Dream Diary - On Recycling

I sleep like the dead. I seriously do.  Put me horizontal and I'm out. I also dream.  A lot.  Thankfully (I think), I also often remember my dreams. For a few hours, anyway.

And now, lucky folks, I've decided to share the ones that are really fun, before their thread releases their hold on my mind.  I'm also including a moral, because I'm a fan of 80s cartoons and believe any storyline is enhanced by a (sometimes not-so-obvious) moral lesson.

Last Night's Dream

I'm in bed, and I wake up.  My fluffy kitten, Pamplo, is now a brown tabby. An ugly brown tabby (and tabbies are my fave, so it was really ugly for me to say that. Dream that. Whatever.)

I call Roomy.

She looks at Pamplo and nods wisely.

Roomy: "You know what happened, right?"

Me: "The neighbours thought Pamplo was cute and swapped him out for this ugly cat?" 

Roomy: "No.  It's environmental conditions."

Then I was sad that my cat was going to stay ugly and I couldn't go all vigilante justice.

...that's it. That whole dream. So, if your cute cat turns ugly, it's environmental conditions, people.

Moral of the Dream
Recycle. And blame your neighbours for the incomprehensible in your life.

Pamplo, on the burden of cuteness.

My August in Pictures

I've been quiet in August.  That's because I was... everywhere!

 



The first weekend was spent with my bestest buddies, aka family, in a little hamlet near Windsor.  We laughed, we cried, we ate ice cream. A perfect time.

The reason we headed to this little hamlet on this weekend, ice cream and BFFs aside, was to see some 1812 festivities.  This is part of the Military History Parade.  I believe the ice cream cones were victorious. The ice cream is always victorious.

A great battle was reinacted on the Detroit River. Well, it wasn't that great, but it was funny.  Two canoes circled the tall ship and it surrendered after one shot and a speech whisked away by winds.  I'm sure it was heroic. One canoe was then hitched to the boat and they boarded, while the other one circled, struggling with strong tides and winds.  Once conquered, the American flag came down from the mast and was replaced by the Windsor Star flag.  All hail printed news!

The following weekend was a Kymeras' retreat at a cottage.  Kathryn Hunt pointed the way.

A poet by the water, thinking poetic things. Or that he's hungry. Difficult to tell.

There was a playground near our cottage and we rocked it.  We spun, we slid, we felt barfy.  It was awesome.

And we're totally getting the band back together again.

 

 

 In a more somber moment, Roomy and I said good bye to the mighty and beloved Cosmo Kitty, Mighty Cow Cat, People Eater of the North, Purring Factory of Doom. We were there until the end.  The sounds of grieving filled our house, and then we had to leave for Fan Expo in Toronto.  Not the easiest shift I've ever had to do in my life.

 

 

Fan Expo was lots of fun.  Loads of people. This was my neighbour.

Saw lots of friends and sold lots of books.  And bought geek t-shirts.

 

Fan Expo demonstrated that although the Sand People are not actually easily startled, they do come back in greater numbers.

 

 

Next weekend, off to Chicago for WorldCon. Chicago has a giant mercurial drop that absorbs all that it reflects.  They call it a piece of art. I call it devious.

 

I ate a salt and vinegar grasshopper to get a free book.  I washed the sucker away with wiskey. Little legs got stuck in my teeth.  Photo courtesy of David G. Hartwell, whose children goaded me on (they're fans of insects).

Amidst all of the insanity, a book was being written.  It's due soon, so next weekend is a writing retreat with my critique group, the East Block Irregulars.  Here I am with fellow members Hayden Trenholm and Derek Künsken, enjoying a drink at WorldCon's ChiZine party (always a con hit for me)!

So that's why I've been silent.  But I'm back now, and writing furiously to get the third Destiny book done.  I'll keep you guys updated and share more adventures from August. There was much more silliness than this! And maybe even a profound moment or two. Maybe.

When the Villain Comes Home

Gabrielle Harbowy and Ed Greenwood just released another super cool anthology with Dragon Moon Press:

Last year, they released the award-nominated anthology, When the Hero Comes Home, which included my short story, The Legend of Gluck.  This new anthology features another one of my stories, Happily Ever After. I'm super proud of this story.  It takes personality disorders to a whole other level.  When Gabrielle's lovely assistant read it, she said that she liked it, but that I probably should get therapy.  It's one of the sweetest things anyone's ever said about my writing.

I've had the chance to read most of the anthology and, like its predecessor, it's impressive and showcases some bestselling authors and some new voices. I highly recommend it!

