Red Tash's Blog, page 253

November 10, 2011

neil-gaiman:

Birthday cake. Candles blown out onstage at the...



neil-gaiman:



Birthday cake. Candles blown out onstage at the Moore Theatre.


View more Neil Gaiman on WhoSay


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Published on November 10, 2011 05:13

Happy Birthday, Neil Gaiman!
neil-gaiman:

Birthday cake....



Happy Birthday, Neil Gaiman!


neil-gaiman:



Birthday cake. Candles blown out onstage at the Moore Theatre.


View more Neil Gaiman on WhoSay


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Published on November 10, 2011 05:13

November 9, 2011

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Published on November 09, 2011 17:30

^This is me, scurrying all over the internet, today.
Writer...



^This is me, scurrying all over the internet, today.


Writer Wednesday Recap:


Finished Nanoing, early on (great new habit), and then I was off to do Writer Wednesday.


Here's where I've been today:


How do you solve a problem like a dragon?  (Sing it, you know you wanna).  Shea's little buddy explains it all.
Jessica McHugh celebrates FauxPoWriMo!
Marian Allen gets medieval on her apples' ass today.  Really funny entry, plus a recipe.  Go enjoy it as you may.  Marian serves it forth.
Axel Howerton is celebrating Flux Capacitor Day, and really, shouldn't we all?
Anthony Rapino reveals the cool contents of his Halloween Mystery Bag.  
Indie Eclective has a free Christmas collection out.
AK Marshall shares a passage from her nano.
JKP has a tremendous short story posted on her blog (and the blog of a friend).
Kim Koning has redone her blog.
Looking for a place to submit your dark fiction?  Bloody Bookish has a Call to Entry calendar that's updated with submission deadlines.  Pretty good stuff.  
I visited Jeff Mariotte to see what's been up to.  Ended up bitching about that bridge again.  
My Hoosier buddy, Hoosier pal Kim Jewell has been working on her new book.
PJ Jones is into stinky turds today.
Dropped in on Hollister Ann Grant, one of the nicest authors you're likely to meet, anywhere.
Stopped by to cheer on Marcin Wrona.  He's half-way done with Nano.
Ruth Barrett had a birthday & has a lovely table display of her book.
I visited several other blogs, but as they featured repeats of authors already named above, I'll skip them until another Writer Wednesday.
OH!  And I really shouldn't neglect to highlight Tim!  He's trying to get into the groove of blogging again.  Check out this awesome painting he posted yesterday.

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Published on November 09, 2011 07:17

oldbookillustrations:

Isvan rushed up the rampart. He didn't...



oldbookillustrations:



Isvan rushed up the rampart. He didn't see Ildebran, who was about to stab him.


Fulchran-Jean Harriet, from Les femmes : leur condition et leur influence dans l'ordre social chez différents peuples anciens et modernes (Women: their condition and influence in the social order among various ancient and modern peoples) vol. 1, by Joseph-Alexandre de Ségur, Paris, 1803.


(Source: archive.org)


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Published on November 09, 2011 05:50

Nanowrimo Day 9:
We're into one of my favorite parts of...




Nanowrimo Day 9:


We're into one of my favorite parts of the book, so far.  The Troll Market.  Thank you, Guillermo Del Toro for a piece of the inspiration.  That's a page or two from his Hellboy 2 book, right there^.


Anyway:



The flea market was fairly typical.  Cheap Chinese NASCAR tapestries, gun & knife booths *, rows and rows of bins of $1 health and beauty products on recall. 


We passed several booths of musty second-hand clothing, dusty antiques, and moldy paperback books.  If I hadn't been so concerned about Christie's well-being, it'd been tempting to browse the book stalls a bit, but as it was, Harlow was nearly breaking a sweat for the back corner of the hall, and I could barely keep up.


"Who exactly did you want me to meet?"


"Zelda," he said.  "Keep walking, we're getting closer."


The last half-aisle of the flea market was devoted to musical instruments, and a circle of banjo pickers and guitarists were set up facing one another, jamming away to their heart's delight, while little children danced.


"Does Zelda play the dulcimer or something?" I asked.


He looked at me sideways, then laughed.  "Actually, she might play the accordion—but I wouldn't ask her demonstrate.  Not if you want to get home before midnight tonight."


After a good fifteen minutes of walking, we finally reached the back of the market.  A stale, greasy snack bar featuring Unlimited Topping Pizzas and Broasted Chicken was closing, and the attendant made sure we knew it.


"I'd like a marshmallow pizza with extra gnomes," Harlow said.


"That ain't the password anymore," said the guy behind the counter, doffing his paper hat in my direction.  "Orders of the boss."


"So what's the new password, Charlie?" Harlow asked, leaning over the counter and staring hard at the kid.


A snap and quiver of wings, and the attendant shook himself, like a dog.  I wasn't sure what I was seeing, but it didn't seem natural.  Not anything I'd seen in nature, anyway.


In an instant, he was back to normal, as if he'd never revealed his true nature.


"You're a fairy!" I said.


Charlie laughed, nodding in my direction.  He looked me up and down.  "Takes one to know one, sweetheart."


"It's her first time at the market, Charlie.  Let us in."


"First time, huh?"  Charlie leaned forward on the greasy countertop between us.  He spread his wings deliberately this time—translucent, shimmering, and extending about six feet out from his back.  He shook them and let them relax slightly.  I could read the list of Unlimited Toppings through the gauze-like membrane of his wings.  Pepperoni, sausage, green peppers—what did he mean?  Takes one to know one?


A door opened next to Charlie, and fluorescent light lit up a supply closet.  Then the illusion billowed, and was gone.  There was no supply closet, just a door leading who knows where.


"Excuse me, pardon me," came grunting voices from below the counter.


Charlie tucked his wings in and shuffled out of the way.


"And don't think we didn't notice your wings out, civilian side," the voices said in unison.


Harlow took my hand, and wordlessly pulled me closer to the counter.


Two small people with long curly beards and pointy red hats pointed fingers up at Charlie.  Charlie shrugged and sputtered, and then Harlow was pulling me over the counter, through the door.


The illusion of the supply closet flickered back into sight, then pealed away like a curtain. The world bowed and opened up before me. 


"Welcome to Wal-mart for the Fey," said Harlow, spreading his arms wide.  "This," he grinned, "is the Troll Market." 



I actually edited two chapters today, and wrote a mini-chapter for Harlow in between, so there's lots more Troll Market fun I could post…but I want to leave some surprises for the book, right?


 


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Published on November 09, 2011 04:51

November 8, 2011