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I have been cited in the Fanlore article about the AO3/Hugos debacle for both a comment on File770 and as a fic author.
Bingo! I have wank bingo!
Bingo! I have wank bingo!
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I was reminded by someone tagging me on twitter to say that my story in Death of All Things made them cry that oh, hey, Death of All Things released. This being a ZNBLLC anthology - and now SFWA-compliant market! - that I have something in.
So, you know, it is out! This is exciting!
So, you know, it is out! This is exciting!
I am ineffably tickled that one of my essays on my theology website (the "I am not a priest" rant) was apparently sufficiently impressive to someone on ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
nonfluffypagans that they made a post to say, "Can someone please help me find this essay again?"
In other news, I have managed to more or less finish dealing with the dining room -- what's left in there that needs to be dealt with is holiday decorations and empty boxes. Have also cleared out about 2/3 of the mess in the back half of the living room. The house slowly approaches actual functionality, which means I may not become completely insane in the next week. 301 books catalogued and counting up slowly. Moderately stressed about something that would be sort of not quite on my radar at all if I hadn't been expecting it to be resolved (ETA: which is almost certainly a contributing factor in my shorttemperedness, sigh). Breyer horses fit exactly between the top of a Noribo shelving unit and the ceiling of the living room.
nonfluffypagans that they made a post to say, "Can someone please help me find this essay again?"In other news, I have managed to more or less finish dealing with the dining room -- what's left in there that needs to be dealt with is holiday decorations and empty boxes. Have also cleared out about 2/3 of the mess in the back half of the living room. The house slowly approaches actual functionality, which means I may not become completely insane in the next week. 301 books catalogued and counting up slowly. Moderately stressed about something that would be sort of not quite on my radar at all if I hadn't been expecting it to be resolved (ETA: which is almost certainly a contributing factor in my shorttemperedness, sigh). Breyer horses fit exactly between the top of a Noribo shelving unit and the ceiling of the living room.
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This story takes a lot of context to tell properly; I'm going to tell it with all its context for the first time ever. It may well be frightfully dull. Some of it will be graphic.
In a way, writing this will be an offering to the Eyes of Ra for the new year: there is in here stuff that needs to die. Kheperu.
( No Pity. No Shame. No Silence. The commentary. )
That's all of it. All that I can remember right now. All as coherent as I can get it.
If I rip open the scar tissue, maybe it'll bleed out the rot, and maybe it'll heal true this time.
In a way, writing this will be an offering to the Eyes of Ra for the new year: there is in here stuff that needs to die. Kheperu.
( No Pity. No Shame. No Silence. The commentary. )
That's all of it. All that I can remember right now. All as coherent as I can get it.
If I rip open the scar tissue, maybe it'll bleed out the rot, and maybe it'll heal true this time.
This past weekend, among other things, I spent time with Aga, a friend of mine from high school.
We traded blog.journal URLs.
I finally got around to opening up hers (and modifying my front journal page so it had a link to same), and wandered around a bit.
On her friends page was a link to the blog of another high school friend. The most recent entry of which details the recent experiences of her brother. (Who I dated, briefly.)
(Who is apparently in Iraq building temporary bridges with the Army. I suppose that sort of situation gives him plenty of opportunities to accidentally set things on fire. . . .)
I dropped her an email to say hi. We'll see if that works.
We traded blog.journal URLs.
I finally got around to opening up hers (and modifying my front journal page so it had a link to same), and wandered around a bit.
On her friends page was a link to the blog of another high school friend. The most recent entry of which details the recent experiences of her brother. (Who I dated, briefly.)
(Who is apparently in Iraq building temporary bridges with the Army. I suppose that sort of situation gives him plenty of opportunities to accidentally set things on fire. . . .)
I dropped her an email to say hi. We'll see if that works.
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I just got email from my publisher about the second edition of the Red Sox Fan Handbook.
He wants to give me one of the large splits on the book. (It's a collaborative thing, with some twenty contributors.) I'm . . . wow.
Stunned bird. (Wring neck, let fall.)
I'm going to wander around and say "Wow" for a while.
Wow.
He wants to give me one of the large splits on the book. (It's a collaborative thing, with some twenty contributors.) I'm . . . wow.
Stunned bird. (Wring neck, let fall.)
I'm going to wander around and say "Wow" for a while.
Wow.
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One of my (great-?)great-grandfather's paintings is on sale on eBay. (Not sure how many greats go in there. But anyway, said, um, ancestor was one of the founders of the American Watercolor Society.)
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I was discussing pattern poetry with ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
keeps and oneironaut (and lstone some, but I think he was ignoring the literary drivel ;) ) and mentioned sestinas (which is the other form of pattern poem I know). I aimed them at my favorite sestina of mine (I write them occasionally, but I find them wicked difficult), which is actually deviant from form in a way that I happen to find elegant.
I did a google search for "sestina origin" to see if I could find out where the form comes from (according to this thing called the Poetry Parlor, sestinas are from the eleventh to thirteenth century French troubadours; pantoums, on the other hand, originate from Malaysia).
The second hit is . . . the Broken Sestina. Which is the poem I aimed them at in the first place. (The Poetry Parlor was something like tenth.)
I should try to learn a new form. . . .
keeps and oneironaut (and lstone some, but I think he was ignoring the literary drivel ;) ) and mentioned sestinas (which is the other form of pattern poem I know). I aimed them at my favorite sestina of mine (I write them occasionally, but I find them wicked difficult), which is actually deviant from form in a way that I happen to find elegant.I did a google search for "sestina origin" to see if I could find out where the form comes from (according to this thing called the Poetry Parlor, sestinas are from the eleventh to thirteenth century French troubadours; pantoums, on the other hand, originate from Malaysia).
The second hit is . . . the Broken Sestina. Which is the poem I aimed them at in the first place. (The Poetry Parlor was something like tenth.)
I should try to learn a new form. . . .
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