Cedar Sanderson's Blog, page 194

Look Elsewhere

My weekly post at Mad Genius Club is up. The camera battery was dead at the con last night, so sadly I don’t have any visuals for you today. I don’t even have much of a brain yet, that was a very long day… Look elsewhere for wit and erudition, ’cause I’m all out. The First Reader has an excellent [...]

Millennicon Schedule

Millennicon 29 Cincinnati Ohio My Millennicon Schedule, for those of you in the Cincinnati area: Friday 8:00 pm Reading 9:00 pm moderating a panel Making Money as an Artist 10:00 pm Creative Destruction (I will be doing a presentation on destructive biology) Saturday 2:00 pm Autograph session in the lobby Sunday 11:00 am Libraries and Librarians in SFF 12:00 pm [...]

Curmudgeon Review: Camelot in Space

  I was reminded of this book recently. I first read it three or four decades ago. So I looked on Amazon and it, with the sequels, were a penny each. This book was first published in 1965. If you have read Christopher Stasheff’s 1979 work The Warlock In Spite Of Himself you have read something with the same kernel of [...]

The Field Guide to North American Writers

Byline: Sanford Begley So you want to join the ranks of Writer watchers, do you? You have your Binocs, jungly style outfit with shorts and a pith helmet? Ahh… you are missing the field guide. Well, I am here to rectify that problem. The first thing you need to do is discover how to differentiate between the species of writer. [...]

Dragon Noir: snippet 9

You can find the earlier snippets at the Snippet Herding page (in the main menu. I will repair the link as soon as I can). Morning came far too early, after that late of a night. Ellie didn’t come in with the coffeepot as she often did, and not for the first time I wondered just how connected she was [...]

Kids Review: Fever and Gilly Hopkins

So today my kids gave me some super short and fun book reviews. I’ve written them down almost verbatim for your enjoyment. We often talk about what they are reading, and why they enjoy it, or what they learned. I reminded the Jr. Mad Scientist that she has seen the graves of Yellow Fever victims in the Sanbornton Town Cemetery. [...]

Salad, School, and other Infinite Variables

So I was making a salad, for the Eat This While you Read That! post in which I feature the erudite and entertaining Chuck Gannon and his science fiction. If you want to find out more about the recipe and how salads can be infinite, click on over to the Otherwhere gazette. This post is more about my feeling overwhelmed and daunted at the tasks I have before me.

I had a moment on Monday – I think, could have been yesterday – where I reminded myself to put my big girl pants on, and just keep putting one foot in front of the other. During my sit-down with my advisor, she cautioned me that she’s starting to see me burn out, and we were talking about this blog and my other obligations. She pointed out it’s a lot. I know it is. But I don’t know how else to do it. I just keep moving forward, because stopping isn’t an option. And really, I’ve been more tired. This could be worse.

So this isn’t a complaint. This is a post saying that no matter what seems like it’s got your head underwater, and breathing is important, if only you could reach the surface… It’s not as bad as you think it is. If you just keep moving forward, you will get up high enough to be able to catch your breath. It might not be a long break, but it will come. And moving forward doesn’t always mean that you’re going in the same direction. Sometimes you have to change plans a little, move sideways to get around some fearsome obstacle.

It’s like the salad. You use what you’ve got on hand, because there’s no time to run to the store for the tomatoes and feta cheese you forgot. Fortunately, like a salad, life is full of infinite variables. If you haven’t got tomatoes now, you can get them next time. No lettuce? Spinach works too. No onion? Well, the wild onions are coming up in the yard already. (which, tangentially, may be part of my problem. I’m so ready for spring, and I often have trouble with this tail end of winter dragging on).

I’m tired. I need to study for the exam. Thank goodness Organic Chemistry doesn’t have infinite variables. I have at least a hope of remembering the Diels-Alder and the Wittig and Friedel-Crafts, although synthesis sometimes feels like too many variables.

Oh, and tomorrow, when the Dragon Noir snippet posts, that’s the 1000th post on this blog. A nice, round number. It’s taken about, oh, nine years to get there. I’ve only been doing the daily blog for about 18 months. Before that, it was when I had time and inspiration. But like the rest of my life, if I just kept trying, eventually I’d get to… something. The sixth novel. The 1000th blog post. The junior year in a STEM university program. The portfolio presentation of my very first formal art class ever. You knock down a challenge, and another one appears, but if you keep going, the rewards keep coming.