Find it here, and it'll pop up other places soon, I'm sure!

Reaching The End

The final instalment of the Destiny series, currently entitled Destiny's Whatever (title will more than likely change), is well on its way.  I'm having fun, getting to the depths of various mysteries, while letting my characters have some fun and blow stuff up.

This is the second time I reach the third book in a series (I like three - it's a nice, clean number. Must be my failed catholic upbringing).  When I wrote Sorceress of Shadows, the final volume in my Heirs of a Broken Land series, I very much had the same experience I do now.

The first book is all about discovery. Discovering your world, your characters, your intrigues... It's a wild ride not to be taken lightly.

The second book, I find, is the highest pressure book. You don't want your series to slack off in the middle, so you have to keep things tense. The story can't just be filler.  It has to have a reason and purpose for being, while leaving the readers wanting book 3.  

The last book, however, is a whole other beast. This is probably your characters' final curtsy.  This is your last chance to visit those hauntings, to give them the moments they've been waiting for (or not), and to let them breathe their last.  Oh, I mean, they might live beyond the third book, but  it'll be off page. A whole other experience.

The final book has to live beyond the pages in your readers' imaginations. It has to be a satisfying ending for them, too - the readers stuck with you this long, after all!  And it has to remain true to the story, no matter how much you might want to end on a high note with sparkling unicorns and caffeinated rainbows.  That's rarely the way to go (thankfully).

I'm reading a trilogy right now and I'm on book 3, the final book (at least so far).  I whipped through books 2 and most of 3 in a few days, regardless of their impressive girth. But I'm slowing down, with less than 200 pages to go.  I'm not sure why I slowed down, but I suspect that, at this point, I'm a bit scared. A few events in the last book made me feel like the author was doing this because it was her last chance to make the characters do something, even if it no longer fit the story.  I might be wrong - I haven't finished the story, after all, but it was enough to make me worry.

I might also have slowed down because I know I only have a few pages left with these characters, and after investing so much into them, I'll miss them when they're gone.

I'm keeping all of this in mind as I write my own final book.  I want it to answer questions while coming up with plausible resolutions for issues plaguing my characters, some since Destiny's Blood.  It's a bit hard watching my characters take their final curtsy, too. I mean, it's hard letting go of characters from books you've read, but it's a lot harder letting go of ones you're writing.

The book is due this Thanksgiving at Dragon Moon Press, and I still have a lot of work to do.  August is full of cons and outings, but I'm still confident I can get 'er done.  I'll keep you up to date!

Onward to The End we go!  

Pepsi Hummus Recipe

Part of me thinks this recipe should be hidden in a vault or warehouse somewhere, Indiana Jones style, but so many of you have asked for it that I cannot refuse. I deny all responsibility for any dire, world-changing or just downright embarrassing consequences that may haunt you for the rest of your life should you choose to make this recipe.


Pepsi Hummus Recipe

It is always preferable to make this recipe while paying little attention.  Add your own touch by not even looking at the ingredients you're using while retelling your Roomy a quite frankly exaggerated tale of your latest caper.

1 can of chick peas (rinsed and cleaned - the chick peas only, not the can. Don't be that absent-minded)
1 garlic clove (crushed)
3 tablespoons of tahini
juice of half a lemon (existing paper cuts bring extra distraction during this step)
1 tablespoon olive oil
1 unspecified amount of Pepsi

Mix all ingredients using a handheld mixer.  Add water if too thick.  Once you've added the Pepsi, stare in shock and horror.  Be amazed at the consistency change. Be disgusted, too. Ignore discouraged groans of Roomy/housemate/significant other. Try and wrestle handheld mixer free of now super powerful mixture.  Burst out laughing.

Enjoy hummus with vegetables, some pita bread, or a laser gun if hummus begins to attack. We drank Pepsi while consuming it, in the hopes of evening out the battlefield. And remember, always remember: don't blink.

A Rotten Head for the Aurora Awards

The Aurora Awards voting period is ending on July 23.  The award allows Canadians to vote for Canadian works of science-fiction and fantasy, and I was touched and honoured to be nominated for my short story, The Legend of Gluck, from When the Hero Comes Home, edited by Gabrielle Harbowy and Ed Greenwood. 

I was so pleased that I asked Roomy to draw me a rotten head in celebration.

Nothing says parté like a worm sticking out of an eye socket!  Wait, there's something missing...

 

There we go. Matching party hats. Now we're having a party!

Okay, got slightly distracted there.  To vote in the Aurora Awards (by next Monday), just go here.

