… finally going climbing again, and dragging Jennifer along

… completely in love with Dr. Horrible’s Sing-Along Blog

… giggling about this Craigslist post

… pleased with yesterday’s writing and work on our collaborative project and hoping to do more

… glad my punalua survived his Mexican adventure

Originally published at approximately 8,000 words. You can comment here or there.

There was a writer named Kij who convinced a writer named Reesa that no really, she should climb like she’d always wanted to. Then the writer named Reesa convinced a writer named Kit to give it a try:

“You should try it today,” she said.

“Maybe someday,” he said.

“Oh.” Reesa pouted.

The training was simple: “Here’s your equipment. Do this with it. Don’t do this with it, that’ll kill you. Now keep me from falling off this wall.”

After he managed to not kill the instructor, Kit and Reesa went climbing.

Kit learned climbing was exhilirating, that belaying is hard work, and that candy bars taste good after you’ve been hanging from a rock wall.

Most of all though he was surprised to learn this was something he could do — it felt natural, in fact, like he’d done it before. Why would he have assumed climbing was beyond him?

Originally published at approximately 8,000 words. You can comment here or there.

I wrote some of my post-4th street impressions in a post on Words Words Words.

I was shocked and greatly saddened to hear of George Carlin’s death. In these dark times we need our jesters more than ever, and the world is diminished by his absence from it. In his honor, allow me to just say, Shit, piss, fuck, cunt, cocksucker, motherfucker, and tits.

Originally published at approximately 8,000 words. You can comment here or there.

I’ve been up since 9am, though I ’slept’ on the plane and in the car — to the extent that counts; Steve calls it ‘quasi-sleep’. Sara, Steve’s friend, took me to a bar for food and to hang out with a bunch of her friends who hang out on Wednesday nights. It was a good time, lots of talk of books and the city and this and that. Her boyfriend Dave is a Burner and he told me of a fascinating connection between that thing in the desert and a SF grandmaster I’m very fond of. Perhaps I’ll post about it, but I think it is something you should ask me about in person.

Time to lay down, and rest for a while.

Originally published at approximately 8,000 words. You can comment here or there.

I’ve made a little post about my journey to Minneapolis over on Words Words Words. Have a look.

I’m thrilled to be here, and excited to explore Minneapolis and the upcoming convention.

It’s so green and beautiful, and the weather so gorgeous (a cool and refreshing 78 degrees at the moment) that it is hard to imagine the devastating winters they have here. I’m happy to have a break from the Texas heat and be somewhere so lovely.

Originally published at approximately 8,000 words. You can comment here or there.

I’m headed for Minneapolis in a few hours to attend the revived Fourth Street Fantasy Convention with Reesa and Steve.  I’m actually scheduled to be on two panels — Food, Fashion and Fornication and Advice From New Writers. Fourth Street is a small con almost entirely for writers (and some diehard readers) and there are many, many writers I admire attending. It promises to be an incredible experience.

I will have my computer with me and there’s access in the hotel and our room, so I will be trying to blog a little. I also plan to take a lot of notes and write them up later, as I did for Arse Elektronika 2007.

As for now, it’s time for a disco nap followed by more packing.

Originally published at approximately 8,000 words. You can comment here or there.

I’m too late for the uprising. It’s all over… the quivering undead bodies twitching all around, their brains already blown out. The air is full of the smell of gunpowder and rotting meat.  In the end, the priest and the cheerleader had turned and had to be shot, but the policeman and the football quarterback made it to the human enclave and survived.

And here I am. They are loading up the bodies in the trucks now and hauling them back to the prop department. They are knocking down the sets now. Tomorrow they’ll build a new end of the world — maybe disease or asteroids.

I hate being late to the party.

Originally published at approximately 8,000 words. You can comment here or there.

I wrote a little rant about a oft-repeated bit of nonsense over on Words Words Words.

Also you might enjoy this awesome photo of me, Reesa, Steve and Kij Johnson from the Nebula Awards.

Originally published at approximately 8,000 words. You can comment here or there.

Reesa and I have left the Slutbarn behind and, along with my punalua, moved into the new Dream Café. The house is lovely — a big old farmhouse with lots of open space, and as we move our stuff into it, a feeling of satisfaction at our presence — this house is meant to be lived in, though it is a touch haunted.  We’re working hard to establish new habits and create a space where we can all write, live, and love.

The Slutbarn was a good place to live for a while, but I have no regrets at leaving it behind — the sooner we can get the rest of our stuff out of there and return the keys, the better. It had grown too small for two, much less the three we were cramming into it (plus pets!) near the end.  A lot of bad habits and patterns of behavior accumulated in that space, and slowly we’re dropping them like a something one drops as fast as possible (INSERT CLEVER METAPHOR HERE).

Last night I stayed up late reading Old Man’s War by John Scalzi, which is the first time I’ve stayed up just to read in a while. It was a great homage to Heinlein and a fun work in its own right.

Reading made the writing itch worse, which is a good thing — though we’re not fully settled in yet, I think we’re all three of us feeling the need to begin working again.

