Welp, it's been about two weeks. Time for an update, or something of the like. I know there aren't THAT many people who read this, and of the few that do, most if not all of you know me personally. That means, of course, that nearly everybody who reads my blog somewhat regularly already knows what I'm planning for my next fictional story foray. That being said, I still feel the need to formally announce it:
When I was still posting flash fiction pieces every week or so, I kept talking about wanting to make an "episodic story" of sorts, and that I had one in the works. Well the one I had in the works was kinda crap. I'm not abandoning it, but it'll probably be a while before I return to it to work out the kinks and make it presentable and not horrible. I'm okay with this because I've been working on a different episodic story thing for the past week or two that I think might actually have promise, and so, apparently does my "test audience." Unfortunately for me, my test audience probably constitutes about ninety percent of my readership, so most of you have already read the first episode. I'll probably be posting it a few days from now, and though I'm planning on posting the link to facebook I'm not expecting a huge amount of excitement because, as I've said, most of you have already read it. I do urge you to read it again, though. In order to make the second episode work, I had to change a couple things. See if you can spot them!
I feel like there was other news, but I can't think of what it was anymore, and if I can, then it's stuff that can wait. If not, I can always make another one of these. It's not like there's a limited supply...
Tuesday, January 14, 2014
Judging a book by its cover is not always a bad thing. I came to this conclusion one day in college when I and a few friends (including my then future/current fiancée, Jess) were at a local comic book store, just being huge nerds. This particular comic book store had three or four racks near the back which contained not-comic books of the fantasy and sci-fi variety, which was fortunate because the only comic book I’ve ever really collected is “Lenore,” and I’m not sure if that one’s still being made. Also, I’m an avid reader of sci-fi, so that’s another reason it was fortunate that this rack existed. At the time, I was really jonesing on all the classic sci-fi authors with a zealousness that makes me quiver in embarrassment every time I think about it now. I would go through the rack looking for Azimov or Heinlein or Bradbury and just dismiss everything else. It wasn’t even that big a rack, and while there were one or two books there by my chosen authors, it was slim pickings. We had been to the store several times, and I always did this. On the occasion of which I speak, I was engrossed in my normal activities, searching fruitlessly for one of my familiar names and silently criticizing all the other authors I’d never heard of. How could they be worth reading, I thought, when I’d never even heard of them before?
That was the defining moment where I literally stopped moving and said out loud, “Oh God… I’m an idiot!” I realized at that moment that there was something very wrong with my thought process. I couldn’t say anything against these authors with a clean conscience as soon as I realized that, God willing, that would be me someday. I’d be that author that nobody had heard of, and would they think the same thing of me? Would they pass up my book for a shiny copy of Bradbury’s Martian Chronicles? As much as I love Bradbury’s work, especially Martian Chronicles, I certainly freaking hope not. The more I thought about it the more disgusted with myself I became. These authors deserved a chance and I was being a jerk. That, and the more I thought about it, did I really want to read yet another story where society is so advanced that they have interstellar travel and flying cars, yet still use magnetic tape for data storage? No, I did not. And I knew by now that if I were to pick something up by Azimov, that is exactly what I’d get.
So it was decided that I would try something new, give a different author a chance, do unto others as I would have them do unto me. But where to start? It was a small rack, but surprisingly diverse, and there was so much there that was undiscovered that it was quite a bit overwhelming. So I did what I had to do, and I judged a book by its cover. I pulled out a book and looked at it. It was bright and colorful and kinda trippy. I turned it over and read the synopsis. Sounded reasonably interesting. I looked at the title, and promptly mispronounced it several times. In fact, I’m still not sure how you’re supposed to say it. It was called Technogenesis (Techno genesis? TechnogenEEsus? I don’t know) and it was by a lady named Syne Mitchell. “Well I guess this one looks cool,” I said, and I bought it. I took it home and started reading.
I’m not going to say it’s the best book I’ve ever read, but that’s mostly because my Dad had me read Stranger in a Strange Land in high school, and I DARE you to find a better book than that. I will say this, though: Technogenesis, however the heck you pronounce it, should be required reading for, like, everybody, I’m not even kidding. It came out in 2002, and that’s twelve years ago, but it is still very relevant and profound and eye-opening, and on top of that it’s a really good story. I don’t want to give anything away, but you should read it. Seriously, go buy it now, they’ve got used copies on Amazon for one cent.
So anyway, that’s what happened when I started judging books by their cover. Or, at least, when I started judging them mercifully by their cover. I guess that’s the defining element right there. It’s okay to judge a book by its cover as long as your judgement is something along the lines of “I’ll bet this is a pretty good book, judging by its cover.” Unfortunately I don’t think that’s ever going to make it to proverb status, but just remember that regardless of a book’s covering, its contents just might blow your little mind, like Technogenesis did with me.
Which, I guess is what most people mean when they say “Don’t judge a book by its cover.”
Wednesday, January 8, 2014
This one happened back in October of 2013, two days before Halloween. I was going to post it a few days afterward, but as I was writing the post up I got a call from my Very Good Friend, who said that according to his girlfriend’s brother (who lives downstairs from us) some creepy Mexican guy in a “blinged out truck,” and equipped with a “knife” had come looking for me earlier in the day. After a ton of confusion, worried phone calls, locking the door and loading the shotgun, we concluded that this fellow was probably either looking for the person who lived here before me (he never actually said my name), or that he got the wrong house, the knife he allegedly drew on our downstairs neighbor was probably just a cell phone, and the only thing connecting me with him was that I came home a few minutes after the incident and I was talking to somebody on the phone (which was “too much of a coincidence” for our downstairs neighbor). So now apparently the stoner who lives downstairs from us is convinced that I’m involved with a gang or something. Long story short, I lost my writing thunder that night and just haven’t gotten around to finishing this post. UNTIL NOW!
Our most recent AmVets trip had a few more photo opportunities than the last, which oddly enough had nothing to do with the fact that Anna was looking for Halloween costume elements. I decided to start off the evening with some food porn. Anna had a punch card for pizza slices at Jitters Café and wanted to put it to use. Needless to say, the stuff was delicious. Anna had buffalo chicken and I had spinach and ricotta.
After that, we went to the thrift store. After some quick poking around in the clothing sections, we went straight to the appliances and knick knacks. The centrifuge was gone, regrettably, and I can’t help but wonder who decided they needed it. Anna found the first interesting bit, exclaiming “Oh what a cute little girl, with her black… eyes… and white pupils…”
We moved on and found another somethingorother that was difficult to figure out until we looked at the label:
After that Anna took a smoke break.
Here’s where the fun started. The figurines this time around were just full of opportunities. Anna kicked things off by putting this ginger flower boy in an “I need an adult!” situation with Nurse Minnie Mouse. I added the scandalized kid with absurd hat because why not.
This one was a little perplexing. At first glance I thought that the horse was being depicted trampling another horse. I told Anna this, and she responded with “Wait, it isn’t?” So apparently I’m not bad at interpreting these things, it just really looks like that horse is stomping the ever-loving snot out of another horse. Anna has been making sculptures for most of her life and has gotten really freaking good at it, so her eyes can normally be trusted to tell what’s what. Which is actually why I showed her this and asked her if she too saw a man with a mustache.
Another one we found perplexing was this representation of Noah’s Ark.
Now for some one-liners: