be be my day. I wonder how my hair will do--it's been dyed several times now and clorine is never nice to hair dye. Perhaps all this rusty red will turn Yachiru pink! Then I'll just have to get a different hairstyle (and, if I felt clever, a captain's haori. If I were going to cospaly Yachiru I'd have be her as an adult.)

Last night was Valentine's Day and we watched "Harry Potter and the Order of the Pheonix" as a family with popcorn and lemonade. I spent the whole movie wondering why the Doweger Countess was being so... NICE. ;-)

Politics and Writing

On Facebook, I re-posted this article from the Guardian: http://www.guardian.co.uk/culture/2013/feb/11/dc-comics-homophobic-writer-superman which notes that Orson Scott Card has been hired by DC to write several issues of their Superman title.

I have surprisingly mixed feelings about this. Orson Scott Card has very destructive, hateful politics that include, among other things, an active hatred of *me* personally because I've happened to have fallen in love with someone of the same sex. Thus, I support efforts to boycott Card's writing in general (because money speaks, particularly in America), BUT I'm uneasy when people say he should never have been hired in the first place.

Card is, by all accounts, an odious person in terms of his political views, but that does not mean he shouldn't be offered gainful employment.

I don't know how writers write comic books. I get the sense of committees and long, pre-thought out storylines that have been hashed out in advance. Thus, I have to assume that DC Comics is aware of Card's politics and hired him, in fact, based on a proposed storyline for Supeman. Card is (or has been) a very talented writer. I loved Ender's Game. There is also no mention in the article about what Card is planning to do with the character or plot of Superman and if his politics are going to figure in, I can see how people can and should be up in arms. But... if they're not? Doesn't he have a right to tell his story? I think he does, just as we have a right to judge it for what it *is* rather than the man behind it.

Someone said this would be clearer if the writer in question were a Holocaust denier, and I'm not so sure. People think all sorts of stupid, wrong, and actively hurtful things. I'm not sure that makes a difference about whether or not they'll tell a good story about a guy from another planet.... I'm just not sure. I think that it's VERY true that a writer's personal demons can surface when they write, sometimes utterly unconsciously. I also think that DC Comics has editors. Card has not, to my knowledge, been given carte blanche to write whatever he wants. I believe he's required, as much as any other writer hired by a company like DC, to stick within the established storyline/canon/universe Bible. I don't think that just because Card is at the helm Superman will suddenly be raised Mormom.

If that happens? Boycott the f*ck out of DC.

If he writes a good story? Well, then an a$$hole can write a good story.

Look, the guy hates ME and ALL MY FRIENDS, personally. I think that should have consequences and, frankly, it looks like it is given how many people seem to be suggesting that they will refuse to buy anything with his name on it. However, I think it's a dangerous thing when we start saying "people like that should never be hired." Because people 'like that' often end up being people 'like us' under difference circumstances.

To misquote the ACLU: I think the man is a wanker, but I support his right to be a wanker.

In similar news, my politics gets discussed in this new critical study: http://www.amazon.com/Cyberpunk-Women-Feminism-Science-Fiction/dp/0786466537

TBF, the author of this work is really focused on what the TEXT implies about what my politics are, and this is why I *get* why people are uneasy at the idea of Card writing an iconic figure like Superman. Politics leak out. If you have any kind of moral point to your story, your opinions on it tend to be expressed in one way or another. However, I think that this is a dicey line we walk as writers--I have characters espouse things I don't agree with all the time. The character of Deidre is squicked when Michael reveals himself to be bisexual and she can't cope with Page's fluid gender because she's a Catholic raised in a restrictive society. That's how she'd be and I have to be true to her character before my own views.

