Sin Titulo

"Chimera and Qi" in Good Company

2008-12-06T21:54:00.001-08:00

tinaconnolly and carolineyoachim pointed me over to Last Short Story's list of their 2008 Year's Best where my dysfunctional little piece somehow ended up rubbing elbows with stories by the likes of Kelly Link, Maureen McHugh, Stephen King, and too many other lovely writers to mention. Color me baffled but pleased.

I never quite got around to posting about LSS's initial write-ups here:

"Chimera and Qi, by Tinatsu Wallace, from the latest Shimmer, is a very nicely written story of a woman whose marriage is in trouble, and whose family is trouble too. It's fantastical in nature, but the emotions at the heart of it feel utterly real and tender. Highly recommended, and particularly impressive as it's the author's first publication."

and here:

"Tinatsu Wallace, "Chimera and Qi" Shimmer Spring- on the surface, a woman returns to her mother's house because she thinks her marriage is over. But there is a darker story under the surface, a story of claws and blood... this one was a lovely juxtaposition of the painfully real and the surreal."

I suppose I should get around to finishing another story or two.

"Chimera and Qi" now in Shimmer

2008-09-04T17:58:00.000-07:00

My story "Chimera and Qi" is now out in the latest issue of Shimmer. I wrote this for Week 2 of Clarion West, and I am pleased that it is finally out. Happy day!

You can order a copy through their website in either paper or PDF form. I haven't had a chance to read the entire issue yet, but from the snippets I've seen, it's filled with lots of goodness.

Time to Say Hello

2008-01-01T21:08:00.000-08:00

...to Caroline Yoachim's first publication, "Time to Say Goodbye" in Fantasy Magazine, a sad-sweet tale featuring a heartbreaking mechanical Duck. Go read it now.

I'll put it a request now for a Duck for my Christmas stocking next year.

On the Move

2007-12-29T18:36:00.000-08:00

So, we're moving again. Back to California. Due to the fluctuation of the Canadian dollar in relation to the US dollar and the fact that all the visual effects work is headed back south, we are heading south too.

We got an apartment in the building in Pasadena we moved out of two years ago. I loved it there so all is good. We'll be renting the unit directly below our old apartment, which is a relief because I know the apartment layout and everything already.

The actual moving part will happen the second week of January. Right now we're in the packing and organizing phase. Yay, packing.

I will be sad to be moving away from Washington. I'll miss my little garden and having a house and the relative lack of traffic on the roads. Pixel will miss having a whole yard full of grass to eat and geese to watch out the window.

I feel like the past two years have been something of a detour from my nicely planned life and that I'm now returning to the main road. Or maybe it's something more akin to the Hero's Journey, and now that I've faced my challenges and battled through, I get to return home now, somewhat wiser than when I left.

For my fair-weather friends

2007-12-01T12:30:00.000-08:00

Geese in the Yard

2007-11-30T19:06:00.001-08:00

This is only a quarter of the flock. They used to hang out by the creek on the other side of the golf course, but a couple of weeks ago, they took up residence right behind my house. Meanwhile the ducks from the pond across from my front yard have moved down to the creek. I don't know if they have some sort of timeshare arrangement going on or what.

Girls, Women, and Females

2007-11-26T00:54:00.000-08:00

It started like this:

I was reading essays on Jenny Crusie's site (it was research, I tell you--not procrastination) and discovered that she, and some other women writers, call their subconscious/Muse/subliminal swamp the "Girls in the Basement." Which reminded me of how weird it is to me when women on What Not to Wear refer to their breasts as "the Girls." (As in: badly-fitting bras make "the Girls" unhappy.) Referencing any part of myself, either mental or physical, as a "girl" makes me uncomfortable, and it occurred to me to wonder why.

The short answer is that I don't strongly identify with being a female/woman/girl. I know that I am one, of course, but I generally just think of myself as a "person." The same way that I know that I am technically part-Asian, but I rarely think of myself that way. I don't think of myself as being white, either, or even Asian-American, although that's the closest label. What I picked up from growing up in an era of equal rights and feminism was that "all people, regardless of gender or race, are equal" meant that "men and women are the same," apart from a few biological differences.

Along with that came this idea that being a woman was something to be ashamed of, that embracing femininity meant emphasizing differences between genders, where the ideal was to be the same, to achieve genderless personhood. (Did said personhood look suspiciously masculine? Why, yes, it did. But that's for another discussion.)

But I've been thinking about women and femininity a lot recently, partly because of a story I want to write and partly because I want to find out what being a woman means to me. I've been thinking especially about the stages of women's development, from adolescence through adulthood, which is where the whole issue with the word "girls" comes from.

It's not that I don't like the word--I'm far more comfortable saying "girls" than I am with "women." I'm just wondering what the word means. And I don't think it's just me that's uncomfortable with "women"; I know I've had discussion with other females my age--all of us hovering around thirty, mostly married--about the fact that we refer to each other as "girls" and that we know guys (I say "guys" instead of "men" too) who refer to their girlfriends, or even wives, as "girls." For that matter, I know a lot of older women who refer to themselves and others as girls--"Golden Girls," anyone?

So, my question is: what's a "woman," and how and when does it differ from being a "girl"? To be honest, my conception of the word "woman" has a good deal of matronliness about it. I am far more comfortable using "female" than "woman" as an all-purpose word for female adults.

I never bothered with Women's Studies courses in college because I thought it was kind of backwards at the time to study Women if the ideal was to be genderless People. So I missed all of those discussion back then. But if I'm to think meaningfully about what it means to be a woman today, I need to know what a woman is. How do you define it? What makes someone a woman or a girl to you? Are there appreciable differences between men and women to you, or does it just come down to differences in physiology?

And finally: where do you see these conceptions/definitions going in the future? What will be the same about being a woman 500 years ago vs. today vs. 500 years into the future, and what will be different?

Moods and Writing

2007-11-13T17:00:00.000-08:00

There's something sick about the way I feel so much better when I've done some writing for the day. If I don't write for a couple of days, then I feel it building inside, this sense of unease and tension. But scrawl or type a couple hundred words of fiction and whoosh! suddenly the whole world looks right again. It's a strange sort of addiction to have, especially strange since it's not something I want to do every day, I just feel so much better when I do. (I suppose it's more like exercise then--I don't want to do it at all, and certainly not every damn day, but it's good for me.)

I don't have to write "good" words to feel better, but they do have to be story words. Blogging doesn't assuage my unease, or I'd do more of it. Although too many days of writing "bad" words or at least words that don't seem to be getting the story anywhere is just as bad as not writing at all. Well, almost.

I don't know what my point is other than to say I hadn't written anything for the past couple of weeks because I am busy and stressed with other things (and because my story brain is supposed to be stewing novel ideas--stew faster, I say!), but I spewed out a few hundred words of something last night, and all that other stressful stuff seems so much more manageable now. I have no idea what the story I started is about, or even if it's going to turn into anything at all, but I like a couple of things in it and somehow that's enough.

That's really kinda sick, you know.

Mt. Baker

2007-10-29T21:33:00.001-07:00

We drove out toward Mt. Baker on Saturday to take some pictures. The sun was out by our house but the closer to the mountains we got, the grayer the skies. I was hoping to get some decent fall foliage photos, but the leaves up there had mostly dropped already. Still lots of prettiness though.

Twisted Roots

2007-10-21T22:59:00.000-07:00

This is what happens when you're too lazy to space out the carrots in your garden:

Moral: Sometimes laziness pays.

No blogging is good blogging...

2007-10-11T17:59:00.000-07:00

Not really, but I haven't had much of anything to blog about. A lot going on here, but nothing blogworthy. Not even any pictures to share. Maybe later.

Back from Cali

2007-09-24T20:49:00.000-07:00

I spent the weekend down in LA, checking on my dad who's in the hospital with another stroke. He's doing okay, relatively speaking.

The only thing I really miss about LA is the gazillion restaurants in close proximity. Otherwise, I rather like it up here in the boonies of Washington, where the hills aren't scorched black and brown and the roads aren't clogged with cars.

I'm going to do revisions on a couple of stories this week, so I can get them out the door. And then I will be concentrating on something new for awhile. I'm also anticipating having a day job again soon--we'll see how that goes.

The new project is novelish length. Possibly a series. (Ack!) The upside is that I can feel good about sinking lots of prep time into it, whereas spending three months ruminating on a short story feels self-indulgent and procrastinatory. The downside is that I haven't written anything that long. Ever. Possibly not even cumulatively, if you added together every story I've ever written.

Let the adventure begin.

Sunshine on my Desk

2007-09-12T15:23:00.000-07:00

Woe unto me: my days of procrastination are over. My new laptop has arrived.

My old laptop was still in fine working condition, but I donated it to my Mom while I was in Japan (whose computer was held together with tape) in order to get a Dell Inspiron 1521. Why? Because I saw an ad online for it which showed the case in Sunshine Yellow--a color that perfectly matches my car, Buttercup. Is pretty. I like. (Is also sad, I know. But still pretty!)

Added bonus: the keyboard is lovely to type on. I am particular about my keyboards, but I just love the responsiveness and feel of these keys.

Now that I have a computer of my own again, I have no more excuses not to be writing, so a-writing I shall go!

Back from Japan

2007-09-06T21:50:00.000-07:00

...where I got a Strawberry Sirotan to add to my collection. More pictures of Japan, plus a fuller report, later.

Off to Japan

2007-08-22T19:46:00.000-07:00

Yeah, you're jealous, I know. I get to wander around Tokyo, hang out with people at WorldCon, and possibly die from schlepping around in the record-breaking heat wave.

Pix and blogging will resume upon my return.

First Check

2007-08-18T17:10:00.001-07:00

Yay, Shimmer sent me a check for "Chimera and Qi"! Only six months after the acceptance letter, too--that's downright speedy.

Is paid author now. Is happy.

No, still don't know when the conversion to "published author" will occur. Several more months down the road, I'd imagine. Gives me plenty of time to savor each milestone as it occurs.

Pixel Grazing

2007-08-06T13:16:00.000-07:00

Rejection x3

2007-08-03T16:35:00.000-07:00

I don't mind getting the stray rejection. Usually I just move on, send the story out to the next market on the list, and that's that.

But 3 rejections in one day (4 total for the week) is a little much. Especially when it means I have no stories out now.

One story I can send out again tonight, once I figure out where it's going. One of them has been out a lot, and I think I might want to trunk it. And two stories need rewritten before they go out again.

Oh well, at least one rejection was from GVG. (Dusting the manuscript with Ritalin to get past JJA's story-ADD apparently worked.)

And now... back to work.

Zucchini Blossoms

2007-07-31T14:57:00.001-07:00

Brought to you from my garden:

Anyone have some good zucchini recipes?

Write-a-thon Final Update

2007-07-23T16:50:00.000-07:00

OK, I'm done. As far as I'm concerned at least.

I don't have final drafts of 6 new stories, which is what I had originally hoped for. But I did bust through six stories, which is what I really needed to do, as opposed to spending months endlessly tweaking just one. So I am happy with what I've gotten done.

Part of this challenge for me was to test the limits of how much I could actually get done without going crazy. I passed over that threshold several days ago (as my family can testify), so it's time to call it quits.

Final tally: 3 revisions + 3 new story drafts.
Final wordcount: Just shy of 20,000

Since I technically didn't do what my original set of goals were, my sponsors can use their discretion as to how much or whether they want to donate. But I encourage everyone to donate anyway, because Clarion West was a valuable experience for me and other writers I know and continues to be an important part of what's helping me become the writer I want to be. I hope that other writers can continue to share that experience through the workshop, so please support Clarion West.

Write-a-thon Week 5 Update

2007-07-20T17:30:00.000-07:00

A painful but semi-productive week.

I finished the story that I was working on last week. It's still rough in places, but Gord has helpfully pointed out some of the major problems. His girlfriend Lime is also Tuckerized in that story and is so far not offended by what I've done with her character.

I also wrote a new story--it's a little over a thousand words right now. I have to decide whether I want to expand or cut for the next draft. It definitely needs a next draft. My brain is dead and stressed from other things, so the story ended up being technically okay but pretty darn lifeless. I hope it can be revived.

Accordingly, there has been a slight change in plans. I don't have the time or mental energy to polish 6 stories to a point where I'd feel comfortable sending them out. So I'm working on just having six stories completely drafted. I could technically count the draft I did at the beginning as one, but I am going to try for two more drafts.

One of the stories I had been hoping to complete is still too ambitious for me to push out quickly, even in a rough draft form. It's long and complicated and really wants to be a novella I think. I tell it, "No, you're a short story," and it says, "Fine, I won't tell you the ending then. Or the middle. But if I were longer, I know all sorts of places I could go..."

So, I'm calling it 4 out of 6 stories done, with 2 more to go. Maybe all new, maybe 1 revision. We'll see my mental state after this weekend.

