Nicked from jimvanpelt. Said I could read 923 words a minute, or something like that.

Source: Staples eReader Department

Jesus H Christ in a jumped-up side car, how is my main character in The Horses of Achilles not a Mary Sue????

I have been as stressed out as a longtailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs for the past week.  Everything seemed to be coming down on my head.  So much so that I went and bought a 12 pack of Leinenkugel Summer Shandy.  Yes, you beer purists, you may well sneer.  Go ahead and drink your dark stuff.  (The only time I've ever really liked dark beer, despite my mother giving me a 6pack of Guiness for my 17th birthday, was at a place called the Flat Iron in Columbia, MO. OMG BEST DARK BEER EVER. LOVE IN A JAR, I KID YOU NOT.  Much thanks and love to intrepida and baronalejandro.) 

Where was I?

Oh, right, namby pamby beer.

Anyway.

When I was in single digits, my parents used to let me drink a concoction which they referred to as a "shandygaffer."  According to them, this was part beer, part 7-Up.  yes, I know this may make some of you throw up in your mouth a little, but as an 8 year old, I thought it was Fine Stuff.  (Wikipedia knows all.)  So the Leinenkugel Summer Shandy is just s teensy bit like that.  I find it comfroting, and soothing, and damn if I don't feel better.  I was even more stressed out than I realized.

Also, thank you Body, my period decided to show up early.  No, this is a good thing.  So things are on the okay side of the ledger right now.

Whew.

Sorry, I haven't figured out how to share effectively from Wordpress yet:

Books to Buy

So, in your opinion, what are the best post-apocalyptical scence fiction film/fiction works?  

Whew, now I can read everyone's posts on Avengers.

So my husband is happily chattering to me about looking online for Wichita escorts at backpage wichita, amused at the fee of $150 bucks. He sounded so perky about it that I said, "Honey, if I make it big, I'll buy you an escort."

He looked at me with an expression of mingled horror and amusement and said, "No, I'd rather have the money!" And admitted to a concern about buyer's remorse....

RIP MCA

I was shocked to learn that Adam Yauch died today.  If I knew he had cancer, I'd forgotten (and I kick myself about that).  The Beasties hit it big just as I got into college and the SCA, and they had a special place in my musical lumber room.  I've always enjoyed their sense of humor, their punk attitude, their bravery, and their skill.  My thoughts go out to Adam's family, to Ad-Rock and  Mike D, and all the fans and friends across the world.

Thanks, MCA.  You were a bright spot.

Adam Yauch of The Beastie Boys Dies

This is a book that I've been mad for ever since I read it...uh... maybe 24 years ago.  I'd read a review of it and another book in a copy of the SCA publication Tournaments Illuminated, in an article about the SCA in fiction.  The other book, Murder at the War, by Mary Monica Pulver I also have kicking around here somewhere--I read it maybe twice.  This is not intended to be a slam on Pulver's work, only that her mystery set at Pennsic just didn't grip me, ravish me, make me shudder with glimpses of mystery.  Beagle is one of fantasy's great stylists, and when the awen blows through him, he can sound the horns of Elfland.

The Folk of the Air doesn't specifically name the SCA, although it depicts an organization very much like it, as seen through the eyes of that romantic cynic, Joe Farrell (seen in Lila the Werewolf and  "Julie's Unicorn").  I think the medieval recreationist folks in his work are a bit like what SCA folks (including me when I was still in it) wished the SCA was really like--or at least he certainly paints them with a kind eye.  Every time I read it, I want to go do SCA things.  I want to wear the lovely gowns and dance a pavane...

As with every Beagle work I've clapped eyes on, the characters foot you like a falcon and don't let go.  Wistful, funny, sexy, enraging, bittersweet--oh, if I could write characters like Peter can, I'd be a happy woman.

Even though y'all know I don't care for urban fantasy, this is one I can unabashedly admit I love.  Not because it's urban, or fantasy, but because--for me--the mélange of elements--magic, music, motorcycles, and baskets of deep fried rabbit all work because Beagle takes it all seriously.  I don't mean he's somber and grim--I mean he takes all of these things seriously.  He's not trying to be cute, or ironic, or giving you the wink-wink nudge-nudge, "jeez; goddesses; who'd believe in those?"  He believes in his people, in his world, in his characters.

And in Sia, the black rock dancing in and out of time.

Go get your hands on a copy and read it.