I was really struck by this while watching Downton Abbey last night (we'd recorded Sunday's episode.) The attitude nearly everyone had about Tom's sexuality is EXTRAORDINARILY modern, to the point that my suspenders started snapping. "He can't help the way he is," the Earl says at one point, and I was like, "Really? Quoting Lady Gaga now? Because at this point homosexuality was considered a disease! Not all lassiez faire, oh, they were born that way!" I liked this, of course, but I thought maybe they'll pulled their punches in a way that was out of character. I think it could have been horrifying powerful to let the hammer come down on Tom the way it probably really would have. It would also have forced a modern audience to sympathize with an odious character for something we now recognize as NOT HIS FAULT. It could have been really educational for the 'kids these days' to see just how CRUEL the fate of the 1920s queer really was.

So, yeah--it's pretty clear I should be writing on my original fic, isn't it?

Weekend and Stuff

This was a surprisingly busy weekend for me. On Friday, I was pretty much in radio silence because Mason had a school concert on Friday morning.





Shawn and I spent the day doing all the "Parent Involvement Day" -- things like drink the caffeteria's horrible coffee and eating frigthening pastries. After the class concert, we were invited to hang out with Mason's class while they went to the library to listen to (seriously) a guest lecturer talk about her job in HR (human resources.) Then, we went back to the classroom where kids read the stories that they'd been working on. Mason's story was amazing. I may have to post some of it here, but the funny part was his "teacher" demeanor before he began. He sat in his chair and admonished fellow students that they'd have to sit still and be quiet before he started. Ah, my little controlling nerd! So adorably anal!!



Saturday, Mason had his swimming lessons. We always arrive early and Mason sits and reads before class starts with his goggles and glasses on. (Note: you can also clearly see a page of my Shonen Jump.)



Sunday, we ended up having an impromptu sleepover because Intersession has begun at Crossroads. Mason is going to be home with me now for about a month. But, this also means all his friends are off school now as well (or at least those who chose not to do Intersession classes--plus most of the Mondays are off this Intersession for everyone for some reason, too.) At any rate, Mason's friend Donte wanted to come over again, so we had him come.

I thought that the snow and sleet and rain might keep them away, but they braved the weatther. As a bonus, thanks to Donte, I got to watch most of the new Spider-Man movie. Shawn declared this to be her new head canon, but I was less convinced. I did like scientist-Peter Parker, because that's one thing about him that I'm glad Bendis and crew always remember in the New Avengers. Maybe they got Peter too right, because I'm not a humongous Peter fan typically. I really, really liked JMS's Amazing Spider-Man run, but partly because he built on the history of all that had come before. But I also tend to like grow-up Spider-Man over angsty teenage Spider-Man so that may have been part of it. I shall think thinky-thoughts.

Mason, my little ambassador of geekiness, desperately tried to convince Donte that he wanted to become a Bleach fan. He showed Donte the first episode, but it... (gasp!)... failed. (This is truly amazing to me because even Eleanor Arnason found the first episode compelling while trying to watch it in a busy coffee shop at Mason's insistance.)

I think, perhaps, the subtitles threw Donte more than he was willing to admit. Donte isn't a huge reader, and it can be daunting to have to try to read while watching TV. Mason, my baby-otaku, would rather DIE than watch Bleach dubbed into English, so there was massive fail.

I note this because usually where there is this...



...zanpakutou names get shouted out at high volume (in Japanese) around my house. It was almost eerie to hear Mason not call shikai on any of his favorites. But, he did use ice powers at some point, which I'm fairly sure are NOT standard Force Powers in the Star Wars universe (which is the common fandom that Donte and Mason share).

It was incredibly darling to listen to Donte and Mason chat all night (well past midnight) and FINALLY we had a taker for the top bunk. Mason has a bunk bed specifically for this reason--to have a bed for a sleepover friend. However, in the past, sleeping bags have gotten piled on the floor and no one has wanted to try the top or the bottom bunk. This time Donte decided it was THE COOLEST THING EVER. And they sat together up there for several hours telling each other jokes.

But now everyone is cranky and tired. Donte left at 8:00 am this morning because we had to get Shawn off to work. Mason and I have already had a squabble over the TV (though we did manage to watch 3 more episodes of Bleach.) And in about fifteen minutes we're going to have to pack up to head off to Mason's dental appointement.