Write-a-thon Week 4 Update

2007-07-16T16:49:00.001-07:00

So this is a little late. I was trying to put it off until I had the story I'm working on completed, which I hoped would be Friday. And then Saturday. And even Sunday would have been okay. But here we are on Monday... and, well, where exactly are we?

Here's where: I'm expanding a 600-word story I wrote a month or so ago, which wasn't working at such a short length. I figured another thousand words would flesh it out. But here I am at 3000 words and the end is only barely in sight. It'll be under 4000 words when I'm done, but not by much. Things have been progressing, but slowly, hampered by constant doubt that it needs to be this long.

Then I move on to a story I started several months ago. I wrote a few thousand words of it and stopped, probably because of a suspicion that it was more ambitious than I was willing to tackle at the time. I added a thousand words to it last week, and I'm thinking I still have another few thousand to go. It may actually head into novelette territory, which has frightening "No Man's Land" signs posted at the borders for me.

The other rewrite, planned for Week 6, is for the story I drafted at the beginning of the Write-a-thon. It's getting a major overhaul (which I need to actually think out), so that's another 4000 new words.

So, all in all, we're looking at about 10k in new wordage for this week and next. Gulp. And that would only be getting 5 out of 6 stories done. So ideally I'd also need to pull a piece of flash out of my ass. (Well, it could come out of my brain--but that would effectively be the same thing. Shit either way.)

I'd be in slightly better shape if I hadn't decided to trash the story that I spent three days on the week before last. But it sucked in myriad ways, so it's really better left for dead.

Buttercup Busted

2007-07-10T22:57:00.000-07:00

Lesson of the Day: Don't insult my car.

Buttercup has very sensitive feelings. Knowing this, I've told Brad repeatedly not to make disparaging remarks about her, but did he listen? Of course not. So, on Sunday, not ten minutes after he called her a lemon for the twentieth time, she blew up at him. I was letting him drive us home from dinner, and as we crested a hill--SPLAT! Buttercup spit coolant all over the windshield. Steam hissed and fumed from under the hood.

Turns out Buttercup was so mad she busted some sort of intake housing. We had to call a tow truck to haul her to the nearest service center. Brad ended up sitting by the freeway for two hours, waiting for the tow to arrive while I took a cab home to fetch his car.

She's been recuperating in the shop for the past two days. I get to pick up her tomorrow. I hope she and Brad will be able to kiss and make up. Maybe he should buy her some tasty motor oil or a little bling for the dash. Or do a full-body wash and rubdown. Girls love a little spa treatment.

Write-a-thon Week 3 Update

2007-07-06T17:54:00.000-07:00

Another not-so-productive week.

I finished revising "Iron Shoes," my Week 5 story from last summer. Which means I have now revised all of the stories I wrote during CW. Yay.

That brings me to having 2/6 of my WaT goals completed. Still a story behind.

I started writing the one totally new story I need to do. I'm about a thousand words in, and I don't know if it's just me and a bad mood or if the story really is boring. It's non-SF, so it's possible that it's just boring to me. Unfortunately, the idea doesn't lend itself well to throwing fairies or spaceships at it to spice things up. I will soldier on and get it finished though. Sometime. Soon. Even if it means chaining myself to the laptop on Sunday.

Write-a-thon Week 2 Update

2007-06-30T13:44:00.000-07:00

Despite working steadily throughout the week, I am a little behind where I had hoped to be.

The good news: I finished revising "Baby Food and Absolution." I need to proofread it and see if I can cut yet another 500 words to bring the word count under 5k, but I am calling it effectively done. Which means I am 1/6 of the way through my goal of 6 finished stories.

The half-way decent news: I reoutlined my Week 5 story yesterday and hope to redraft tomorrow. I don't think it needs as much new writing as the last one; mostly I think scenes needs reshuffled and bits tweaked to more clearly define the conflict. It's a significantly shorter story too at 2000 words, so I really hope I can get it done tomorrow or Monday. The revision slated for after that is also super-short, so if I can get two stories done this week, I'll be back to needing to finish a story per week.

The "not so great for productivity" news: My mom and stepdaughter are both invading the house in the next few days, so I'll have to balance my obligations to entertain them while also getting work done.

NEXT TIME: Will Tina finish redrafting her stories? Or will familial-induced guilt keep her from the keyboard? Stay tuned...

Oh, and the reason that I am not writing today is that Brad and I are celebrating our 10th wedding anniversary. Go us!

Photosynth

2007-06-27T11:47:00.000-07:00

WARNING: Geek Content

If you saw the movie Deja Vu, you'll recall that they supposedly recreated a 3-D environment by putting together all of the available video data and were navigating the world through that. (This was before we discover the true, much more fanciful nature of their technology.) Well, the first explanation is much closer to being available now.

This software, Photosynth, analyzes collections of photos, either your own or culled from a database like Flickr, and then arranges them into a 3-D representation, so that you can actually look around a whole environment by moving from picture to picture. Didn't get detail of that cool gargoyle on your camera? Just zoom into the picture and it will switch to a picture from someone who did. Forgot what was around the corner? Turn the model around and see if someone else took a picture of that side.

If they keep this up, I may never have to travel again. Which would be sad. But at least I'd save a lot on airfare.

Early Fireworks and TinaCon I

2007-06-25T18:39:00.000-07:00

The inaugural TinaCon took place over the weekend and was a smashing success. A list of highlights can be found at Caroline's blog, to which I will add:
-Yummy cioppino, courtesy of 3na

Also over the weekend, I got a new niece: Hanabi Alizabeth. "Hanabi" is the Japanese word for fireworks, and literally translates to "flower fire."

This is her in a less explosive moment:

WaT word count for Friday through Sunday: 0

Write-a-thon Week 1 Update

2007-06-21T17:44:00.000-07:00

A summary of the week's events:

Monday: Started and finished a draft of a new story. 3200-words in one day, which may be a record for me.

Tuesday: Nada. I had planned on writing, but I got distracted by my old landlords being [insert profanity].

Wednesday: Started revising my Week 4 story from Clarion West, "Baby Food and Absolution." It's not the kindliest revision to start with since it's a) the longest story I have to revise at 6700 words, and b) I'm aiming to cut it by at least two thousand words. So most of the day was spent re-reading the story and mulling what changes I need to make. After chickening out of more radical structural changes, I decided to cut one section, completely rewrite three others, and then just edit the hell out of the remaining four.

Thursday: More pondering of thematic issues, in order to make the story tighter. Started rewriting. I can probably finish it in two more days.

Friday: Taking the day off to be social. Party!

Stay tuned for next week's progress.

Write-a-thon--GO!

2007-06-18T06:41:00.001-07:00

Okay, so technically it started yesterday, but since it was the weekend I did no writing. I was actually building some chairs to go around the kitchen island, but that's a whole other thing...

I've collected a handful of sponsors and come up with a rough plan of attack for the next six weeks. I have three stories that I need to revise now and two half-finished stories that need finished or rewritten or somehow banged into shape. Which means I will be doing at least one totally new story. I have a backlog of story ideas that need to be written up, so naturally I will start with the new idea I came up with the other night.

I'll post updates at least a couple times a week so that my merry band of supporters (that means YOU!) can chime in with hurrahs and other words of encouragement. I'm going to need them.

Garden, Planted

2007-06-14T17:13:00.000-07:00

I dug up a corner of the yard for my experiment in gardening. (This actually happened two weeks ago; I'm slow and lazy about posting, I know.) Once I pulled up the grass, I discovered that there was nothing but sand underneath. I mixed in some topsoil, but we'll see how things grow. I also have a planter of herbs and one of lettuce.

Of the holy trinity of gardening--soil, sun, and water--I've done what I could about the soil, and I have the utmost confidence in receiving plenty of rain, but the last one... I don't know. They say it gets sunnier up here in July. But then, people also told me it never snows in Vancouver.

The good news, of course, is that weeding gardens is an excellent way to procrastinate on writing, better even than washing dishes because it comes with the extra excuse of getting fresh air. Grow, little weeds, grow!

All's Quiet

2007-06-13T18:36:00.000-07:00

The thing about living kinda out in the boonies, like I do now, is that it's pretty quiet all the time. Sometimes rather creepily quiet, though...

And the problem with sitting inside all day at the computer is that I don't often see people anyway. But today, I haven't seen or heard anyone at all. No lawnmowers outside, no kids riding their bikes home from school, no mailman even--though it's already six in the evening. It's like, where'd everybody go? Am I the only person left in the world?

I suppose this kind of paranoid thinking signals that I should get out more, especially with all these bloggers playing Zombie Apocalypse Day.

Write-a-thon-A-Rama

2007-06-05T19:03:00.000-07:00

To help raise money for Clarion West and to spur further writing productivity for myself this summer, I've signed up for their annual Write-a-thon.

What this means for me: I've set some goals to complete while Clarion West is in session this summer, from June 17 to July 27. While you can check out in-depth info on my Write-a-thon webpage, the gist is this: I do six stories in six weeks. (Those who know anything about my output while at CW last year know that this is an ambitious goal for me.) And I'm talking six completed, ready-to-drop-in-the-mail stories. Okay, yeah, so rewrites and flash count as well--I just want six stories ready to submit by the end of July.

What this means for you: I need money. More specifically, I need sponsors to pledge money for completing my goals, which then goes to support Clarion West. You can pledge a lump sum, say $5/$20/$50/$100, or a sum per story or whatever works for you. I'm flexible like that.

If you want to sponsor me [please please please], post a comment so all the world can marvel at your generosity. Or drop me an email (tinatsu at hotmail dot com), and I'll keep it all private-like.

Be forewarned: Last year's limping progress notwithstanding, there's a fair chance I will actually get six stories out. I finished a new story today, a record three days after completing the previous one. (Yeah, yeah, so it was flash--still counts.)

On the other hand, my mom will be visiting for a week in the middle...

Not Dead...

2007-06-01T17:39:00.000-07:00

Just keeping a low-profile. I did come back from WisCon (wonderful time, met many lovely people) with a bit of a bug, probably from getting less than my usual gajillion hours of beauty rest. But that's cleared up now.

The real reason that I've not been blogging is that I've been, uh, working. Now that we're relatively settled in to the new house and I don't have the excuses of either day-jobbing or taking care of my dad to worry about (for now), I have the one thing I've always wished for: hours of free time to write. Scary. I even have a dedicated writing room. So now that the pressure's on, I've been trying to be a good little writer and actually be productive.

To which end, I've revised another story and have it ready to send out after a quick proofread. That makes a whopping two post-CW stories completed. Yay, me!

Move Complete

2007-05-22T09:38:00.000-07:00

After three days of driving, one night in Sacramento where Pixel decided that walking through walls sounded cool and got himself stuck behind some plumbing in a little access cubby under the sink, and one lovely night at Tina's in Portland, we made it safely to Birch Bay and are getting settled in our new house. My furniture is arriving in a few minutes on the moving truck. So, I will get that all set up tonight--and then off to WisCon in the morning. I'm a little too tired and braindead right now to write a long post. More later, with pictures.

Subs Away!

2007-05-14T19:42:00.000-07:00

I'm back up to a whopping two stories trudging through slush.

The new story features a trans-dimensional pet door. I had the story critted by a handful of trusty critters last week and revised accordingly. I'd hoped to trim things down by a few hundred words, but in the process of clarifying things that were a bit muddled in the first draft, I ended up adding more words than I cut, so it ended up being about 3500 words.

Now that that's done, I do actually have to start and finish packing now. Between moving and WisCon, it'll be a couple weeks before I get settled in enough to do any more writing. I'm hoping to get a batch of revisions out the door in June though.

Crazycool flying dudes

2007-05-11T22:11:00.000-07:00

I would so do this... If I weren't, you know, attached to my life and scared of heights and other niggling details like that.

(P.S. As you can see, I'm busy packing and revising. Very busy.)

Beta Draft

2007-05-04T06:56:00.000-07:00

I finally got another story "finished." Finished enough anyway that I've sent it out to some trusty eyeballs who can tell me how unfinished it actually is. So I'm happy about that. I hope to move it up to a wider-release version next week and finally boot it off my works-in-progress list. That will be a relief. Then I can move on to some of the other stories that have been moldering on there.

Or I could start packing up the apartment... Nah, even revising is better than packing. And we all know how I hate revisions.

Me and My Daemon

2007-04-28T12:18:00.000-07:00

I saw this on Maureen's blog and had to get one too. But, is this really me? I don't know... Click on "Is my daemon a match?" if you don't agree either and help him find a better form.

Northward Migration

2007-04-27T12:01:00.000-07:00

The time has come to say good-bye to constant sunshine.

Brad's accepted a long-term gig in Vancouver, so we're moving north. We can't actually bring ourselves to move across the border, so we're settling in Birch Bay, WA for now since the housing is more reasonably priced than in the Vancouver metro area. We've found a house to rent--a nice three-bedroom near the ocean that costs a little less than what we pay for our teeny one-bedroom apartment here in L.A. (not near the ocean).