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Graphite on Paper

At the beginning of this drawing class, we learned that drawing is making marks on paper. The marks we were making in this first half of the semester were specifically graphite on paper. Tomorrow I turn in my portfolio and receive a critique of the work I’ve been doing. I have no idea how that will go. But as part of it, we’ve been keeping a sketchbook in which we were to make (among other things) drawings of 10 everyday objects. Here are a few of mine.

I find myself wanting to tell a story with every drawing. Not about it, but with it.

 

 

 

 

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Is this… Morning?

I think I overdid it yesterday. Between spring rising, and house guests at the end of the week, I’d decided it was time to do a big cleaning. So today I’m sore and stiff and just a wee bit cranky. Did I mention I have midterms all this week? Yeah. So I’ll be studying. However, next week is Spring Break, so I do have a light at the end of the tunnel. Expect posting this week to be light, sorry.

I also have a question. I’ve had this story in my head wanting out, and I plan to finish it over spring break – it’s a short story. The problem I’m having is with a title. You see, I stuck it with a working title when I started on it (almost a year ago, ow) and I can’t think of it any other way. I’m going to snippet the beginning, and I welcome any title suggestions! Winner gets… I dunno. Carrot cake cupcake with cream cheese frosting? LOL

Peruvian dog statue at the Dayton Art Institute

Puppies in Spaace!

Bobby hefted the crate, ignoring the vehement hissing the Altarian lizard inside was emitting, and waited for the door to Peter’s warehouse to slide open. His gut was in a knot. This was not only his first trade expedition alone, but Peter was Walter’s brother.

The door slid open, emitting a palpable cloud of scent and sound. Bobby swallowed his gorge and stepped inside.

“Shut the door! Were you born in a barn?” and that was Peter, irritated as always. “You’ll let out all the heat. Why should I pay to heat the whole station…” He came around a rack of cages and stopped dead.

“I have your lizard, sir.” Bobby offered. He shifted awkwardly on his feet. The cage was heavy, but Peter’s gaze was heavier.

After an eternity, it seemed, Peter sighed. “Come on in, boy and tell me about it.” He pointed at a gap on the rack. “Set the damn thing there.”

Bobby followed him to the office, panting slightly in the hot, humid air of the Pet Emporium: Odd, Exotic, & Rare! that Peter ran, providing the rarities of the galaxy to only the wealthiest clientele. It always smelled to Bobby of animal droppings and bizarre creatures. When he was a boy, it had been the best place on the route to visit, where he could prowl the racks as long as he kept his fingers to himself, while Walter and Peter talked.

In the office, Peter sat slowly on his old chair behind the desk. He swiveled around to face Bobby. “Sit, sit…” he waved the young man to the other chair. Bobby moved a box of freeze-dried mealworms and did as he was told.

“So when did it happen?” the old man asked.

“You knew?” Bobby blurted, and then felt himself blush.

“I knew he was ailing. And I knew he intended you to take over the ship when he was gone.”

Bobby nodded. There was a lump in his throat. He’d been with Walter for the last five trading seasons, and the old man had been the closest thing he had ever had to a father. He stammered, “Two… two stops ago. I did what he’d said to do, and then came straight here.”

“You skipped a stop?”

“He said…”

“You did fine.” Peter fell quiet and studied him for a long moment. “So, what are your plans now?”

Bobby lifted his chin and took a deep breath. “I’d like to stay on his route.”

“Alone?”

“Yeah, I don’t need anyone, I can handle it all.” He frowned, then added, hesitantly, “this last season, I’ve done it all, really.”

Peter nodded. “He was failing fast.”

“I’m sorry,” Bobby offered after a pause.

“It was his time.” Peter passed a hand over his face, smoothing the wrinkled skin back into a friendly mask he wore for clients.

“So, lad, what are you going to take a gamble on?”

“What’s hot right now?”

“Jewel lizards from Sirrocco, but that’s not what you need. C’mon.” Peter grunted as he levered himself out of the chair and Bobby stood, letting him go out first. Peter charged into the head-high racks of cages, muttering to himself. “Let’s see…”

Bobby would have liked to stop and look at the various creatures that were housed here, some in stasis, others alive and fascinating. But he knew if he didn’t keep up with Peter, he could get lost in here. Peter’s assistants, rumor had it, carried special location devices keyed to the station to help them find their way in and out of the ever-changing maze of racks. Peter came to a halt and bent over.