My life is truly glamorous, no?

Oh, yeah, and later I have to FINALLY get to the revisions of Samurai High.

Of Timing Caps and FanFic

For those of you following along on the car saga, I am happy to report that things seem to be finally all fixed. It turned out that the problem was NOT a blown head gasket as I'd feared, but something somewhat cheaper called a "timing cap." That little operation, however, was a six hour job, so I actually picked the car back up on Tuesday afternoon and took it back in for a full Wednesday treatment. The only hassle with that was that I had to beg my dear friend naomikritzer to help me pick up Mason from school and poor Shawn had to (cue music: duh-duh-DUN!) take THE PUBLIC BUS home.

The car seems to be in full working order now. There was still a bit of a smell of antifreeze this morning, but I'm going to chalk that off to "stuff burning off" from the repair process until proved otherwise.

...

OH, and it looks like I just got plowed in. M*therf*cking St. Paul.

You know, we DID get the email they sent about their crazy north-south/east-west business, but wouldn't you know it? I JUST got back. And NOW they flipping come. So, yeah, they had to plow around my car... and ALL the cars parked on our street because WHO THE F*CK GETS THE EMAILS? And it's not like they made a robo-call like they did last time (which still only hits people with landlines.)

*sigh*

..

Okay, enough of all that. I've been talking to a friend of mine, empty_mirrors , about a fic that someone recommended to me. I ended up sort of unintentionally reccomending it to her because I really wanted to talk to someone about how reading it had put me into a strangely bad mood. It wasn't that the story was sad or that terrible things happened to the characters, but more that just reading one chapter had hit all the things that I dislike about my favorite character. Renji has a bit of self-loathing in canon. Or, at least, there's a moment that could be read that way. He says the words: "I hate myself" (and then goes off and kicks BUTT.) I actually never read this as actual self-loathing. I read this as a moment of kicking one's self before deciding on a radical departure from status quo--if Renji were in need of recovery, this would be his "bottom." A LOT of fanfic writers really want to write about the "I'm not worthy" Renji, however. It's an angst-rich place, and angst is one of those favorite things for fic writers. I don't fault anyone for enjoying that, but it's not my thing.

And, I, perhaps obviously, have a lot of FEELINGS tied up with this character.

But, our discussion about the particulars of this fic and what bothered us about it led to a discussion of story and fanfiction in general.

One of the reasons fanfic is, for me, so addictive is precisely one of the reasons this fic failed for us. There's really NO NEED for story in fanfic. You could (as I nearly have) write an epic, sweeping soap opera that's about nothing more than a favorite character wandering through the landscape. No PLOT REQUIRED. Why? Because fanfiction isn't like real fiction. You don't need to go anywhere UNLESS YOU WANT TO. Kubo-sensei (or fill in canon-writer of your choice) already wrote the plot. S/he did it better than I ever could, so I have no real desire to rewrite it for him/her.

And, for myself, when I'm writing fanfic, I don't really want to bother with the kind of conflict that makes for really GOOD original fiction. Plot is hard, Barbie. And, I write fanfiction to play. I write it precisely because I want to spend some time inside the head of my favorite character wandering through his day and admiring the set peices in his world that are particularly shiny to me. I write fanfiction because I want to do ALL THE THINGS. I could, as a fanfic writer, spend an entire chapter just brushing Renji's teeth, combing his hair and getting dressed. In fact, as a fanfic reader sometimes that's exactly what I want to _read_ too, because those are all the parts tht the canon-writer left out. I just want to hang out. Relax. BE the character for all the boring in-between the action days.

Sometimes I get "thinky-thoughts" about set peices or world-building aspects of the world and I write something to explore those things. Those are the fics that actually tend to get fewer hits, in my experience, because they're actually ABOUT SOMETHING (or, to be fair, also often gen fic, which just isn't as hot/fun for a lot of readers). I still tend not to go full-on plot-y in those "exploratory" fics when I write them because I still don't want to work that hard for my playtime.