We're moving in the middle of May, so I have three weeks to get everything sorted and packed. Yippee. I'm looking forward to being settled, though.

Going to WisCon

2007-04-17T02:19:00.000-07:00

At least, that is the current plan. The actuality of this depends on me figuring out where I'm staying and buying plane tickets. I am registered now, though.

Anyone need a roomie? UPDATE: Roommate found.

Reading Magic and Watching Dreams

2007-04-15T20:29:00.000-07:00

I took the weekend off from writing to finally read Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell. I bought the book shortly after it came out, but as it's a large book and I'm no good at dipping into a novel for an hour or two here and there, I put it aside. I also can't read while I'm working on a story; I like to be immersed in one world or the other--going back and forth ruins the enjoyment of both. So, the book sat on my shelf for a while and then has been travelling around with me for the past couple of years while I waited for an opportune block of time to read it. The book's been from California to China and back, and been lugged up and down the West Coast for the past year and a half. After all that time and anticipation (not to mention the work of carrying such a hefty tome in my suitcase), I was very much hoping that I liked the book.

I'm not sure why yet, but my response to it is very mixed. I must say that I very much admire the work. It's very ambitious, drawing together history and magical lore and the individual stories of a large and diverse set of characters, and for the most part, I was impressed with how convincingly the world she built came off. I loved the little bits of magical history woven in through the footnotes. But, delighted as I was for the first couple of hundred pages, I started getting bored through the middle and tired of trying to keep track of all the intertwining strands ("When did those people meet?" "What was he supposed to do again?"), and the ending lacked enough impact and resonance to redeem it. Perhaps my problem was, with so many characters to follow, I didn't have the leisure to really empathize with or care about what happened to any of them. Or maybe it's that I like books where friendship and love are more powerful, sympathetic forces than they are here. An impressive book, but in the end, it left me a little cold.

My Netflix movie-of-the-week was The Science of Sleep. Following the general trend of the weekend, the beginning was delightful and promising, the ending not so much. Visually, though, the depictions of the main character's dreams were lovely and whimsical; I loved the low-tech-looking effects, the cardboard cars and cellophane water. I love how he lives as much (or more) in dreams as in reality and the way the two blur into each other for him. But I didn't like the way his character developed and I wish the story had been as transporting as the effects.

Ah, well. Back to writing tomorrow.

Morning Writing

2007-04-07T18:43:00.000-07:00

I have always considered myself a night writer. Daytime is too rife with distractions for me to write well--the sun is out, errands could be run, other people are up and about, there are phone calls and mail deliveries to interrupt my concentration. At night, it's dark and quiet and there's no place else to go, no one to talk to.

But for the past several months my schedule has been so whacked and my brain so exhausted by evening that I haven't been getting much writing done. Which leads to more stress and more exhaustion. To try and remedy the situation, I've instituted a new writing schedule for myself: waking up early and setting aside a few hours first thing to do my writing.

I don't know how well this is going to work, given that I'm not a morning person and this is going completely counter to my natural preferences. I hate to wake up before noon, my brain requires several hours to start functioning properly, and I have to deal with all the daytime distractions. I've managed to do it for a couple of days now, and the results are decidedly underwhelming--a few hundred words yesterday, all of which got cut today to be replaced by a handful of new ones. But I'm chalking that up to the fact that my brain is still reeling from the change in schedule and will take several days to adjust. I hope in a week I can start to report actual productivity. The first steps, though, are to consistently show up at the computer first thing in the morning to make my brain realize I mean business.

I'm also disabling the WiFi on my laptop during that time period.

Desperate times, desperate measures.

Sense of Accomplishment

2007-03-29T00:41:00.000-07:00

After three months of fits and starts, amidst much agonizing and backtracking, I have now completed the worst draft of a story I have ever written. I'm so proud. Normally I would have left the half-finished draft to be abandoned on a mountainside and eaten by wolves or thrown it into a sewer once I had seen how hideously deformed a creature I had wrought, but no, this time, in the spirit of experimenting with my writing process, I persisted. And lo, the story is indeed a piteous thing to behold. But it's done! Done! Even though I had to sacrifice a cat to do it. (No, not Pixel. Don't worry. A purely fictional cat.)

I don't know if I even want to call it a "first draft" at this point. Maybe a "pre-draft."

Now that I have seen how execrably I can write, it's time to put my surgical skills to the test and see if I can somehow slice, transplant, and suture this baby into some semblance of life.

Famous last words: At least I can't make it any worse.

Isn't she cute!

2007-03-20T23:14:00.000-07:00

My niece Ayeka came to visit her grandpa. She is adorable. Looks just like me at that age. ;-)

Buttercup, Babies, and Broadvoice

2007-03-17T14:30:00.000-07:00

Haven't had much time lately to post any updates because...

1.) I bought a car. It's my very first car. I got tired of having to commute on the buses up to my dad's house everyday; it was taking over an hour each way, often close to an hour and a half, which meant three hours out of my day spent commuting. And it's only ten miles away. So I decided that in the interest of having time to do other things, like write, I should conquer my phobia about driving and get a car. I feel like I've crossed over to the Dark Side, especially with gas prices being over $3/gallon now.

I got a 2004 Chevy Aveo, as it was the smallest car I could find. I named her Buttercup. She looks something like this:

2.) I've had visitors. Brad came down for two weeks to recuperate from working on Blades of Glory. He went back up to Vancouver on Thursday. And my brother, sister-in-law, and niece were also staying with us for a few days, so it was a bit crowded.

3.) I've been wasting a lot of time researching WiFi VoIP phones. In an effort to reduce our cellphone bills, we were looking into getting Brad a WiFi phone to use in Vancouver so he can call me and his family in WV. We've had Vonage for awhile now at home, but he wanted a WiFi phone he could use both at work and at his apartment. Since Vonage customer support was less than helpful in figuring out how to make this all work with our existing account and Brad didn't want to get a phone that was locked to Vonage anyway, he signed up for Broadvoice instead and got a dual cell/VoIP phone through eBay. Unfortunately, his phone doesn't actually work the way we need it to for reasons too technical for me to even describe. I had to order him a new phone today. Once that arrives, I will set it up here and mail it to him. Trying to wrap my head around all these different protocols has made my brain hurt. I hope Broadvoice works decently after all this.

4.) I've been doing lots of writing. Not. I will attempt to remedy that this weekend, now that I've caught up on all the episodes of Heroes. Brad made me watch the first episode last weekend, which meant that I spent a few hours every day for the past week watching the rest. I'm out of episodes now, so theoretically I can get some work done.

But I need a nap first.

Script-style

2007-03-05T10:41:00.000-08:00

I bought a couple of books the other day to explore my nascent interest in comics scriptwriting. I don't know how it happened, but several months ago I decided that I'd like to write some graphic novels, despite the fact that I'd never really had any interest in reading them. Go figure. So, I'm working my way into reading The Sandman series and scouting around for other comics that might catch my interest, and I thought it might be useful to get some books on writing comics to see how it's done.

The first book I got, Alan Moore's Writing for Comics, is an extended essay he wrote several years ago, near the beginning of his career, together with an afterword written after he'd become a jaded professional. The second book, Writers on Comics Scriptwriting, is a collection of interviews with writers like Neil Gaiman, Frank Miller, Grant Morrison, etc. I finished the Moore book; it's really short, but gives a good overview of the process he goes through to come up with a script. I'm slowly picking my way through the interviews, reading about just one or two writers every couple of days.

Of course, when writing any kind of story, a lot of the issues are the same--developing characters, tying together themes and plots, creating settings, and all that--so the basics of good storytelling don't change, and neither of the books have anything new to say about that. What I find interesting about writing for comics is the increased emphasis on story structure. Comics writers usually have a set number of pages in which to tell their story, so there's a lot of thought that goes into how the story is paced and structured to fit within that space. Structure's also important because you aren't able to drown the reader in a river of words. Because the writer needs to economise on the number of words he uses to tell the story, and even the number of images used to convey the story, he needs to be more aware of what the key images are and how to structure them into a coherent, cohesive whole. I also like how writing comics forces you to think more visually, which is a skill that I hope to carry over to my regular fiction writing.

I'm going to try drafting some of my current stories in script-style to see if that can get my brain thinking about them in ways that will enable me to fill in the holes. I know it's easier for me to write a screenplay than to draft a regular story. We'll see how this goes.

"S" is for...

2007-02-24T03:53:00.000-08:00

Sale--my very first fiction sale!

Shimmer--the magazine to which my story sold.

Story--a piece entitled "Chimera and Qi," which was the first story I wrote at Clarion West. (CW06ers will remember it as being called "Monster Child" back then.) I rewrote the ending (twice) after Clarion, and it's been visiting various slush piles since August.

Stoked--how I feel right now.

Chocolate and Roses

2007-02-16T00:42:00.000-08:00

Funnily enough, this post has nothing to do with Valentine's Day, but rather with my new favorite dessert. I discovered a new ice cream at Gelson's the other day: Zambeedo's Creme de Rose. It isn't a super creamy ice cream, but it has a nice, delicate taste that reminds me of a lovely rose-petal tea. I tried it with some brownies I baked last night (on the theory that it can't really be a great dessert if it doesn't go well with chocolate). At first the chocolate was overpowering the taste of the rose, but once the ice cream melted a little and soaked into the brownie--yum.

Zambeedo's also makes a Creme de Chai ice cream that I would love to try, but they don't seem to carry it at my Gelson's. I'll have to go search for it. Incidentally, Brad saw an Indian curry ice cream up in Vancouver that sounds intriguing, as well.

Movie Sequel Idea

2007-02-10T23:57:00.000-08:00

On my flight the other day, Pixel rode in a carrier under the seat, and when the plane took off, (despite being mildly sedated) he started clawing at the bag in a desperate escape attempt while meowing LOUDLY. It was like he suddenly metamorphosed into the Tasmanian Devil. Which made me think, surely a plane full of snakes is less scary than a plane full of tensed-up, yowling, little beasties with claws. And it's harder to try to kill them, because otherwise kitties are soooo cute.

So I think the sequel to Snakes on a Plane should be: CATS ON A PLANE (muthafucka).

I've already done up the t-shirt design, so the rest should be easy:

(If New Line wants to contact me for the script, I can knock it off in a couple of hours. Just let me know.)

Tempting Fate

2007-02-06T18:13:00.000-08:00

I mentioned to someone in an email the other day that it seems like every time I set myself a writing deadline, life blindsides me with an emotional sucker punch. I took a few weeks off of writing after the last one to read some books, but I decided yesterday that relaxation time was over: I would have a new story done by Friday. I even announced said intention to Ben, who is succeeding admirably in being productive. Silly me. I should have heard the evil cackling from the wings as soon as I did that.

So, now my dad has had a stroke and is in the hospital. Fortunately, it was a mild stroke and he seems to be doing okay, all things considered. But I need to go down to L.A. to see him post-haste, since my stepmom is the only one there to take care of him and she has her hands full already. I haven't seen my dad nearly as often in the past year as I should have. And the twitchings of guilt are threatening to leave me unstrung.

The original plan was to head back to L.A. when my contract was up at the end of February, at which time we'd have a better grasp on whether Brad was going to sign on for another several months here and we'd have to relocate our household or if we were both returning to palm trees and sunshine. But now it looks like I'm headed back with all of that still up in the air.

Ah, well. Off to go figure things out.

Mini Summer Flashback

2007-01-29T22:28:00.000-08:00

I spent the weekend meeting up with friends from CW06.

Friday night we had dinner at Guy's house with Gord and his girlfriend. Gord gave me an English translation of two stories by Kim Young-ha. He thought I'd especially like the second story, "Whatever Happened to the Guy Stuck in the Elevator?", without even remembering my brief incident being stuck in an elevator the other week. I finished reading the story last night and I did enjoy it tremendously. Darkly funny with lots of energy. Plus, it's different enough from my usual fare that I'll be churning over in my head how he made the story work. Anyway, dinner was mellow and relaxing. I'm glad I finally got to meet Gord's girlfriend, plus Guy's wife Gayle is lovely, and it was good to have an evening out with Brad where he could finally meet some of my friends.

On Saturday I drove down to Seattle with Guy and Gayle. We met up with Caroline, Mark and his wife, Paul Park, and Leslie at Tula's jazz club for dinner. I didn't get to talk to anyone much there--loud jazz music makes that a little hard--but it was good to see everyone.

Sunday was Paul's workshop on writing settings. Mostly he talked about the same things he talked about during class at Clarion West, but that seems like it was so long ago that a refresher was good. Things about playing with the reader's expectations, having different layers of your story working against each other, how emotional effects are often the result of the visualization you do when writing while intellectual effects are the result of the architecture of the story, the skeleton you outline and plan. How story can generate itself out of a clear visualization, and how when plots go off track, it's often because your visualization has become vague.

