lydamorehouse | Entries tagged with fish

Since I'm teaching again, I'm writing about the process of writing again.

Because my Tate Hallaway blog has been dead for some time, I directed my students to check-in over there to see what I have to say about various things. Basically, I promised them a slightly more coherent version of my lectures since I've long ago come to realize that my lecture style is best described as "organic," which can drive some folks fairly insane. I have this tendency to INTEND to talk about A, B, and C, yet actually talk about A, Z, B, Q, F, and C. I promised to remove Z, Q, and F when I write up my "notes" for them. I can't entirely say I'm 100% more successful, but forcing myself to write it down does often help keep me on track.

At any rate, if you'd like to follow along, I've got two writing-related blogs up right now:

"From Idea to Story"

"Emotion as Story"

In other news, I woke up to the sound of my child barfing. Mason's stomach is giving him trouble... maybe from the very rich Indian food we had last night. Because I'm teaching, we weren't able to go out to dinner on Shawn actual birthday night (Wednesday) so we went out last night. Our favorite place lately has been "Taste of India" in Maplewood. Mason decided to be brave and tried something new. Unfortunately, it doesn't seem to have agreed with him.

Poor Mason.

The only comfort to all this is that it's cold and gray outside at the moment and if there was any GOOD day to have to spend snuggled up in bed reading and recovering, this would be it. We have a couple of errands we need to do--our taxes have been done for some time and are awaiting our signatures, so I need to go collect those soon since April 15 is looming. And I had wanted to get fish for the big tank, finally. I have successfully kept our betta alive for months now, so I'm feeling confident enough to consider trying again in the tank of doom. I've been changing the water in the unoccupied tank as though there were living fish in it (so approx. once a week), so I'm figuring that whatever evil might have been lurking in there should be well and truly diluted by now. Fingers crossed, at any rate. Plus, I was thinking of NOT getting our fish from PetCo, but a decent fishery like World of Fish.

But, that certainly doesn't _have_ to be done today. Taxes is the only necessity, like so often said.

Plus, Mason can feel good about taking advantage of his spring break. We've already done a very awesome hike through Minnehaha falls.

Mason will Read anywhere

It's been the week for books arriving in the mail. Yesterday there was another huge box on my porch. This time it contained contributor's copies of WHEDONISTAS! A CELEBRATION OF THE WORLDS OF JOSS WHEDON BY THE WOMEN WHO LOVE THEM (edited by Lynne Thomas and Deborah Standish).

rarelylynne talked me into writing an article for her, despite the fact that my non-fiction sucks even worse than my short stories. The result was "Romancing the Vampire and Other Shiny Bits" in which I try to make the case that Joss Whedon is responsible for the explosion of urban fantasy/paranormal romance in publishing in the last decade.

I'm not sure I do a very good job of it, but that shouldn't stop you from picking up the book if you have any interest in Joss Whedon, his various projects, or Whedon fandom in general. Because the other contributors are very good and include people like Emma Bull (

coffeeem), Elizabeth Bear (

matociquala), Catherynne M. Valente (

yuki_onna, and many, many more such luminaries.

WHEDONISTAS! shares a publishing date and a publisher with RESURRECTION CODE (March 15), so, you know, you could order both at once! ;-)

Speaking of books, I am venturing out of my comfort zone of SF/F to read Michael Muhammad Knight's THE TAQWACORES. THE TAQWACORES a fiction book about the Muslim punk rock scene (a real movement,) which a friend and former Immigration History Research Center collegue Todd Michney recommended to me. I'm not much for "literary" books -- and this one is touted as "The Catcher in the Rye for young Muslims," which doesn't help as CATCHER IN THE RYE is a book I bounced off HARD, despite having to read in high school and college. Actually, I would go so far as to say I *hate* CATCHER IN THE RYE. This book, however, seems pretty fascinating so far.

It is a very strange follow-up to THE LAST HAWK, though the back cover copy does promise sex....

In other news, it's Friday. We have a busy weekend coming up, though hopefully not nearly as intense as the last. I've got panels at MarsCON both Saturday and Sunday, and Mason has his swimming class, and we'd really like to hit Uncle Hugo's this weekend for a bit of light book shopping. Shawn is actually supposed to be heading off for a business trip in the next few weeks, and she's out of mystery novels. I want to see if I can find Asaro's follow-up book to LAST HAWK, if for no other reason that to satisfy my curiosity that it's just as cheesy and sexed-up as the previous one.

I also totally forgot about my fish yesterday, so the tanks needs a cleanin'. Stuff to do!

Hopefully, I'll see some of y'all at MarsCON. The rest, I'll check in with you on Monday.

...so, my signing at Uncles' went well on Saturday, at least as far as I'm concerned. Which is to say, people showed up, I wasn't alone, and a few books went out the door. Not bad all and all. (Maybe Don is less impressed with the number of books sold, but you know, given that this one is number 4, I feel good if anyone bothers to come.)

When I have more time (Mason and I are about to head off to the MN Zoo), I will have to write some true fish confessions. I bought a couple more tetra to keep the lonely one company, and it may be a tragic mistake. I killed two this morning totally by accident. I noticed they had spots and removed them right away... and then spilled the fish bowl they were in and they died on the floor before I could get them back in the cup. Sheesh.