This is why, however, I think that I'm so very picky with the fanfic I like to read. I go to play with a character. So if any of the character notes are off in any way (for me), I'm done. I often don't judge as critically the story elements as long as the characters behave in a way I enjoy/expect. I'll read the craziest plot (or pairing) if the characters are good and hit the things that intregue/interest me. They don't even have to be similar to "my" versions of the characters, so long as canon could imply wherever the writer goes and she pulls it off well, you know?

I'm not saying all fanfic is like this. In fact, a lot of people put in a tremendous amount of time, energy and effort to write a really EPIC STORY. But, sometimes, I bounce off those as well, because I find that to do that well a lot of times the writer has to take the characters completely out of canon--into an alternate universe or a canon divergence. Those can work for me, but the writer usually has to be *very good* (nearly or completely professionally so) to pull off all the things required to make an AU work, and world-building is often the very LAST skill that a fic writer has honed (for the obvious reason that we are playing in someone else's universe from the get-go).

I think, too, this is why it's sometimes hard to just scrape off the serial numbers on a fic and sell it as professional work. Obviously, people have or we wouldn't have FIFTY SHADES of Anything. But sometimes in fic we don't feel as compelled to put our chracters through an emotional ringer (which good conflict will do to them), because that's not what we came to fic to do.

**

Damn plows just came through AGAIN.

**

It's no fun to torture beloved characters, but that's what original fiction demands of us. You have to murder your darlings not only in terms of lazy writing habits, but also you can't just flirt around the edges of a thing--you have to put your character THROUGH HELL. Because we read original fiction to go to hell and back again, to come out the other side changed for the better, so that we can have hope that life is like that--meaningful and important.

Fanfic doesn't have to be any of those things. It can be silly and fun and full of day to day life in Edo period Japan.

Ooooh, I should go research Edo period toothbrushes! SHINY!

So, Yeah, the CAR....

I decided that I probably should let someone who knows something about car stuff actually look under the hood. So, after dropping my family off at their respective places, I took the car to the shop. I have an excellent mechanic. I use the Sinclair folks on Grand, just behind the Whole Foods. When I first started going there, the franchise was owned by a guy named Ben. Ben was my age, kind of a slacker-dude, but extremely competent and had an eye for fixes for people like me (cheap with used cars they don't want to invest their life savings in.) When I first decided I loved them was when the latch on my trunk decided to go wonky and I couldn't get it to close. I pulled in and begged someone to come out and see if they could do something quick about it. Ben shuffled out, used a tool (said some magic words, I SWEAR,) and it was fixed instantly. I tried to give him money and HE REFUSED.

Yeah, that's right: the first one was free. Now I'm hooked.

Even though, several years ago, Ben and his wife had a baby and now Ben isn't even associated with that Sinclair any more. But, they're still cheap and they're kind-of-almost-mostly within walking distance of my house. By walking distance, I'm not talking about normal walking for a normal American. I mean, two or three miles. But, I can hoof it back from there to my place in about 20 minutes if I'm talking to myself (plotting fic or fiction) or listening to music.

So, we'll see what they have to say. I have a very, very bad feeling that the words "blown head gasket" will be mentioned, as I dutifully used the Googles last night and thought, "damn, there's some real possibility here."

Ah well. This is the trauma of having only one car. It's the car we HAVE to spend money on.

The other thing I decided while walking back through the piles of snow that NO ONE SHOVELED is that fussy gay people really ought to be given the keys to the kingdom, as it were. Every house that had a shoveled walk? Rainbow flag! I kid you not. And, of course, I shoveled my damn sidewalk first thing this morning, because that's what you're supposed to do, people. Apparently, I and my fellow queers are ruining YOUR MARRIAGE BY SHOVELING MY SIDEWALK.