He did some in-class writing exercises which were new to me. The first two were focused on describing a setting while keeping in mind a scenario picked from a list he provided. The options all incorporated some sort of contradiction or conflict between what was expected and what was actually happening with the character, like writing about a beautiful setting from the view of a depressed person or decribing an occasion where there's an emotional subtext different from what we'd expect, e.g. fury at the wedding or joy at the funeral. For the third exercise we wrote about a person from a photograph we'd chosen, gradually expanding our paragraph from a straight physical description to include the moment surrounding it and then the person's emotional context, his/her history and motivations. The last exercise had us watch a section of a film showing a very detailed and rich setting into which we were to put some characters and write a scenario that included as much of the setting as we could. The last exercise was the hardest for me, I think because there was so much about the setting that I didn't know. The scene we watched was from the film Barraka, showing the steps by the Ganges in Varanasi with pilgrims bathing and praying in the river and families burning their dead on pyres, and there were just so many things that I would have wanted to know the words for and the proper ritual for before I wrote anything set there that just trying to come up with a scenario based on the visuals I saw was tough.

It felt weird sitting at a table with Mark and Guy and hearing Paul say, "What worked for you in this? Think about the effect of [insert interesting way of changing the story]..." and yet not having the rest of my class around the table. It was like one of those dreams where half of what you expect is there but the rest is all mishmashed with strange objects and people. Like a Paul Park story.

Overall a good weekend. Good especially to see some friends and get my brain thinking about writing, apart from the usual "Dear God, I need to finish a story!" I'm surprised by how many CW friends I've managed to see post-Clarion, and I hope I get to catch up with some more of them soon.

[Note to CW06ers: Paul mentioned that, sadly, the lion no longer speaks.]

Universal Order Restored

2007-01-22T19:19:00.000-08:00

At least in my personal universe. All crises have been averted.

One of my bosses told me I could get my laptop fixed for free at the repair shop they use. The problem, I discovered over the weekend, was simply that the power connector thingie in the back got knocked loose, which is apparently a common problem with these computers. So it got re-soldered today and everything is fine.

I guess this means that all my writing deadlines are back on. ::gulp::

No Writing

2007-01-20T11:16:00.000-08:00

Maybe the computer overlords tapped into my brainwaves while I was contemplating stories about evil computers taking over the world or maybe I made one too many complaints about the lazy, drunken gnomes that run the Internet--I offended someone somewhere along the line, because after the elevator incident (which I now see must have been a warning), I've spent the week wrestling with a string of computer problems at work, and then yesterday, my laptop died.

I'd hoped that I just needed a new power supply, so I took it to Futureshop to buy one and had them plug up the universal adapter they sold to make sure it worked. It didn't. So one of their tech guys carried it to the back room. I felt like I was watching a friend being taken into the ER. He tried another power supply, and it didn't work either. My laptop refused to power up at all.

I need to resuscitate it long enough to retrieve my files. I think it's mainly an issue with the power supply, because even after my computer stopped recognizing the adapter, it still ran on the battery. Unfortunately, my battery is dead now too. If I could swap it out with a charged battery, then I think the computer would start. All of that aside, though, I need to get a new laptop.

Why this means I can't write, I don't know. Pens and paper do still exist after all. I guess it's just demoralizing. Of course, this all happens when I have a self-imposed deadline I've been pushing hard to meet, the story half-finished on my hard drive. Every time I get into a groove where I think I can finally start being productive, it lasts for just a couple of days before life somehow intervenes. Always more drama and crises happening in my life than on the page. I really wish I could reverse that.

An Elevating Post

2007-01-15T19:45:00.000-08:00

This is how my day started:

We're taking the elevator down to the garage, running a little late as usual. Brad, still groggy, gazes at the ceiling. "I never noticed they don't have an escape hatch in here."

I glance up at the solid panelling, note the lack of seams. "Huh. Interesting."

A second later, the elevator stops. Between floors. We exchange looks of quiet panic. "You jinxed us," I say.

The elevator did finally drift all the way down to the lobby after five minutes and let us out. We walked the remaining two flights down to the garage.

The day never improved from there.

Drooling Over Apple

2007-01-09T22:28:00.000-08:00

I'm not a big gadget freak, but I love this.

Draft done?

2007-01-09T00:15:00.000-08:00

"Done" is such a weird word. Technically, I could say I've finished a draft. There's a beginning, middle, and ending to the story. But I'm not quite done fiddling with it. Things are still quite a mess, a result of the slapdash method of writing I employed for this particular piece at the beginning, rather than my usual meticulous planning. So I've still got a little bit of hammering to do to get the pieces to fit. Hammering and sewing. But all the pieces are there, I hope. Maybe that means I'm "revising," rather than "writing." At least, I'd like to think so.

You sunk my battleship!

2007-01-07T23:16:00.000-08:00

Look what I found:

Battleships

Can you be the savior and destroy the enemy fleet?

Play this free game now!!

I love this game, especially the sound effects. Brad has a lame version of Battleship on his cell phone, which inspired me to go looking for one on the Net. Ah, productivity!

(Obviously, I've been working hard. Although, seriously, I should have a new story done tomorrow. And no, you can't read it... yet.)

Op-Ed at the Rent-a-Car

2007-01-03T22:07:00.000-08:00

"I'm calling the paper and cancelling my subscription. They shouldn't print stuff like that." The woman sat at a desk behind the Hertz counter, one hand balled at her waist, the other pressed flat against the desktop. A newspaper lay spread open on a nearby counter, too far away for me to read, but a glance at it made the red of the woman's hair seep into her face.

"Good for you," chimed the lady processing our rental. "Nobody speaks up. That's why they think they can get away with it."

I looked over at Brad to see if he had any clue what they were talking about, but he shook his head. Neither of us were feeling particularly alert just then anyway. The whole week had been hectic and tiring, and we'd been looking forward to getting back to Vancouver for New Year's Eve, only to find out moments before that we'd be stuck in West Virginia for the night.

The red-head continued fuming as she stood and walked to the phone on the counter. "We're cancelling our subscription to the Gazette," she yelled into the receiver. "I was reading the wedding section, and there, plain as day, was a picture of two women in white wedding dresses, saying they got married. I don't want my children seeing something like that." Her tirade went on for another few minutes. It was morally wrong, it was illegal, and she didn't want to see it. "My husband says to go ahead and cancel our subscription," she told the other lady when she hung up.

"Good."

We got the rental car keys and left before I could hear any more of the conversation, but I made Brad stop at a gas station on the way through Charleston to pick up a copy of that day's Gazette. And sure enough, in the "Celebrations" section, there was the picture she'd been talking about, with the wedding announcement underneath.

Thumbing through the rest of the Gazette, I thought about what the Hertz woman had said, and I realized that I'm glad I don't subscribe to a newspaper. I saw article after article about things I'm morally opposed to: terrorist bombings, war, murder, drug abuse, Internet sales taxes. How could the paper's editors possibly print things like that? Innocent children might read the news and start murdering people or taking drugs or passing legislation to tax my Amazon.com purchases.

Or maybe not. Maybe we could teach the children to be smart enough readers that they can think critically about the news they read, reach their own conclusions based on the facts presented and the values we teach them, and know that shooting the messenger is a useless form of protest. Maybe teach them that freedom of the press is not about censoring reality to conform to someone's religious views. And that there are worse things in the world than the expression of a new family's joy, things like blind hatred and bigoted intolerance.

On the other hand, I can understand the woman's anger. I get upset reading the news, too. There's far too little respect for grammatical niceties, such as actually using commas and writing complete sentences, for my taste. I don't know what editors these days are thinking. As far as the wedding announcement goes, though--

I don't know who they are, but congratulations to Julia McDonald and Christine Letcher on their recent nuptials and warm wishes for a happy marriage.

Christmas Loot

2007-01-01T21:21:00.000-08:00

I'm finally back in Vancouver, a day late and more than a few dollars short. For probably the first time in my life, I'm glad that I'm going back to work tomorrow. My "vacation" time was woefully short of time to actually get any writing done, which has left me feeling stressed and irritated. I have a better chance of doing my writing when I'm working ten-hour days.

On the plus side, I got some new books to add to the ever expanding list of To-Read list, all of which g0t a free pass to the front of the list.

The Complete Guide to Writing Fantasy, Darin Park and Tom Dullemond--I've read the first couple of chapters so far, which didn't contain anything particularly memorable, but there does seem to be some interesting stuff later on about devising magical systems and societies and other fantasy-specific issues
Her Smoke Rose Up Forever, James Tiptree Jr.--Haven't started this yet, but she seemed like an author I ought to read.
Steering the Craft, Ursula K. LeGuin--Another writing book to feed my addiction. I like reading books on writing, because it helps keep me focused on process rather than product.
Stardust, Neil Gaiman and Charles Vess--The movie comes out later this year so I have to read this before then.

As far as New Year's resolutions go, I'd thought about doing JanNoWriMo this month with a few other people, but I've decided to try another goal for the first few months of the year instead and start the novel writing in the summer. I'd post what my goals for the year are, except I've found that I do better when I keep them to myself.

A happy, productive, and prosperous New Year to all!

Granny Squares

2006-12-23T12:06:00.000-08:00

Luckily, my niece Ayeka can't read yet, and her dad and mom don't read my blog often (as far as I know), so I can post this picture of what I made her for Christmas.

I started crocheting the baby blanket in August right after Ayeka was born. The plan was to send it a few weeks later, not at Christmas, which is good because if I'd planned on sending it at Christmas, it wouldn't have gotten finished until Easter or her first birthday.

My original design idea was to make the whole thing out of granny squares. But about three squares in, looking at the stack of little pink potholders and calculating how many dozens more I'd need for the whole blanket, I sunk into a funk of sysiphean demoralization, since every time you finish a square, you start all over on a new one, and the pile never seems to grow very fast. So I decided to make the blanket one big granny square and incorporate the ones I'd already finished into the design. Easier to see progress that way.

I crochet the way I write--lots of revisions along the way and unravelling of work already done.

But it's finished now. Yay! Now if I could only say that about a few other things.

Cat Tales

2006-12-22T19:33:00.000-08:00

I came across this today:

"Cat Tales, which will launch in 2007, is seeking fantasy and suspense stories of 500-5,000 words involving cats. Cats must be portrayed in a positive light. No talking cats -- yes, this is a firm rule. Payment is 3 cents/word for First North American Serial Rights."

This is so my market. If only I had a cat story...

Hmm.

Muse on Strike

2006-12-19T23:06:00.000-08:00

Apparently the best way to stop any writing progress whatsoever is to give myself a deadline. The Muse doesn't deal well with pressure. Oh sure, she's happy enough to play along when it's all just fun and games, but hit her with a deadline, with the possibility that this time the story is "for real," and she disappears faster than a Wii at Best Buy. (My stepdaughter really wants a Wii for Christmas. Ha.)

For a good three weeks I was cruising along, writing every day. Little freewriting exercises mostly, which sometimes ended up being not so little--over a thousand words a pop, often enough. Then the guilt started. You know, that little voice that whispers like the snake in Eden, ever so helpfully, "This is all well and good, but you haven't really finished any stories yet. Nothing to send out to market. How are you going to be a real writer if you don't send anything out? If you don't finish anything?" Those two words, "real writer," are the killer.

So, not wanting to be a poseur and a bit overconfident from the recent rush of progress, I put aside the writing exercises and set a deadline for finishing the Real Story. The one I was supposed to be working on. It wasn't even a tough deadline--a simple "finish the story before New Year's"-- but I've gone from averaging 700 words a night to averaging nil over the past week. A new approach is called for.

I thought it'd be interesting to look over the results of my freewriting exercises to see what I write about when the subconscious get full rein. So far I have:
1 murdered unicorn
1 pedophiliac school principal and 2 no-so-human little boys
1 whispering doll and 1 girl locked in attic
2 falling angels
1 Yeti
1 posse of dwarves
1 guardian lawn gnome, who I think might become a lawn flamingo in future drafts
2 mermaids out-of-water, in 2 different stories
1 time travel love story
1 possible alien invasion (with laser-beam eyes--woohoo!)
2 stories with no hint of SF anywhere (yet)
Lots of blood, death, and violence, especially murder
and
1 Muse who likes to play around with SF cliches

We're headed back East for a week during Christmas, during which time I will be negotiating work terms with the Muse. I hope we can reach some sort of accomodation.

Fix It In Post

2006-12-09T14:53:00.000-08:00

My life these days consists pretty much of eight solid hours a day of work, throwing some words at the page for a half hour to an hour a night, and sleep. Which means I don't have much of interest to blog about. So I'll talk about work instead.

I'm a junior compositor on the film I'm working on now, which at this company apparently means I'm qualified to paint out wires. At other places, that just makes you a paint artist, usually lumped into paint/roto artist. Which is what I was before. Same job, different title.

Wire removal. Which sometimes involves taking out stray cameramen, boom mikes, cranes, etc. as well. Not a job I'd ever envisioned myself having, seeing as how it is time-consuming, tedious, and requires little brainpower. Strangely enough, I like my job, though. There's something satisfying about creating these pristine film frames, with no trace of wires or intruding cameramen. Painting people out of existence--that's power for you.

Paintwork requires a handful of basic strategies. The most obvious is to paint out the offending object frame by frame. Avoid this if at all possible. Besides the apparent painfulness of this option--shots can run a couple of hundred frames and you'd often have to paint each and every frame--it's very hard to maintain consistency across the frame range. Even if you were to make just one paint stroke on each frame, that would mean you'd have to make the exact same stroke every single time. Otherwise, you end up with crawling, squiggly noise, which would be just as distracting as a wire. Personally, my hand is just not that steady.

The other strategies are mostly variations on a theme. You patch over the sections of the frame where the wires are with a section that's already clean. The clean areas can come from moving over a section of that same frame, pulling from an earlier or later frame, or painting one clean frame to use in the rest of the footage. Basically, you want to try and copy another piece of footage and paste it over the wire, all the while making sure that everything lines up consistently. Did I mention a good measure of meticulous perfectionism comes in handy for this? Depending on the software you use, you can also paint a single stroke and then track that in over multiple frames, which can avoid some of the problems with hand-painting frames.

Having said that hand-painting is to be avoided as much as possible, I've spent most of the past week painting out wires frame by frame by frame. The wires in my shots this week were thrashing around in front of a big, smoky explosion with lots of camera motion. When things are changing that much with every frame, sometimes you have no choice but to hand-paint each one. Luckily smoke is easy to paint. Good times.

Usually, though, you use a combination of strategies for every shot, depending on where the wires are and what kind of motion is in the footage.

I figured I should come up with a clever way that wire removal can be used as an analogy to something writing-related, something related to my recent rethinkings about my writing process. Here it is: Writing is like film-making. There's a lot of grumbling amongst visual effects artists (like me) that on-set filming involves too much use of the phrase, "Just shoot it. We'll fix it in post." Who cares that the wire is obscuring the actor's face the entire scene? Just get it on film--some poor schmuck can fix it later. I grumble because that poor schmuck often ends up being me, but as far as getting a film done on time and within reasonable bounds of the budget, that's often the way you need to work. Get it on film--we'll clean it up later.

Same with stories. Get the words on paper. Worry about cleaning it up, editing it tighter, making it pretty later. It's a little harder when you're writing, because you know the poor schmuck getting stuck with the dirty work is going to be you--but there's a different joy to be found in doing that kind of work, I've found. (Although, sure, it's still tedious and damn hard.)

So don't worry what loose wire are showing in the first draft. Just get it on paper. We'll fix it in post.

Bootcamp Progress

2006-11-30T21:26:00.000-08:00

I thought I'd post an update on how things are going so far (and thereby jinx any further progress).

The plan of doing timed writing AND untimed writing every night was a little ambitious. Apparently. What I've been managing to do every night is the timed freewriting. Because it's so very non-threatening. I know that all I have to do is sit down for x number of minutes and whatever verbiage I spew out in that amount of time is fine. No pressure to have pretty sentences or plots that make sense or any other traits of good writing. Just sit and spew, and when the timer goes off, I can call it a day. That I usually end up writing beyond the timed limits is a bonus.

I did a week of setting the timer for twenty minutes. I didn't have any prompts to start with, and I ended up spending four nights writing the continuation of a single "story." And while words were coming out, and I was having fun writing, there was a very meandering, stalling quality to the story. Lots of time-filling waste of prose. I had the feeling that I could keep it up indefinitely and end up with the world's longest plotless novel. (There are a lot of contenders for that title, though; some of them award-winning.)

Feeling vaguely dissatisfied, I did a look around for articles and books with freewriting exercises, and came across this book called Fast Fiction. I'd seen the book on Amazon before but never felt compelled to look into it further. The basic concept (as gleaned from Amazon reviews and elsewhere) is to set the timer for five minutes and then to write a complete story in that time. The key point that I was missing earlier, though, is to have a writing prompt before you start and the intention to wrap up the story in five minutes. I'm sure there are other tidbits I'm missing, but since I still haven't bought the book, I will continue to miss them. Holly Lisle's workshop on timed writing also recommends having a topic.

I should mention that I've always been very resistant to the idea of doing writing exercises, the thought being that by doing exercises I was taking time and energy away from doing my "real" writing. Since I wasn't doing my "real" writing however, I finally figured that I should at least be doing practice writing. (David Gerrold's Worlds of Wonder is my favorite writing book because of a one-page chapter about how, until you've written one million words, it's all just practice. You practice writing short stories and novels, practice sending them out, practice getting them published, and hell, practice accepting awards if it comes to that. But until you've reached that million word mark, practice is all it is. I wanted to have that page enlarged to hang on my wall, but since my copy of the book is now lost forever, I don't think that will ever happen. Would make a lovely Christmas gift from someone though...)

I've done a week of "five-minute" timed writings now with random topic prompts. What I've found is that I still end up writing for about twenty minutes--I can't seem to wrap up a story in less time. The timer goes off and I still keep writing. I'm averaging about 700 words a day, which isn't bad considering I am only writing for twenty minutes. The prompted writing has produced what I consider to be interesting sketches for stories. They'd need to be thought out a bit more and revised (another new concept that the Muse will be learning at some point soon), but I expect that the revisions will be somewhat less painful than they had been, since a.) I have a more-or-less complete story arc that I know in advance, and thus, an outline [my apologies for mentioning the dreaded "O" word--the afrighted know who they are], and b.) I haven't invested a lot of blood and tears into the drafts so far. Fewer darlings to kill.

So, I'm happy with things thus far. One of the main things I've gotten out of this exercise is dispensing with this notion I'd somehow acquired that each story awaits in its perfect form out in the ether and the writer's job, like Michelangelo's idea of releasing a sculpture from stone, was to somehow capture that story. I don't know that I'd consciously thought of stories like that, but I was aware of judging whether aspects of the story were "right" or not. Is that the right structure for this story, the right tone, the right theme? The timed writings, where I'm making things up as I go, has reaffirmed writing as an act of creation. I'm not simply the means of transmitting a story, some sort of messenger for the story muse, whose job is to deliver the message correctly, but the person in charge of how the story goes. Instead of discovering the proper form for the story, I'm deciding it. I don't worry about what the story wants to be, only about choosing what to write. It's good not to be worrying about writing something "right," especially for a born perfectionist.

The second thing I've gotten out of this is that I'm having fun writing again. I've relearned how much I love making up stories and writing them down. And that, of course, is the most important lesson of all.

Do I have a new story yet? Well, no. This is a very one step forward, two steps back approach. I'm basically reinventing my whole writing process. One thing at a time.

What's This?

2006-11-25T23:25:00.000-08:00

Walking to the store today, with icy white things whipping down from the sky, I felt like Jack Skellington:
What's this? What's this?
There's color everywhere
What's this?
There's white things in the air
What's this?
I can't believe my eyes
I must be dreaming...

If I remember correctly, the white stuff is called "snow." I seem to recall it from my childhood, when we would pray for "snow days" so school would be cancelled. In L.A. a "snow day" is when they bring a truck filled with snow to the school and dump it on the playground for the kids to play in.

Update: The day after. Still snowing. When we moved up here, they told us it doesn't snow in Vancouver. Liars.

Turbidity

2006-11-25T14:22:00.000-08:00

The word of the week here is turbid:
1.

not clear or transparent because of stirred-up sediment or the like; clouded; opaque; obscured: the turbid waters near the waterfall.

2.	thick or dense, as smoke or clouds.

3.	confused; muddled; disturbed.

The word, while also describing my current state of mind re: writing, is relevant this week because for the past eight days Vancouver has been under a boil-water advisory due to high levels of turbidity in the reservoir waters. The heavy rains last week caused mudslides that dirtied up the reservoirs, turning the tap water here a nice yellowish brown. (This was best illustrated by the water in the toilet, which perpetually looked like it needed to be flushed. I was going to take a picture, but good taste prevailed. Or possibly I just didn't get to it while the waters were particularly bad.)

Because of fears of bacteria contamination in the water, they issued the boil-water advisory. So, for the past week, no using tap water for drinking, brushing teeth, or washing fruits and veggies. The water all has to be boiled or bottled. Which reminds me of living in China last year, except that at least everyone there knew that the water was unsafe and had big bottles of water delivered to the apartment.

The water looks better now, only faintly brown. But they aren't going to make any decisions about the advisory until after the weekend, so it's off to the store to get more bottled water.

And then I'll try and clear up my mental turbidity about this story that won't decide what it wants to be.

For aspiring auteurs...

2006-11-23T13:23:00.000-08:00

I recently found out about a reality TV show/competition for wannabe directors being produced by Steven Spielberg and Mark Burnett. It's called "On the Lot". The show will follow the usual format: 16 contestants, weekly challenges, eliminations, etc. The winner gets a million dollar development deal with Dreamworks.

The website has the five-minute application films that people have submitted so far. (There's still time to submit a film--deadline's February 16, 2007!) I haven't watched any of them yet, but I'm supposing there's some decent little films.

I showed the site to Brad since his dream is to direct movies (as mandated by L.A. County law), but I don't know if he's going to enter something or not.

I'm a little surprised that it's taken this long for them to get around to a show featuring directors--it seems like a more natural fit for TV than following, say, wannabe business tycoons.

Everything's Been Done Before

2006-11-21T16:03:00.000-08:00

I recommended David Gerrold's SF writing book to Ben the other day, and while browsing through Gerrold's Wikipedia entry, I discovered this:

"After Heinlein's death, Ginny Heinlein gave up her California home, and Gerrold adopted Heinlein's cat, Pixel."

What? My cat's named Pixel, too. A little more searching revealed that Heinlein apparently had a cat named Pixel in The Cat Who Walks Through Walls. The same cat also makes an appearance in To Sail Beyond the Sunset. Neither of which I've ever read.

My cat Pixel was a little upset to hear that he didn't have an original name, and more upset by the fact that his name had been used by Heinlein, of all people. He's not such a big fan of Heinlein's books.

Oh well. At least this explains how Pixel can magically appear in a room half a second after I've thoroughly looked there for him.

Mt. Shasta

2006-11-18T01:04:00.000-08:00

I took this picture while we were driving up to Vancouver last week. Lots of beautiful scenery in northern California.

Muse Bootcamp

2006-11-14T21:59:00.000-08:00

Enough of that airy-fairy, "write when you're ready" nonsense. I've coddled my Muse for too long now, and what has she done for me lately? Nada. She flits by with an idea every few days or so, but does she stick around for the hard slog? Decidedly not.

Awed once more by the Gord Almighty and his prodigious output, I've had another hard stare at this thing that's shaping up into something suspiciously akin to writer's block. And here's the problem, I think: my brain's gotten into some bad habits. Laziness, for one. But also, the inability to stay focused and immersed in the fictive dream.

I had an idea for a quick, little piece I was going to jot out after coming back from Austin. Quick and little--key words there. Now, I am going to give myself some leeway since I was moving and starting a new job and all that. But when I finally did sit down to write this past weekend, I got all of 200 words in (painfully and slowly at that) and that was it. Brain shut down. Muse in retreat. I'd write a sentence, maybe two, and then my mind would wander away, like an Alzheimer's patient with ADD. Story? What story? Oh...that story. Right. Where was I? type type typ--Oooh, what's that over there?

So that's it. No more pandering to the whims of Inspiration and Mood and prissy notions about Art. I'm setting up a schedule for crap manufacturing and this is how it goes:

1. Timed freewriting--twenty minutes to start. I'll gradually up this to an hour over the course of the next few months. "Freewriting" is probably the wrong word, since I have to be writing a story, no journalling or free association. This is to retrain myself to keep writing and stay in the flow. Because if I stop to think about the right word or the next logical action, it gives the brain a chance to stall out, get distracted. Not that thinking about those things is bad, which is why there is also exercise number two.

2. Daily word count goals--I used to do this. I had a big desk calendar with a little checkbox on each date. I'd color in the box with pink highlighter when I'd completed my 1000 words for that day and I'd write the day's tally beside it. I stopped doing it when we moved to China because my calendar wouldn't fit in my suitcase, but that was okay because the habit was set enough that I could do without my checkboxes. That no longer seems to be the case. I'm lowering the bar to 500 words a day to start. (Since I'll already do about 500 words in my twenty minutes of freewriting, it works out to 1000 a day anyway.) The word count must be added to whatever new story I'm currently working on--I don't have any revisions planned for a couple of months anyway; it's useless to even think about them until I can get this whole writing discipline thing under control again. Once I can use my daily word count goals to actually complete drafts of things, then I can think about revisions.