More soon… hopefully to report on writing progress. I have a novel to finish and stories to write.

Originally published at approximately 8,000 words. You can comment here or there.

This Flipside was one of the most personally difficult for me yet, but at the same time I am moved and amazed by what a powerful experience it was — one which in retrospect was incredibly positive; I think even the parts in which I was miserable will teach me a lot. And socially, communally, spiritually it was a powerful event, with an effigy (and Burn) the likes of which has not been seen since the days of our great departed Monkey God.

Some specific thanks:

Thanks to all the Rangers, Greeters, others who not only keep this
event from falling apart but made it so glorious.
Everyone who built the effigy — best since Hanuman!
The firemen for not just keeping us safe but putting on such a good
show at the same time
Everyone who came by Eposia’s Crosstime Saloon and our dedicated campmates
The many many virgins I met this year who seemed to really ‘get it’
Mumbleville for its chill space and even chiller people
Root Beer camp for delicious cold drinks and OMG breastmilk ice cream
Gypsy Euphoria for their neighborly ways and poetic stylings
The windsock camp at the corner of mushroom tower and the highway for
being friendly, decorated, and so gracious when a Ranger commandeered
a windsock for the burn
Wish for being so ish and leading an awesome procession (love those flags)
The pyramid-platform thingie in sound town for awesome dancing Sunday
night after the Burn
Circus Nefarious for nefariousness and Famina
The singing Tesla coils for being singing Tesla coils
Cult of the Purple Taco for tacos and sexy purplage

and all the other awesome camps and people I’m forgetting now, or
didn’t get to visit at all.

See you at Decomp!

Bonus:

Firefighters fight the effigy blaze (by IRA, this is my current desktop wallpaper)

Tesla Coils play Zelda (video)

(photo credit Eirik Ott / Wikimedia Commons)

Originally published at approximately 8,000 words. You can comment here or there.

Eposia’s Crosstime Saloon will return against the odds to Pyropolis in 2008. Eposia and the other staff of the Saloon have had a crazy year, and we’re looking forward to creating a relaxed, enjoyable chill space for us and for you to unwind in. Visit us when you are coming down from your adventures or as your night begins, or any time you want to kick back. Eposia’s is an official Drama Free Zone ™, so you can also hide here if camp politics get you down.

Once again, we’ll be serving our fruit punch and Irish coffee (also known as “God’s Blessing”) when we feel like brewing up a pot (we might even do it for you you ask
nicely). Our camp also features the famous ‘toasting’ ritual, in which you can unload your joy or your pain to an appreciative audience.

Eposia’s this year is located at #8 Naughty Avenue, at the corner of Naughty Ave and Mushroom Tower Trail.

For a map and more information, visit http://eposiacrosstime.voluptuary.org/

Originally published at approximately 8,000 words. You can comment here or there.

I’m trying to get rid of an old Mage: the Ascension-related domain I own, without letting it go to the squatters. Know anyone who will help?

Originally published at approximately 8,000 words. You can comment here or there.

Not a lot of writing the last couple days — been catwaxing as well as helping Reesa catch up with some paperwork for her business. I just wrote a little post over on Words Words Words about what I’ve been up too lately, including my latest gaming obsession.

Does anyone else who reads this play Mabinogi?

Originally published at approximately 8,000 words. You can comment here or there.

Life has left me struggling to find time and energy to write, lately.

I got my laptop back from Dell in great working order, but then I promptly managed to get it infected with some adware that neither my primitive virus checker (AVG) nor the various free antispyware programs could handle. After a couple days of struggling with it, I downloaded a trial version of Norton; this seems to have done the trick so I guess I’ll cough up the money for it when my trial period ends.

I’ve also been helping Reesa catch up with work paperwork, helped friends with their personal crisis or at least their need to relax, and been struggling with my Fibromyalgia. The weather has been fluctuating from cool to warm and back, which is always a prescripton for unpleasantness.

Today was especially draining — our fridge which has been failing for some time totally died. Dealing with building maintenance is always a drag, but today we had the added fun of arguing with them about how we’d expect them to reimburse us for lost groceries and wondering if they’d really take days to replace it as they threatened. They ended up bringing in the fridge from the empty neighboring unit, but then we had the exhausting task of unpacking and then repacking the whole fridge and freezer in a hurry. And, after sleeping, I helped Reesa at Poking You, updating the website and then manning the front during a rush of customers while she got some much needed chill time.

It pleases me though that writing work has continued, even though I’m not doing so regularly enough during busy or complicated times. While I still have to work on my discipline and routine, it is nice to know I don’t abandon my writing as easily as I did even a year ago.

In addition, I got my first unsolicited book in the mail today — a copy of Circlet Press’ new Best Fantastic Erotica. Previous books have been requested from their publisher or SF Site; this is the first time someone sought me out to send me a book, which pleases me. I am looking forward to reading it and reviewing it.

Norton just informed me my computer is still infected with a Trojan, but at least it is blocking it from acting. I still have work to do… Time to start another virus check and then wake up Reesa from her nap.

Originally published at approximately 8,000 words. You can comment here or there.