/rant

Sorry, but seriously, what is up with St. Paul and not declaring snow emergencies? It's because naomikritzer now lives in St. Paul, right? And she's had to put up with me yacking on for YEARS about how awesome the St. Paul plowing system is. Well, no more! They didn't plow yesterday and there's no word about a snow emergency being called yet. ARGH. This is how an inch of snow can shut down cities. The reason Minnesota doesn't collapse when we get several inches of snow is because we have snow plows! So get out there!!

/real end of rant.

All right, back to my life now. I should probably makes myself brunch and see if I can salvage part of this day before I have to walk back and fetch my car from the shop.

Ugh, I'm So Far Behind. It Must Be Monday.

I meant to update a while ago about the CAR. The short of it? All is well--for now. I was actually very butchily mcButcherson and talked to the car part store guy about my heater problem. He recommended that, since I got the heater BLOWING again, I put the extra fuses back on the shelf and try adding antifreeze.

Guess what?

It worked.

And it was a lot less butt-munching cold to stand outside with a bottle of antifreeze than it was to try to jam the stupid fuses into the stupid spot under the stupid steering wheel (seriously? Why there? So NOT convenenient.) At any rate, since we had a quick fix, I took the car to get an oil change thinking that if there was a massive hole in the oil works or antifreeze parts maybe they'd notice and tell me about it. Well, they didn't. But, the last is pretty obvious. The car stinks like she's burning oil. So, we're going to have to budget to take it in to the shop at some point soon here. In the meantime, I just keep checking oil and antifreeze levels and keep fingers crossed that nothing goes horribly wrong.

We had a mostly lovely weekend. Saturday was Mason's swimming lesson. He's in level 4 now, which is called "stroke improvement." So, he's learning the right way to do the front crawl and back stroke and all those official swimming techniques. I didn't learn those until high school, but I'm pleased that, no matter what happens in this class, Mason can swim. This is a good life skill to have in the "Land of 10,000 lakes."

Saturday afternoon was KidCon III, hosted by naomikritzer . Mason had a blast playing ALL THE GAMES. Shawn and I took advantage of being kidless to... (wait for it!)... go grocery shopping! I tell you, the romance is still smokin' hot, people!

Yeah. Kind of sad.

Still, it went a lot quicker this way and now the house is well stocked for any cold/snow snaps we might have in the next several days.

Sunday, as you know, was the Superbowl. I have to admit, I had no idea who was even playing, but as it is also the wedding anniversary of seanmmurphy and his wife Katherine, we often have an invite to a Superbowl party. Shawn was feeling under the weather, so Mason and I headed over. I have to admit to being not-in-the-best mood myself as we'd had a rather trying day attempting to get Mason to organize and put-away his LEGOs (I finally broke and just DID it myself). I'd also spent the morning and much of the afternoon giving the kitchen it's once-in-a-blue-moon deep clean. Thus, I was actually a little crispy and spent, but the Murphys had chili and treats and all the traditional offerings. Plus, it's a damn-near National Holiday, so I felt I really needed to at least have some Superbowl experiences so I could feel as though I was a pariticipating citizen of my fine country.

Wow. Go.Daddy, huh? GROSS.

Plus, I did. not. need. on a HD TV, which the Murphys have.

See, now I'm a hip, with-it American. You're all suitably impressed, right? However, here's where I have to confess that Mason and I didn't even last until half-time, so I missed all the excitment of the black out and the resurgance of the 49ners and their subsequent nail-biting defeat at the hands of the Ravens. This is what morning-after DJ patter is for, as well as the "superbowl ad recap/review" on the NY Times web site. So, while I heard that the pony-Budweiser commerial was a tear-jerker and that Iron Man's trailer was shortened by 30 seconds, I have no actual experience with either major event.

I did make it home in time to catch the first 30 seconds of Downton Abbey, though, but we recorded it for later since Mason stayed up late on Saturday (which might have accounted for some of the whiny/irritablity on Sunday) and we thought an early bed time was good, considering I'd fallen asleep on the couch at around 6:30 pm right after coming back from the Superbowl party. So, don't tell me any spoilers, especially you people who already watched this season on BBC.