The observant reader will note that the emphasis here is on quantity and speed rather than quality. I'm not really concerned about that. My Muse is obsessed enough about quality that I trust that after I churn out enough crap, she'll get exasperated and try to wield her influence to make it something decent, scheduled rigidity or no. (How much crap it's going to take, I don't know. Could be a few weeks' worths. Could be more.) But until then, quality control is out the window. If I don't have any stories to send out for a few months, so be it. As long as writing is getting done. The current system isn't producing anything publishable either--since it's not, in fact, producing anything at all.

Sigh. Nothing like having a day job to kick you into seriousness about writing.

Existence Update

2006-11-08T23:04:00.000-08:00

Pulse? Check.

Brain activity? None.

Status: probably not dead. Although I feel like I was and have been reanimated as a zombie. (Luckily, I have not had any cravings for the taste of brains. Yet. And if I did die, I missed my dramatic exit scene, so I hope someone caught it on tape.)

World Fantasy and relocation updates forthcoming upon resumption of thought processes.

My Life: The Soundtrack

2006-11-01T23:01:00.000-08:00

I'm supposed to be packing so I can be ready for my 5am SuperShuttle pick-up and possibly sneak a couple hours of sleep before then so I won't be a complete zombie when I get to Austin (I am, after all, going to the World Fantasy Convention, not World Horror). Which makes this the perfect time to try out this meme I saw on Nick Mamatas' LJ a few weeks ago for creating the soundtrack to your life's movie. I figured I'd do it now and save the film editors some work.

The rules:
1. Open your library (iTunes, Winamp, Media Player, iPod, etc)
2. Put it on shuffle
3. Press play
4. For every question, type the song that's playing
5. When you go to a new question, press the next button
6. Don't lie and try to pretend you're cool...

Opening Credits:
Gold--Lamb (Huh. Didn't even remember I downloaded this album. Anyway, at least the movie gets off to a rollicking start.)

Waking Up:
Happy?--Judy & Mary (J-pop. Whee!)

First Day of School:
It's My Life--No Doubt

Falling in Love:
Harmony in Balance--Nawang Khechog

Fight Song:
City of Delusion--Muse

Breaking Up:
Water Shows the Hidden Heart--Enya

Prom:
Strange Liberation--Jeff Beal and Nawang Khechog (Apparently this is a prom/meditation retreat.)

Life is Good:
Stay With Me--The Mission UK

Mental Breakdown:
Cupid's Dead--Extreme

Driving:
So Like A Rose--Garbage

Flashback:
Feel the Same Way--Saigon Kick ("Feel the same way, for the rest of my life...")

Getting Back Together:
Polaroid Girl--Massive Attack

Wedding:
Stand Up--Trapt (!!)

Paying the Dues:
Last Dance--Sarah McLachlan (It's hard to know what the hidden meaning is when the song's instrumental. However, since paying one's dues is a process of slow and dreary slogging, this works.)

The Night Before the War:
Wasteland--The Mission UK (Appropriate.)

Final Battle:
Bleeder--Nothingface (Album Title: Violence)

Moment of Triumph:
Thank You--Alanis Morissette (A bittersweet triumph, I suppose. "Thank you disillusionment.")

Death Scene:
Starfuckers, Inc.--NIN (Apparently Hollywood is going to be my downfall.)

Funeral Song:
Song for Love--Extreme ("My love just died...")

End Credits:
Phoenix--The Cult (Nice. Setting up the sequel.)

Right. Well, thank God none of my really embarrassing stuff was on that list. And I don't know how random my mp3 player is since three artists showed up twice and yet dozens of other artists made no appearance whatsoever. Weird.

Okay, I guess I do need to pack now. Yay! Texas, here I come!

Switching Gears

2006-10-30T03:16:00.000-08:00

I'm in LA right now taking care of some stuff before heading to World Fantasy, but next week I'll be back up in Vancouver working. I'll be compositing on one of two films, but I'm not sure which one yet. Neither is particularly high-profile or exciting, though. So, I'll be spending my days and evenings sitting in front of a computer monitor staring a film frames instead of sitting in front of a computer staring at half-blank Word docs. (Half-blank or half-filled? Doesn't matter. Either way, the story isn't done.)

What this all means is, I don't anticipate getting much writing done for the next few months, which is probably a good thing. I think I need to give my brain a rest. Note that I didn't say I wouldn't be getting ANY writing done, just not MUCH. I still have a few projects where I have some sort of clue of what's going on. But I need to shift the focus off of trying to get as many stories done and out the door as possible. That approach is proving counter-productive for me. I end up spending too much time trying to figure out how to compress the story so I can finish it faster instead of telling the story the way it needs to be told. And I end up trying to rush the planning and development process, which is crucial for me to be able to finish the story. So then I get stuck and jump to another story. Repeat cycle. (When will I learn that there are no shortcuts?) Now I have broken pieces of three different stories scattered across various drafts rather than one decent, completed story. And I have stories out that I know are broken or incomplete as well.

Moral of the story: don't try to be someone else. I've been spending too much time watching people who can wing their way through a draft with only the faintest clue what's happening next. People who can finish drafts way quicker than I can. I wish I could work that way. But I can't--I've tried, and things just end up in a muddle. So, I'm taking some time to regroup and focus on other things to coax my poor, browbeaten muse from its frightened retreat.

Today's mantra: Writing is not a competive sport.
Also: Trust yourself.

More Vancouver, with pix

2006-10-24T18:51:00.000-07:00

So the day after I posted about buying salwars from eShakti.com, we went to the Little India section of Vancouver. Three blocks of mostly clothing shops selling saris and salwars and all that. I bought another salwar kameez outfit from the place in the picture, after experiencing several minutes of sensory overload--too many choices. (I still like the styles on eShakti better, but it is nice to be able to look at the fabrics when you're buying.)

We also went to Queen Elizabeth Park and took some pictures. Beautiful sunshine, nice cool air. Great day.

On Sunday we headed over to the Space Center to hear Spider Robinson read from Variable Star. Spider is entertaining to listen to, and while the section of the book he read was mostly talking heads, the dialogue was rendered engagingly enough that I could almost forget that nothing was actually happening. I am hoping that there are action sequences at some point in the book. Not that I bought it. My to-read list is already too long.

All in all it's been a fun trip. (And right now it looks like I'll be coming back up here to work in two weeks. Yay--I think.)

Vancouver Pix

Shopping for Salwars

2006-10-19T15:15:00.000-07:00

I'm not a particularly fashion-conscious person. It's not that I wouldn't like to be fashionable and nicely dressed, but working against that are the facts that a.) I don't like spending money on clothes, b.) I think most clothing in stores is boring, and c.) I generally hate going shopping. But every once in a while, I'll get inspired to try and spice up the old wardrobe (and believe me, most of it is really old).

Which brings me to my latest discovery: eShakti.com. I have a weakness for Indian fabrics and trims, so this place totally sucked me in. They sell salwar kameez, which are loose pants and tunic outfits popular in Pakistan and India. Some of the prints and combinations get a little busy for my tastes, but there's enough of a range of styles and fabrics that I spent several hours browsing and drooling. One of the things I hate about shopping is that you'll see an outfit you like and then find out that they don't have your size. Not a problem here: you can put in your measurements and they'll custom make your outfit for you. And while you're at it, you can specify what type of sleeve or pant cut you want, change the shape of the neckline or the length of the tunic. And for all that, the prices aren't bad.

After spending a few days deciding what I liked best, I took the plunge and ordered some outfits. It took about two weeks for them to get made and arrive from India. The fabrics are beautiful and everything looks as promised. Some of the clothes are too loose (part of that has to do with the fact that they're made to fit loosely--just a little too loose for me), so I still have to get them altered a bit. Overall, I'm happy though. Perhaps I'll have pictures later.

Now I just have to find some matching shoes.

In Vancouver

2006-10-16T14:18:00.000-07:00

I'm up north here visiting Brad for the next week and a half. I arrived late Saturday and, whadya know, it was raining. Also rained all day yesterday. We went out anyway, rain being something of a novelty for me these days. "Walking in the rain sounds fun,"I thought. And it was--for about an hour. We stayed out for four.

We went to Chinatown and then sloshed around Gastown. Seeing as how it was wet and miserable, we didn't really feel up to looking around either place much. We did stop into a bakery in Chinatown for lunch and had the best steamed pork buns ever. Brad said they reminded him of the ones he had in Beijing, but the ones I got down in WuXi were never that great. The pork buns yesterday though were fluffy and soft with tangy shreds of pork in the middle.

Of course today, when we aren't going out anywhere, it's nice and sunny. Hopefully the weather will stay that way for at least a few days while I'm here, because I'm sure Vancouver's very pretty when it is. There's some hints of fall color in the trees , which is a nice change.

Funny, I 'd forgotten that I have seasonal allergies, not having lived any place with real seasons for such a long time. My sinuses remembered, though.

A Tanka for Maura

2006-10-10T05:23:00.000-07:00

Empty and silent,
The unbroken field of white
Awaits spring blossoms.
Dawn undoes the curse or tracks
Muddied ramblings in the snow.

House Guest

2006-10-05T03:16:00.000-07:00

Rudy here is staying with me for a couple of weeks while his mom is in Thailand. He's an old guy who wobbles around on arthritic legs, but he still likes to chase pieces of string, albeit very slowly. He's adapted well to being in a new home, taking over a section of the couch and munching out of Pixel's bowl.

Pixel, on the other hand, has not adapted well to have someone impinging on his turf. Lots of growling and hissing whenever Rudy comes near. Like his mother, Pixel is not particularly well socialized. It takes him awhile to warm up to others, especially those who sneak into his food and keep him from being the center of attention. Damn prima donnas.

Shiny and Phat

2006-09-30T19:24:00.000-07:00

Nobody walks in L.A.

So the song goes. I'll rant about that later.

However, it's true that this isn't a very walk-friendly city, especially out in the Valley. So I got me a bike. It's a single-speed Phat cruiser, bare bones functional. Purty, eh?

I am now a big fan of bike lanes.

Simmer Slowly

2006-09-29T06:29:00.000-07:00

I was at Farrell's Ice Cream Parlour recently, and on their menu it says, "No matter how long it takes, our service is fast!"

I'm not entirely sure what this means, but it seemed somehow relevant when I was thinking about how slowly the writing process goes at times. Yeah, okay--all the time. Some things just can't be rushed. At least for me.

I bring this up because I thought I was going to have a story done today, ahead of my self-imposed deadline. But as I was struggling through the last scene, it suddenly occurred to me what the story was really about and what I needed to do to fix it. Which in this case necessitates rewriting from top to bottom. *sigh* Still, better than being stuck with crap.

Back to drafting...

Food Adventures at the Thai Temple

2006-09-28T08:12:00.000-07:00

I lived in the Valley for four or five years before, but somehow I hadn't heard about the Wat Thai Buddhist Temple in North Hollywood. So some friends took me up there on Sunday. The thing to know about the Thai Temple is that on weekends, vendors set up a food court near the parking lot selling all kinds of Thai food, a lot of which you don't normally see in restaurants. Extra bonus: most of it's cheap and yummy.

After exchanging some cash for tokens, I perused the booths and decided to start with some longan juice ($1.50) which was too sugary for me and thought I'd play it safe with red curry chicken w/ rice ($3) which was too, um, spicy. After years of cooking for Brad, who can't eat anything spicier than oatmeal, my spice tolerance is admittedly low. So after half a plate my tongue got burnt out, forcing me to get a bag of batter-dipped fried bananas ($2), piping hot from the fryer. I was tempted to try the fried sweet potatoes too, but I'm saving those for later.

The big discovery of the day, though, was Thai desserts. The great thing about a lot of Thai desserts is that you can pretend you're being healthy by eating them. More fruit and veggies in the diet can't ever be a bad thing, right? I tried some egg custard served over rice cooked in coconut milk ($2.50-yum) and bought a piece of custard-filled kabocha squash ($3=vegetable + dessert) to take home. Kabocha squash is slightly sweet when cooked and goes well with the custard. Kind of like pumpkin pie. My favorite of the day, however, was the mango and coconut sticky rice. They take a sweet, juicy mango, slice it, and serve it with sticky rice and a cup of coconut sauce. There are also some crunchy fried bean sprinkles for texture. Mixed all together in your mouth, you end up with a muy delicioso mango rice pudding. I know that this sounds blasphemous, but I may like it even better than chocolate.

In addition to the food, there is also a temple, complete with monks.

Next time I'll take pictures. Because there will definitely be a next time.

Angelina Jolie = Dagny Taggart?

2006-09-23T17:35:00.000-07:00

A friend pointed me to this piece of news from Variety. There's also rumors that Brad Pitt is considering playing John Galt. That I would like to see.

My Muse, Hard at Work

2006-09-21T01:05:00.000-07:00

I have a new desk accessory. You can see why my word counts are just soaring, as of late.

(Dream of new stories, little Pixel. Please.)

A Few of My Favorite Things

2006-09-19T01:50:00.000-07:00

With Brad gone to work in Vancouver for the next three months and me being stuck here, I thought now would be a good time to count my blessings and remind myself of some reasons why I love L.A.