Thanks again for everything!  You make Klar (the rotten head) and I feel like we're doing something right.  I mean, aside from the polka dot party hats, which are oh-so-right.

5,000 kms and Many Ponies Later

In February, I came home to an excited Roomy who leapt up and said "Roomy!  Orlando is only a 24-hour drive away!" 

She was of course referring to the My Little Pony Fair location, but I love a roadtrip and I was in. (She's a collector, I'm an enabler. I could be an award-winning enabler, if such awards were handed out.  Heck, I drove her to Memphis, Kentucky and Rhode Island (twice!) to fairs, I made sure a door was built to her pony room so she wouldn't kill my infiltrating kittens (that was partly for me, too), I drive her to random thrift stores to go pony shopping, and I even brought her to IKEA while recovering from food poisoning to get her a new shelf, and even built it that day. See?  Master enabler. Or a sucker.  I'm cool with either.)

Oh, and I help build dioramas.  Past years have been more intricate. This year I was too busy, but we already have a plan for next year.  If it's in Chicago. If it's not in Chicago, we're doooomed. But I can live with that.

Last year, Roomy instituted a Marie Activity into each pony fair trip, partly as a treat/thank you, partly as a way to ensure that I don't lose interest. Last year it was a Lovecraft walking tour in Providence, Rhode Island, and this year it was the Kennedy Space Center.  I have to admit that I'm not even the one who thought about the space centre.  I was looking at Disney Land and Lego Land and all sorts of expensive lands, but my wee little twice-whiplashed-why-do-you-crouch-so-much neck is a ride hater since Edmonton's Mindbender made it go "crick and crook."  And they never answered my requests to rename it The Neckbender.  Oh well.

But Roomy mentioned the space centre and that was that. The rest is pictures:

We gave space ice cream to our friends as a souvenir.  Because nothing says "I'm thinking about you" better than freeze-dried dairy products.

This is me, destroying important and undoubtedly expensive machinery with my poor flying skills on mars.  I died, my whole team died, but it was a heck of a good time.

I know, I know - Danger, Will Robinson (I so love that show).  But if that thing comes out of the woodwork and starts yammering at me about danger, I'm screaming at it and running away. Because I ain't lost in no space and that'd be weird shit happening.

There's just too much awesome in this picture.

Space propaganda made us happy.

This had the Canadarm and the Hubble, so we were happily geeking over it.

That's it for the space centre.  We were there for four hours and could have enjoyed another four.  It was pure awesome.  (Plus, I got in a potential legal altercation going there, where my flight instinct kicked into full gear regardless of alarms and flashing lights and all that good stuff. But I'll see what, if anything, comes out of this before I blog on what might potentially be my poorest reaction to a life situation yet (aka dumbest moment).  My friends were bent over in two crying and laughing as I told them, so that's usually a good clue that I wasn't so bright.  But I'll tell you all about it later!)

So, anyway... then there was the fair!

Our diorama was a bit less than inspired, but still cute.  We brought Canadian winter to Florida.  We have ponies playing hockey, with cheap ass little hockey sticks made out of cardboard.  On the left, you can see a green ribbon - that's the top of the wrapping of a gingerbread house. We decided to wrap it so that we could sell it, and people's grubby little hands and sneezes wouldn't be all over it. I made the world's worst sale sign imploring people to take it so I wouldn't eat it all and gain twenty pounds and have to go pants shopping because I hate pants shopping. In retrospect, that was a poor selling technique.  We didn't sell it (see?  Very poor).  Instead, it broke out of its wrapping as I was carrying it to the car and landed on the hotel carpet on its side in an explosion of happy colours.  ...I still ate it.

The 501st was there, and they were loving it.  Yes, that's a pony/storm tropper hybrid.  It's okay to cry.

Roomy won first prize in the custom contest!  Woo!  She made a nebula pony in honour of the Kennedy Space Centre. It's super awesome.  This side show the Horsehead Nebula, and you'd swear it was airbrushed on, it's so good. But no - Roomy is all about brushes.  There's a little space shuttle with the Canadarm sticking out on her leg (we're proud of that - Canadians like to grab stuff, remember that!).  On her other side is the Cat's Eye Nebula.  I helped with nebula identification, because I love nebulae. They're made of gassy win.

Overall I had an awesome time. My new car, Lorna, did a great job getting us there and back. I can safely say she's broken in, now!  Two weeks with me and she's already needed her first oil change. 

More posts to come later on the Haunted Pony and the legal altercation.  Woo!

Life is good.