My big plans for today are to get a few more words in on Samurai High, consider a number of other projects, and finish mopping the foyer and the dining room (the latter of which had been covered in LEGOs until late yesterday.)

Right.

Off to it.

Any minute now.

Hmmmm, first I should make some more coffee.

//Updated to add: I forgot to tell you all the ridiculously BAD NEWS. I'm apparently ready to test for my blue belt at Kuk Sool Wan this upcoming weekend. I think my head instructor is out of his bald-headed gourd. My head instructor actually looks *exactly* like this:



So, you know, you JUST DON'T ARGUE with a guy like that, so I will be testing next Saturday. Now, whether or not I will actually PASS is another question. Given how rarely I remember any of the steps to the techniques, I'm fairly certain that I'll be doing this more than once this month.

This is one way in which I am completely unlike my Bleach crush, Renji. I would pretty much rather never advance. EVER. I like just kind of hanging out in the lower-ranks where there is no pressure. But, apparently, my Zen-attitude of "it's the journey, man, not the destination" isn't going to fly.

*sigh*

But Now I WILL Sing the Complaining Song, Thank You Very Much

Is it Pooh that sings the Complaining Song?

I've got one this morning and it goes something like this:

Are you f*cking kidding me?
My car has no heat; it's minus three!
Who puts a f*cking fuse box there?
My a$$ is freezing in the air!
Goddamn it all, it's f*cking cold!
This was funny at twenty, now I'm old!

Also, I suspect there's a chorus that just repeats, "F*ck! F*ck! F*cking Cold!"

Similarly, I may have to compose another song about the fact that while I did manage to change one of the fuses in the fuse box despite the a$$-biting chill (I believe we are at -20 F windchills for real), the one I changed fixed the blowers. Now our blowers are blowing again, EXCEPT THEY'RE BLASTINSG ICE COLD AIR. So, at some point later today, once I've gathered my strength and I can feel my toes again, I plan to go to the car parts store -- because *of course* I don't have the type of fuse I need to fix the heater.

Join in!

"F*ck! F*ck! F*cking Cold!"

Plus, yesterday kind of sucked too. I got up to discover a cat had peed on the kitchen rug, went to go change the litter and had a bag burst all over my feet, dribbled orange juice down my front while doing the dishes, and... my coffee is gross.

For some reason I bought coffee at Whole Foods. Never do this. I have found that if you have a crappy, cheap coffee maker the best coffee is actually crappy, cheap coffee, like Starbuck's brand. Yeah, haters, I know you can't stand Starbucks for a ton of valid reasons, but their pre-ground coffee actually tastes really GOOD in my crap-a$$ coffemaker, so suck it. Instead, for the last two days I've been drinking really expensive swill that tastes HORRIBLE in my cheap coffee maker. I've actually had to resort to putting milk and sugar in my coffee. Yes, people, that's a serious crime against coffee in my book.

I can't say that not having decent coffee has improved my mood.

In fact, despite the fact that I'm making light, I feel utterly demoralized and defeated by my stupid car. I'm extremely grateful that my friend Rachel is coming over later for lunch because she will cheer me. I need a bit of cheer.

But for now? I'll be singing the complaining song.

Can't Complain

I was considering calling this post "Because I SWORE I'd Start Earlier Today." And then I was going to complain and whine about the fact that I didn't get a chance to start on my WIP yet because I was ever-so busy promoting a new interview that came out from SF Signals this morning.

Egads.

What is *wrong* with me?