Nothing is springing to mind, though.

(If I'd ever gone to see "The Sound of Music" sing-a-long at the Hollywood Bowl, that might be one of my favorite things, but I always forget about it until after the shows for that season have passed.)

Hmm...

Reason #1: It's not West Virginia.

Reason #2: ...

Yeah. Maybe I'll think of some more tomorrow.

Kitsch and Curry

2006-09-16T13:25:00.000-07:00

We went to our favorite Japanese restaurant for lunch yesterday, a little place in Studio City called Daichan. They serve the Japanese equivalent of soul food: teriyaki and katsu-don bowls, curry rice, udon and soba soups, onigiri and croquettes, plus some good sushi. Brad broke out of his teriyaki rut for once and discovered his new favorite dish, a California bowl. They take the same ingredients for a California roll and put it in a bowl, so it's rice with a layer of sliced avocado and cucumber topped with shredded crabmeat, then sprinkled with nori. I like the curry.

The thing I love about Daichan, however, is the decor. Most Japanese restaurants go for simple, minimalistic elegance--clean walls, exposed wood beams, a tasteful flower arrangement or two. Daichan has a much more homey feel. Every inch of wall space is covered with Japanese posters and prints, masks and knickknacks, and hand-drawn depictions of menu items. Lanterns, kites, and fans hang from the ceiling. Rice-paper screens, kimonos displayed on stands, and an assortment of other Japan-related bric-a-brac complete the clutter. It's cozy and comforting without feeling crowded. Lots of fun.

Slow Road to Recovery

2006-09-13T02:54:00.000-07:00

I managed 800 words of a new story today, the high point of productivity thus far post-Clarion. I'm still trying to get settled and establish a daily routine so I can get back to meeting regular writing goals. The plan was to have another story revised by now, but let me tell you, it's tough getting motivated about revisions at this point. So I have officially put them on hold until further notice. No use banging my head against that wall.

Chisan-chisou

2006-09-08T18:36:00.000-07:00

As I sat here eating a piece of red velvet cake instead of, say, the bland watermelon in my fridge or the half-ripe plums on the kitchen counter, I ran across an article about why kids in Japan eat more vegetables. The basic answer is that local, small-scale farming produces better tasting fruits and veggies. This philosophy of "grow locally, consume locally" is known as chisan chisou. It's part of the Japanese obsession with fresh, high-quality food.

For several years, my mom kept a vegetable garden in our backyard, as did my (American) grandmother and many other families in the little West Virginian town I grew up in. But then a number of years passed where we were just buying produce from the supermarkets, and truthfully, I didn't think much about it, until I finally made it back to Japan to visit my grandfather one summer. The thing I remember most about that visit (a little sad, I know) is how good the vegetables tasted. We ate corn on the cob, tomatoes, eggplant, cucumbers, daikon, and watermelon--all picked minutes before from the garden. Oh yeah, I thought, this is how vegetables are supposed to taste. I can't even begin to describe how much more flavor they had from the stuff I get in the States. The taste made eating vegetables fun.

My grandfather has been a farmer in Japan for most of his life. He comes from a farming family, as do most Japanese. Up until a few years ago, the field in the picture above would have been filled during the summer with all types of vegetables and melons. This, in addition to the acres of rice paddies he also owned and farmed. He's getting too old to do all the hard work himself, though, and my mom lives too far away to help him often enough, so he's more recently tended to succumb to the ease of pre-packaged foods. He still loves the taste of fresh vegetables, though, so when I was there in May, my mom and I helped him plant a few rows of his garden--cucumbers, eggplant, corn, tomatoes, watermelon, and beans. It's good for him to get out and take care of the plants and to have truly fresh-from-the-vine foods to eat.

It'd be good for all of us, I suspect.

Down from the Ledge

2006-09-05T20:00:00.000-07:00

I decided several days ago that what I really needed to be doing is writing novels. Short stories be damned, I'm a novelist at heart. This is akin to me saying that I ought to race in the Indy 500 this spring, even though right now I can barely drive 3 blocks solo.

I am now over that delusion and will resume my regularly scheduled short story writing and revising. If anyone hears me talk about writing novels before I actually learn how to properly finish a short story, please laugh in my face and mention the word "hubris." Thank you.

Erhu-ist on the Roof

2006-09-04T13:09:00.000-07:00

John Williams made his annual appearance guest conducting at the Hollywood Bowl on Friday and Saturday nights. We went to see the performance on Friday--I think the fourth time we've seen him in the eight years we've lived in L.A. John Williams always gets a big crowd, a mix of film buffs and Star Wars geeks, of which there are tons of both in these parts. (Brad would be both; I, of course, am neither.) Williams generally tries to do half a program of other composers' film scores and the rest his own. I go because it's always interesting to hear film music by itself, without the accompanying visuals.

My favorite piece of the evening was a medley from Fiddler on the Roof. I'd forgotten how much I love the music from that. The concertmaster for the L.A. Philharmonic for their summer Hollywood Bowl performances is a Chinese woman named Bing Wang. She's an excellent solo violinist as well, which she proved during that piece. Watching her, it struck me that Fiddler on the Roof could be fairly easily reworked into a Chinese setting. I don't know--there's something about the structure of the society and the characters that reminded me of China. Fiddler on the Roof as Peking Opera. Maybe I'll do that some day when I'm bored. Right after I learn how to compose Chinese music and speak Mandarin.

Her solos also reminded me of one thing I hate about going to the Bowl. Well, not so much her solos but the audience reaction to it. Right after her very flashy solo for Fiddler, the audience broke into wild applause, BEFORE the piece was actually over. Never mind the fact that the rest of the orchestra is still playing, people feel compelled to clap NOW. The whole etiquette of attending classical music performances gets a little lost at the Bowl. What was even more annoying, however, was that the audience didn't clap after her solo during an earlier piece. A very beautiful solo, but since it lacked the flashy and visually obvious difficulty of the Fiddler solo, no one took especial notice. It's like watching figure skating--everyone cheers for the triple-axles, but a beautifully-executed spiral sequence looks so easy, no one thinks to clap.

The other thing I find disturbing about the Hollywood Bowl is the video screens. They put up six screens where they project shots from the various on-stage cameras throughout the entire performance. And I don't know what magical power video screens possess, but as soon as something is playing on one, your eye is immediately drawn to it, no matter what's happening elsewhere. Someone could be getting murdered in front of a crowd of people, but if there was a videocast of it off to the side, people would watch the murder on the screen instead. So, you're at the Hollywood Bowl, listening to a live orchestra play, and yet you end up watching it on a screen. Might as well be at home watching it on TV.

The screens did provide the comic highlight of the evening. (The phalanx of geeks wielding light sabers who conduct along with the "Imperial March" are there every year, so they don't count.) During the second half of the program, I noticed the cameras cutting to a shot of this guy in the orchestra who was just sitting there. The screen showed part of a clarinetist off to one side and some brass players behind him--but right in the middle, there's this guy doing nothing. At first it was just annoying--what's wrong with the director that he keeps cutting to this camera? But then, piece after piece, this guy--I assumed he was a clarinetist because he was sitting next to one--just sat there. Sometimes he yawned and scratched his nose, sometimes he bobbed his head to the music, once he bent over to play with something on the floor. Brad didn't see the guy until I nudged him and pointed him out, so I though I was the only one who noticed. But during the second encore, a whole section of the crowd started cheering out of the blue. I looked up, and there on the screen, was the idle clarinetist actually playing his instrument. He'd sat on-stage the entire second half of the program, just to play during the second encore.

WorldCon--Whee!

2006-08-27T20:34:00.000-07:00

Between a sudden kitty illness and being summoned to do income-producing "work," I only managed to spend a day down in Anaheim. But it was fun! I did my rounds, including hitting the Clarion West party. Saw both Julie and Jim for a little bit, said hi to Ellen and the Bears, talked to some other people I'd been wanting to meet, and put a lot of faces to names. Went to a couple of panels and readings. And spent about an hour wandering around the exhibition hall, chatting with Paul Park. (I don't think I spilled any embarrassing tales about my lovely classmates, although it was still early enough in the morning that brain and mouth were not in direct synchronization.) The day blurred past so fast that I have only sense impressions of everything--no revelations, news, or anecdotes to share. Sorry.

One of the readings I went to was by Phyllis Eisenstein--I haven't read all of her books but I love the fantasy novels I've read by her so far. I talked to her afterwards about her new projects and asked questions about the MFA program at Columbia College in Chicago where she teaches. Every few months I get seized by a strange fever, and while the fever lasts (often over several weeks), I obsessively research MFA programs, make lists of the pros and cons of traditional vs. low-residency programs, and generally expend a lot of brainpower in fretting over whether this is something I should pursue or not. Does anyone else suffer this sickness? If so, what do you do about it? 'Cause grad school applications are coming due in a couple of months and I feel the fever building again...

Book Meme

2006-08-23T00:06:00.000-07:00

Since I never can disappoint Ben when he's expecting me to write something, I'll do the meme thing, too.

1. One book that has changed your life:
Atlas Shrugged, Ayn Rand. My creative writing teacher/soccer coach in high school gave me his copy to read. This is the first book that got me interested in philosophy and politics and stirred my interest in fiction as something other than entertainment. But then it also ended up with me not writing for several years from being overly influenced by Ayn Rand. Always Coming Home (Le Guin) reminded me what kind of stories I like to write.

2. One book you have read more than once:
I read most books I like more than once. My favorite novel is Of Human Bondage (Maugham), which I hated when I finished reading it the first time because I hated the ending. But somehow my hate transmuted into love, so I read it again to see if I really did like the book. I've read it four times in all so far, which isn't much in terms of re-reading for me. I've read Alice in Wonderland over two dozen times, and books I probably don't want to admit to even more often than that.

3. One book you would want on a desert island:
Probably a short story anthology, like a Year's Best Fantasy, so I'd have some variety to choose from. Or maybe the Bible, because I'm never going to read it in-depth any other way.

4. One book that made you laugh:
Bridget Jones's Diary, Helen Fielding. Because there's so much truth in it. But generally I don't laugh much while reading.

5. One book that made you cry:
The Hundred Secret Senses, Amy Tan. It's much easier to make me cry than laugh in a book. Most romance novels have a tearjerker scene that will get my eyes watering.

6. One book you wish had been written:
The one with the secret instructions that tell me what I'm supposed to be doing with my life in order to be healthy, wealthy, and wise.

7. One book you wish had never been written:
War and Peace. At some point I got it into my head that I should read this book, but I've tried three times and I never get more than a third of the way through. I hate being defeated by a book.

8. One book you are currently reading:
I'm just finishing Lord of Light (Zelazny) and moving on to The Gospel of Corax (Paul Park).

9. One book you've been meaning to read:
Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell, (Susanna Clarke) has been sitting on my shelf for a year and a half now. Well, not actually on my shelf the entire time since I haven't had a bookshelf for most of the past year. But it went in the suitcase to China with me, and then to Santa Maria and San Francisco, and still it has not gotten read. Same with Ilium (Dan Simmons).

10. Tag five people:
I'll tag some people off-stage and see if they respond, lest I embarrass anyone (such as myself) in public.

UPDATE: Because many of the people I most dearly love actually use their time more productively than by blogging (which would explain why their story production rates are much higher than mine), I emailed them to get their responses to the book meme. Ian, David, and Nicole all responded to my pleas (you guys rock!), but because I am lame or possibly because I have been pushing pixels around for 10 hours a day, I hadn't gotten around to posting their responses. (Bad Tina!) I have now added them to the comments below.

Little Miss Sunshine and Bookstore Serendipity

2006-08-21T12:01:00.000-07:00

I didn't see Snakes on a Plane this weekend. But never fear, I will see it soon. It's just that now that my brain is once again nearing pre-Clarion functionality, I am reluctant to turn it off, even for two hours.

I did see Little Miss Sunshine, which my brain was very happy to watch. (My brain prefers when it gets to see a movie too, instead of getting turned off and left in the car.) The movie was, by turns, dark and cute, funny and poignant. Worth movie theater prices.

On another note, I wandered up to Dutton's Books the other day after my failed attempt to find a walk-in manicure salon. (In L.A., "Walk-ins Welcome" means you are welcome to walk in and make an appointment for the next day.) Dutton's used to have two stores selling new and used books, but they have already closed one store and are in the process of selling off the books in the second. It's very sad, except that all of the books are 50-75% off. I picked up several books by authors I've been wanting to read, including the two books that were on the top of my "Find This Book" list: Little, Big by John Crowley and The Gospel of Corax by Paul Park. Yippee!

The Unknown and the Unknowable

2006-08-20T04:31:00.000-07:00

In Lord of Light, Yama and Tak have a discussion about whether it matters if a demon is of supernatural origin or not. Yama argues that it does matter because: "It is the difference between the unknown and the unknowable, between science and fantasy..."