“Ah, here we are!”

Bobby looked down. “What is that?”

“‘That’ is the next big thing.” Peter proclaimed proudly. “I’m not talking it up to many traders yet, boy, but I want to give you a leg up.”

Bobby crouched down and took a closer look. The creature was in stasis, and it seemed to be a loose bundle of fur. He could see a snout, and paws, but everything else was covered in brown and white folds. He felt dubious that any rich kid would find it cute.

“That there is a pure-blood Basset Hound.” Peter told him. “It’s a kind of dog. There’s only a few hundred left in the galaxy.”

“I’ve heard of dogs.” Bobby admitted. “In old story books, but I never saw one. They used to be common?”

“Yep, before we became a space-faring species. But when we lifted for the stars, they got left behind. Too little room, too few resources. Cats made the cut, dogs didn’t. Which means, young Robert, that mankind is primed for this old pet to come back in a big way.”

“Well,” Bobby scratched his head. “I suppose if they used to be such a everyday thing that they wrote books about them, you might be on to something. I’ll take him, if the price is right.”

Peter bellowed with laughter. “You are a chip off the old block, all right.”

Bobby left a little later with the stasis box tucked under his arm and a small hover pallet of jewel lizards in tow behind him. The Basset Hound was not very big. He’d declined Peter’s invitation to stay to dinner and a night in a ‘real bed.’ He needed to get used to being on his own again. He’d been used to it before Walter, and even the seasons with the old man hadn’t been too bad. He’d let Bobby stay to himself pretty much, as long as chores got done, and studying. Bobby remembered how he had resented the studying, at first, and the old trader had to practically stand over him during lesson time. But that had changed, until Bobby outstripped the lessons on board.

As soon as he got back on the ship, he latched down the box on a steel rack, then inspected his cargo one more time before lift. This station had little to offer him, a specialties man, but Peter had been his first stop after Walter was gone. The real deals happened on Adressa, the next planetfall. The jewel lizards with their tiny precious metal harnesses would go over well there, as living jewelry.

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Cake for Breakfast

Cake for Breakfast!

I’ve always thought the old Bill Cosby skit was hilarious – although I wouldn’t be like the mother in it – and he did (sort of) have a point. I mean, cake is no worse than sugary cereal, and it’s got eggs, which  cereal hasn’t got. Protein to start your day is good.

However, the cake I made the other morning wasn’t that kind of cake. I was playing around with the idea of crepes, again, and I had a bunch of fresh berries on hand. I’d picked up the berries cheap but use-them-right-now aged, and some of them were no longer beautiful. Tasty, still, but..

So I made a compote with them. And then my crepey experiment wasn’t really working (you can’t do it with a baking mix and without the long stand-time to activate the gluten in the flour).

Compote

Berries (about 10 oz)
2-3 tbsp white corn syrup (depends on the tartness of the berry and your personal taste)

Put the pan on med-low heat on the stove top, adding the corn syrup and then mashing the berries with a potato masher (lightly, you want chunks of fruit still). Heat, stirring frequently, until the mixture just starts to bubble. Remove from heat.

I reserved a few pretty berries for the decoration.

Pancakes

I do the simplest possible ‘cakes, most of the time. This morning was no different. I just tweaked the recipe a little.

2 c pancake mix
3 eggs
enough milk to reach the consistency of heavy cream.

Heat a flat, well-season cast iron pan (I’m using a 12″ found griddle, but any crepe-pan would work, or even a flat griddle, but I was controlling the size of the pancake for the appearance of the overall dish). Drop a 1/4 spoonful of batter on the pan, and swirl to make it uniformly round. Flip gently with large spatula, this will not hold together as well as a crepe would.

Layer the finished ‘cake on a plate with a big spoonful of compote. Repeat until you have just enough left (about double what I put between cakes) to top the whole thing with. Add reserved ‘pretty’ berries to the top, cut in wedges, and serve. It looks like cake, but it’s not!

The finished ‘cake’ all ready to cut. You don’t want to let this one cool!

This was very good, the berries ruled the flavor. I like them tart, you might want to taste and add more sugar. I also can’t eat whipped cream, but this is a meal crying out for whipped cream or créme freche. Clotted cream… mmmm…

Enjoy your cake, and eat it, too!

Layers of ‘cake and berries! Comes out pretty.

Layers of fruit and thin pancakes to soak up the flavor.

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