Because, you know what? I'm a doofus if I'm going to complain about the fact that AN INTERVIEW CAME OUT IN SF SIGNALS AND IT'S ALL ABOUT ME!!!

http://www.sfsignal.com/archives/2013/01/interview-with-lyda-morehouse/


Honestly, it's a very, very lovely interview. Paul Weimer does his level best to keep me on topic and not looking like a total asinine moron. (It's a fine line, you know, between being terribly clever and a jerkwad... and I do love to dance along that high wire!) I make a reference to it being awfully early to get all existential, and that's because this interview was conducted by e-mail and, inevitably, I'd be answering around six o'clock a.m., having gotten up before my family to get some fanfic writing in before the day started in earnest. Imagine me answering Paul's questions with a black-and-white cat stretched across my lap (and one arm), coffee beside me, and the gray light of dawn peeking through the window behind the loveseat -- upon which I'm sitting covered in a pile of blankets. I'm sure my answers will make more sense that way.

In other more mundane news, I finally got around to cleaning out the small, ten gallon fish tank in which Thor and Loki spent their last moments. My final job with that is to scrub the rock bedding as best I can before refilling the tank and letting it begin cycling. I'm considering the idea of adding a few live plants again. I've had good/bad luck with those. Currently, in the only occupied tank, the thirty gallon, I have a lovely aquatic plant I don't know the name of because I got it from my vet when they decided to dismantle their office fish tank. That's been THRIVING. I should really learn the name of it because I should get _more_. The problem I've had with aquatic plants in the past is that many of them are as difficult to keep as fish. Some of them need an extra boost of CO2, others want specialized light fixtures, and so most of them DIE A HORRIBLE DEATH AT MY HANDS.

And some can be crazy expensive.

So maybe I'll try doing a little research into plants before I start up that tank again. I have this dream of a super-lush, fully organic tank with zippy little tetra or white mountiam minnows happily darting through the underbush. But usually, in reality, what I get is a tank full of rotting plant matter and a huddling bait-ball of terrified/sick fish.

Worse. Fish Mom. Ever.

Today, I also finally broke down and purchased a bad of de-icing pellets because OMG, THE FREEZING RAIN, PEOPLE. Seriously, this is Minnesota. We're supposed to have EITHER freeing OR rain, not a combination of the two. Luckily, my often annoying morning radio DJs told me stories of their icecapades, so I was able to warn my family that the stuff that looked wet was actually SHEER ICE. We managed to make it to work/school with only one incident. I was trying to stop at a stop sign on side street when a school bus came barreling through at high speeds. I skidded to a stop about three inches from them, while they blasted through blaring their horn like I was the jerk. I didn't even raise my finger, though, because, you know what? I don't want to ever hit a school bus, so I'm just f*cking glad I was able to actually stop at all.

Yikes.

So on Mason's advice, I'm now hunkering down and not going anywhere for a long as humanly possible.

Original Fiction is Hard, Barbie.

Do you remember the Math/Barbie scandal of... the late-90s? Apparently, there was a talking Barbie doll who said any number of inane things, including, "Math is hard!"

"Math is hard, Barbie," has become one of those phrases that my family uses to shorthand an idea. In this case, we usually mean it to imply: this is something that really shouldn't be that difficult, but I'm struggling with it anyway. And, today, all I can say is, "Original fiction is hard, Barbie."

I think I may be finally getting into the swing of things, but... man. It's like pulling teeth over here for some reason.

I wish someone could explain it to me. Why can I bust out 2,000 words of fan fic in about a half-day (if that) and original fiction writing is as slow as molassas? Given the scene I was just writing, I think part of the issue is description. I have a lot more of it in my fan fic than some writers, but original fiction demands a LOT of scene setting in a way I don't think is quite as necessary in fan fiction. Certainly, physical description of characters can be lighter--after all, most fan fiction is based on visual media. I tend to put a lot of effort into describing (of all things) weather in my fan fic. Also, because of who I write, there's a lot of talk of food and smells. But, a lot of the other stuff can be "brush stroked." I can do that to some extent in original fic, but a reader needs to know where they are and part of that is physical description.

And that's slow going.

Also, I can't just start with established characters and situations. I have to make all that up, and worse, get you to sympathize and like these people I'm inventing.

Hard work, Barbie.

I'd better get back to it, or I'll never get the 2,000 words I've promised myself for the day.