When I read that, my brain did a little switcheroo and came up with: "The difference between science fiction and fantasy is the difference between the unknown and the unknowable."

I've been turning that over in my head for the past several hours, trying to decide if that's a valid statement or not. I'll admit that it's been hard slogging for me and not entirely fruitful--I don't usually give a lot of thought to the difference between the two genres, except when other people bring it up. But at the same time, I haven't seen many definitions of the boundary between the two that I find entirely satisfying--mostly because they're either too clunky and complicated or they're too vague and vaporous. I'm looking for a definition that's easy to apply and doesn't let half the examples I think of fall through the cracks. Or worse yet, challenge me to create a story of my own as counterexample.

Of course, part of the reason I don't give this issue much thought is that I realize hard boundaries don't exist; there are too many exceptions and fuzzy areas. Still, perceivable differences do exist (esp. in the eyes of editors who only publish one or the other), and not having a satisfying way of defining them does vex me a bit. So, to try and sort all this out for myself, I thought I'd write out my thoughts so far.

Both sci-fi and fantasy deal with speculative elements that do not exist in the world as we know it. Some definitions say that in sci-fi those elements could exist, whereas in fantasy they are impossibilities, but there are plenty of examples where either our understanding of the scientific facts underpinning an speculative element has changed and rendered it an impossibility or where we know from the outset that the science is impossible, but the story in either case can still feel like sci-fi. So the theory I'm playing around with is that the difference in whether a given impossibility feels more like sci-fi or fantasy is whether it's presented as something that is unknown to us but still fathomable given enough time and study and knowledge, or is ultimately unknowable, a mystery of existence that just is.

If we go with that theory, then in science fiction the dominant worldview is one in which all things are comprehensible to the human mind with the proper application of the scientific process. Nothing exists for which there is no explanation possible. If we don't know something, it's because it hasn't been studied enough yet, but with enough patience and diligence, the answer will become clear. In sc-fi the nature of an impossibility may be unknown, but the underlying assumption is that it is possible to find out. What may appear to be magic to us is not, because the mechanism behind it is discoverable.

In fantasy, the worldview accepts that some things are unknowable. There is no mechanism behind the magic, no matter how much we try to study the matter; it simply exists. Whether the impossible comes in the form of sorcery, gods, or unnatural creatures, fantasy assumes a fundamental mystery which cannot be explained. The scientific process fails in the face of these breaks with our understanding of reality.

So, in a fantasy story, even if we dissected a dragon, we'd never discover how it managed the trick of breathing fire; in sci-fi, the dissection would show the chemical and physical processes involved. We don't need to see the dissection happen in either case, but we can usually tell from the way the story is told which is true in that world. When we can't tell, we've entered the fuzzy areas between the two genres where we aren't given the clues to tell if something is unknown or unknowable or the cross-genre realm where elements of each exist in the same story.

What I like best about this "unknown vs. unknowable" distinction is its succinctness, which I've now muddied up with my rambling. Probably others have given this idea more thought than me and discussed it more clearly and thoroughly, and I just haven't gotten around to finding those discussions yet. Or the truth/untruth of it is just plain obvious to everyone else and not worth discussing.

At any rate, it's been an interesting thought problem for me and helps explain why some people I know with very scientific worldviews hate reading fantasy. In a world where we believe that reason can unravel all mysteries, it's hard to believe in magic. But I think that, at the same time, when you really stop and wonder about the mysteries life and death, it's hard not to.

Major Motion Picture Event

2006-08-18T10:33:00.000-07:00

The cinematic masterpiece that is Snakes on a Plane opens today. What more do I need to say.

Idle CPUs are the Devil's Playthings

2006-08-17T11:41:00.000-07:00

It's a familiar scenario: You're at your desk "working" one day, when all of a sudden your computer wakes up and, bored with watching you play Solitaire and surf blog sites, decides that world domination sounds fun, goes out on the Net, gangs up with other ennui-afflicted computers, and bam!--next thing you know, we're all living in some post-Singularity apocalypse, where our computers treat us like goldfish. Not a pretty picture, I know.

To avoid this catastrophe, one remedy is to never let your computer sit idle by participating in a distributed computing project. I signed up for folding@home, a Stanford University project that studies protein folding and how it relates to diseases like cancer and Alzheimer's. That way, rather than twiddling its processors and plotting world takeover schemes when I'm not working (which is most of my "writing" time), my computer can help find a cure for these diseases. If you've taken your immortality pill (or perhaps your immorality pill) and don't care about curing cancer, you could have your computer search for alien intelligence or find really big prime numbers instead. Distributedcomputing.info has a list of active projects.

Of course, it's possible that, were your computer ready to overthrow humanity, the combined processing power of these networked projects would be the ideal playground for it and participating in one of them would only hasten our demise. But at least we'd have a cure for cancer.

Revisions, or the Fifth Circle of Hell

2006-08-15T17:49:00.000-07:00

Repent, O sinners! Ye who hath writ a passage obscure or left gaping a plot hole in which could fall a reader entire, ye who hath created characters neither soulful nor witty or let them hang in an ether devoid of both stone and tree--repent of thy sins and, if ye would be redeemed, listen: the way through this ring of Hell is slick and narrow and labyrinthine. Be not lured onto a false path, of which there are many, or impale oneself on the thorns of doubt. But take heart; if ye succeed in amending thy wicked words, the Angels shall sing praises, for ye will possess at last thy quest's Holy Grail.

So spoke the God of Creation about this cheery little backwater I like to call "the Devil's Intestines." Here's where the shit separates.

From the gate here, you can see that the path has narrowed quite a bit. Please watch your step; it's a little slippery. Wouldn't want anyone impaled in the Pit of Despair. (Mr. Goldman took the name from his visit here, I'm sure.) The fall isn't as far this many levels down, but the spears are still sharp. From here, the way seems fairly straight, and look, right over there is the exit. But if we edge just around the curve here, you can see the Maze.

There are only a few sure paths through the Maze of Revisions; the rest circle back in an endless loop or smack you hard against a dead end. Really, it's quite easy, though. You've got your Muse to lead--oh, damn, where did she go? Flighty little buggers are always zooming off right about now. I've heard some Muses never do turn up again, but I'm sure yours will pop by once you've stumbled on a bit. Maybe if you wave some chocolate around--I've found that helps summon them back. You do have chocolate, don't you?

What's that? You think the terrain looks familiar? So it does. This is territory you've mapped out before, you've got the manuscript right in your hands. But don't be fooled. The ground has shifted since you've last been here, and remember, we've descended into a new level of Hell. The paths to follow are not the same. You may have spent weeks laying a road of shiny, golden bricks, only to find it leads nowhere now, and you're stuck threading your way through another dark, overgrown morass. Still, you can wave to your old landmarks as you pass them by.

Even better, your characters will come visiting, like old friends. And just like old friends, they'll be full of surprises. That wholesome young thing will have turned into a slut, and your noble hero will have become a petulant whiner. Or maybe your absence has rendered them mute or they all speak gibberish now. Oh, and they can be coy when you've been gone awhile, unwilling to bare their souls to a stranger. Don't take it too hard, though--might not even be your characters you're talking to. Lots of ghosts and demons running around these parts, impersonating characters, looking to lure the unwary down the wrong path. If you know your characters well enough, shouldn't be hard to spot them fake bastards at all. 'Course if you don't know them... Yeah, I've seen plenty of people chasing down one false path after another, same story year after year.

Anyhow, I know you got a hard journey ahead of you, so I just want to say how much I admire you for attempting the trip through here. I see a lot of people come up the gate, cradling their precious manuscripts like they were made of gossamer and eggshells (ugly little things, too, at that stage), and once they see how treacherous the road here is, well, they just hightail it out, try and find the back road to the next level. Oh, sure there's a back way--mighty long drop, though, and makes travelling the next rung that much harder. Only fools and gods don't pass through Revisions. No, you go on through the gate, and when you come out the other side, that manuscript in your hands will be a thing of beauty.

And here, take this piece of chocolate. If it doesn't help get your Muse back, at least it will make you feel better.

WARNING: Baby picture included

2006-08-12T11:07:00.000-07:00

Oooh, a baby!

My brother Mik and his wife Lori produced this little creature in the wee hours of the morn. Her name is Ayeka Hayley. As the first, and possibly only, grandchild my parents will have descended from them, she promises to be well-spoiled.

The name Aeka apparently means "delicate" in Japanese. It's also the name of a character in the Tenchi Muyo anime series--the authors changed the Romanized spelling to "Ayeka" so that English readers don't massacre the pronunciation as badly. Given that, I expect her to grow into a beautiful, dainty ass-kicker.

I guess I should go find a baby-sized sword she can practice with.

Crossed Stars and Cheap Pearls

2006-08-11T16:15:00.000-07:00

My horosope for today said: "Your generous, nurturing spirit is in demand. Charge five cents for psychological advice and answers to life, and you should be a millionaire by sundown."

Woohoo, easy money, I thought. I've found my new career calling. I was all set to add a PayPal button to my site and let the nickels start pouring in. But then I noticed that PayPal's transaction fees, in addition to costing me a fraction of each nickel, would cost me an extra $.30 per transaction. So I'd end up paying a quarter and then some for every nickel I made. Even my not-so-astute business sense tells me this is not good. I guess PayPal's stars are not favorably aligned with mine.

I could charge more to offset the transaction fees but I don't think the market will bear it. You'll all have to live without my pearls of wisdom until I find another way to get my five cents for them--my spirit's not that generous.

Sympathetic Reading

2006-08-11T02:28:00.000-07:00

I was reading a scene yesterday in The Razor's Edge where a character named Gray is experiencing these debilitating headaches. Migraines. His friend Larry arrives and cures him through hypnosis and half-hinted techniques involving some combination of mysticism and psychology (same difference, some would say). A few paragraphs into reading the scene, a small pain starts at the back of my head. By the end of the chapter, the pain has grown into a full-fledged, skull-crushing headache. And no Larry in sight to cure it. Thank God for Tylenol. Still, it meant I was out of commission for most of the evening and got nada accomplished.

In my all-time favorite book, Maugham's Of Human Bondage, the main character has a club foot. Every time I read it, I end up with a shuffling limp that I have to consciously fight off. I can pretend that this all due to my heightened artistic sensitivity and my ability to become one with the character, but it's probably just a precursor to hypochondria.

I'm also one of those people who can't watch medical shows without suffering sympathy pains. Which sucks since I end up watching half of House through eyes squinted shut to avoid potential lancing pains through my vital organs. (Not that it's mattered much recently. I missed so many episodes of this past season, I decided to just wait for the DVDs.)

Where this gets really bizarre is when I watch The Disorderly Orderly; Jerry Lewis plays an aspiring doctor who has a sympathy-pain disorder. I end up with sympathy pains for his patients and sympathy pains for his sympathy pains all at the same time--from a Jerry Lewis comedy. Oh, and sympathy pains from any "accidents" and "injuries" that occur, which given that this is slapstick... I can't watch the Three Stooges either. And no, it doesn't help that I know it's all fake. If it looks real, I hurt. Takes the fun out of a lot of comedy.

For some reason, stories about knee injuries are the worst; I hear one of those, I'll be hobbling around for a week. I don't know what that's about. Knees.

Note to self: Writing about headaches and knee pain is as bad as reading about them. Please stop.

What I'm reading: I don't know. Maybe I should switch to something safer, like Structure and Interpretation of Computer Programs or Viking!... No, those are just painful in different ways.

They came from outer space...

2006-08-09T12:31:00.000-07:00

Can I go a week without posting kitty pictures on my blog? I can not.

Actually, I don't know where these kitties came from. My brother Rik called on Thursday, the night before I was to arrive at his house for a week of cat-sitting (his two cats, Strider and Chai, and my fluffy boy Pixel), and said they had a surprise for me. He and his wife Mel had found these two babies outside, screaming from hunger, the night before. They got them cleaned up, took them to the vet, and made a nice little home for them in the back bathroom. So, I ended up with two extra charges in my care.

Rik and Mel are not keeping the kitties, since they already have two cats. (I'm sure that this is a valid, logical reason--in a reality not my own.) They posted a sign outside for anyone who might be looking for them, complete with color photograph. I swear I have been listening for knocks at the front door, although it is rather hard to hear from the room that I'm in. If no one claims them, Brad says we can take one home. Something about lease agreements and whatnot at our new apartment--again, I trust that there is logic at work here.

What with not keeping them and all, Rik and Mel did not give the kitties names. I see absolutely no logic in this. (Name that quote: "Just curious. A picture popped into my mind of a pump without a handle.") In my post-Clarion, SF-saturated state, I have dubbed them Hugo and Nebula. I wish I could take them both home.

After a few days of living with them, I'm thinking of renaming them Squeak and Squeal. I'm sure other undignified names will occur to me as the week progresses.

(OK, yes, the only reason for this post was so I could put up the photo. But aren't they cute!)

What I'm reading: The Razor's Edge, W. Somerset Maugham