Here at the Slutbarn we spent pretty much all day today rearranging to make room for the addition of Steve, and to create a shared workspace for all three of us. We moved boxes and furniture into a storage room and then installed new furniture we’d purchased for the purpose.

Though it isn’t finished yet I’m really happy with it already. I’m looking forward to all of us spending many hours writing here. It also led me to wonder about what kind of workspace makes you creative — a question I posed in my newest post on Words Words Words.

Originally published at approximately 8,000 words. You can comment here or there.

There’s an attitude running this article that people with fibro are complaining about the same everyday aches and pains all humans experience as they age, only people with fibromyalgia aren’t able to suck it up and deal. And I have to argue with this.</p>

I got angry at a recent article in the New York Times about Fibromyalgia and took the time to rant about it on the Dream Cafe weblog, Words Words Words.

Go have a look.

Is this kind of thing cat-waxing or actual writing? I haven’t decided yet.

Originally published at approximately 8,000 words. You can comment here or there.

The last few days have been busy ones. Steve is beginning his move into the ‘Slutbarn’ (the duplex Reesa and I share) in preparation for an eventual move to a larger, shared home (to be called ‘Dreamcafe,’ as all of Steve’s houses are); he arrived yesterday from Vegas with a carful of stuff and his parrot ‘Doc.’ I’ve also been working on several wordpress related projects — setup and tweaking on Reesa’s new homepage, Yes, It Is All My Fault, and fellow Voluptuary Jennifer Evans’ new blog, Buddha’s Footprints. I’ve also been finishing the design and setup for an exciting new Dreamcafe household project which I hope to announce very soon, possibly even later tonight — watch this space!

Today I flaked on some writing goals. I had planned to get up a little early (for me, meaning early afternoon) to have a phone chat with Kiki and do some brainstorming for Honeycutt Tales. My fibromyalgia left me hurting through most of the daylight hours and so I spent them sleeping or whining about how much pain I was in. Brainstorming has been postponed and no writing got done either.

Even so, I can’t help but feel a little anxious because it has been a couple days since I put actual new words on the page. I’m getting that niggling little itch in the back of my brain that says, ‘better write!’ If I don’t, the itch gets worse and turns into full-blown irritation, irritation I’m liable to take out on my friends and loved ones, or myself. And anyway, I have (self-imposed) deadlines to make.

One issue is I didn’t redo the tickybox wall-chart we use to track our progress each week. Got to take care of that tonight. And then, some actual writing …

Or else who knows whose head I might bite off.

Originally published at approximately 8,000 words. You can comment here or there.

Many years ago when a lover of mine convinced me to sign up for an instant messenger account, I searched around for something that wasn’t taken without much success. Since nothing really significant to me was available, I picked a name almost at random out of the books of Charles de Lint, one of my favorite authors at the time. The name I picked was ‘Jeck Crow’, an inhabitant of a dream world who is another character’s boyfriend when she sleeps.

While I still respect de Lint’s talents, I read a good deal less of his work these days and, recently, the name ‘Jeck Crow’ has seemed increasingly alien to me. It feels especially so whenever some new virtual acquaintance asks me where the name comes from and I have to tell this story again.

After experimenting with the handle on Civ4 Online, I’ve decided to adopt the persona of one of the main characters of the Honeycutt Tales. You can now reach me on AIM and Yahoo! Instant Messengers as CasparLocke. Caspar is the handsome, ethically challenged commanding officer of Caprice, the starship where most of the action in the novel takes place.

It’s not that my own personality is so much like his, but more a way of acknowledging how much of a voice these characters have in my head, of honoring how much of my psychic space they take up. Knee-deep in this novel, I spend much more time inside Caspar’s brain than I ever did inside of Jeck’s.

Since I use Pidgin anyway, I will be leaving my old identities logged in and still accepting IMs to either name but I encourage my friends to message me as CasparLocke (on Yahoo & AIM) instead.

Originally published at approximately 8,000 words. You can comment here or there.

"Living seems to be a process of continually being born again. I suppose the trick is to learn how to make that crucial exit without suffering the trauma each time." --James Blish, The Triumph of Time (Cities in Flight series)

"Misery is a heart that can never be content with what it has and, by always craving something more, brings about its own destruction. And desolation is a heart so fearful of losing what it hoards that it never knows the richness that comes from being able to give." --Anne Bishop, "Rapunzel", Black Swan, White Raven

"Yesterday, my son James up in Newark calls and says, 'Hey Dad, old Mrs. Grady died; I thought you would like to know.'

"'That's a shame,' I say. Old Mrs. Grady. Course, I don't think of her that way; I see her eighteen years old with her blouse unbuttoned and her mouth half open. There's only two women I ever loved and I married the other one. Old Mrs. Grady's true name was Helen. Helen Oakley, and I think 'Helen's dead,' but nothing happens. She's still glowing like neon in my mind and dead or alive that's where I keep her. I haven't seen her in thirty years, and it's when I'm dead that it will leak out, all go in a rush like dishwater down a drain.

"Think about it. We are a lot of containers for each other. We should be careful." --William Browning Spencer, Resume With Monsters