But I do have to say that I was talking to my friend Gerriann on Friday and she told me that they got that five gallon tank from someone who kept it as a hospital tank for his Ciclids. As Shawn said, that's sort of like finding out the house you just bought in Amityville used to be the orphanage/insane asylum.

What's frustrating about this whole thing is that I bought the new tetra before we left for Indiana. And everyone was doing great until this morning. Sigh.

Anyway, Mason and I are off to enjoy this beautiful day at the "big zoo." We're going to pack a lunch and go check out the farm babies. Maybe I'll take some pictures. Speaking of which, I have a new Marvel Tarot card to show off soon. (Although I might now just be drawing for the fun of it. I'll tell you after seeing "Wolverine" all I really wanted to do was come home and draw.)

Oh, and who out there has seen the new Trek movie? Is it any good? Does it suck? Should I hire a babysitter or wait for Netflix???

Not only am I writing a lot, but the last couple of days have been... weird.

Monday was especially strange. My usual routine got interrupted by Shawn's physical. We only have one car, so, if I want to have the car during the day, it's my job to cart people around. I'm cool with that, and I brought my "homework" (aka the prequel) to the hospital, so actually that wasn't really a big distraction. But, while I was sitting there, one of Mason's classmate's father called with a favor to ask. He was going to be on TV, and the film crew was going to be arriving right about the time he was supposed to pick his daughter up. Would I do it? Of course! First of all, his daughter and Mason have had play dates before, and, not long ago, when my car wouldn't start, I asked him to do the exact same thing for me. So it was like "instant karma." Plus, entertaining this particular young lady is not difficult. This was only complicated by the fact that we were expecting someone to show up at our house at 5:30 that evening to test our drinking water (and try to sell us a filter system, but that's the next story.) Anyway, Mason and his friend played board games like "High Ho, Cherry-Oh" and the like, and I baked a few cookies (we always have some pre-made in the freezer for just such moments.) I felt like a pretty good baby-sitter, even though I probably spoiled dinner a bit.

We dropped the young lady off at her house and zipped home just in time for the saleswoman to arrive.

Okay, this needs a bit of "backstory," as we call it in the biz. Or perhaps foreshadowing. I'm doing dishes several days ago, during the big snow storm and I get bothered by two robo-calls. The first one is from Saint Paul schools telling me that school is closing early, which would matter much, much more to me, if Mason wasn't in a year-round school and, at that time, on intersession. The next call informs me that if I would like a free water test, I should leave my name and address after the tone. If I'd not just gotten an official call from Saint Paul, I wouldn't have made this mistake... but my brain just filled in "Oh, this must be a city thing, especially since it's free." I left my name and address.

Of course, it was a big, ol' sales pitch. The weirdest part is that for some hours after the saleswoman left, Shawn and I almost thought we'd nearly been scammed.

First of all, given how crazy our day had been, we almost missed the appointment. Even so, she was fifteen minutes late. She was dressed... casually, in an Indian print dressy-thing that might actually have just been a long shirt and jeans. In the middle of doing her water tests, she dropped a hand-sized water softener into our sink and broke it, and then said, "This is what I get for not being in my body." She then goes on at great length about her recent trip to India and her attempt to get more in touch with her feminine side. Looking at us, she says, "And then here you two are."

Like, what? We're lesbians from Vishnu? Or... is it the pentacles we have in the house that makes her feel like she should open up about her Goddess needs?

Not sure, but either way, it's awkward. It's like walking into a board room to give a presentation, and singling someone out to say, "So I notice you're a lesbian." I don't know. It was weird. Though, at first, it made us more inclinded to listen to her schpeil (sp?).

Except, after the frightening water tests (wow, THAT much chorline? Really?) she goes into full hard sell mode. And never stops talking. I'd been told on the phone that the whole thing was only supposed to last a half hour... she was there for two, and I would have kicked her out a whole lot sooner, except I couldn't get a word in edgewise. And even when she finally laid the whole, "So can I count on you [to buy my product]" line on me and I clearly said, "No," she still persisted. I finally had to do that thing where I stood up, in that mostly universal sign of "now you stand up, because it's time for you to go." She still didn't get it, and kept pushing her product. So, I kept repeating "no," until she was finally forced to leave. Worse, even though the estimate she gave us was supposed to be good for eighteen months, she neither left a copy of the estimate or even a business card.

If Shawn hadn't found this woman's company on-line the next day, that last part would have completely convinced me she was a fraud trying to scam us. Because Shawn and I kept saying to each other, "What kind of sales person doesn't AT LEAST leave some literature around." In all honesty, the product was something we might have considered if we had any real income, but, the way my money comes in from writing, it's difficult for us to budget, and if we were going to commit to anything we REALLY can't just sign a paper on the spot. We need to plan and think and mull.

She was all about, "I need an answer now." I was all, "You're not going to get one."

The best and most unprofesional part of the whole thing, IMHO, was when she pouted after I flatly told her she was out of luck and wasn't making a sale tonight. She huffily tossed everything into her bag and stompped out.

I hate to tell you this, lady, but throwing a tantrum isn't going to make me change my mind. I've GOT a five year old already. I'm hard to the whole "maybe if I cry, they'll give in" thing, sister.

WEIRD.

That was Monday. Tuesday, I spent much of the day recovering from crazy saleslady. I spent much of the day worrying that we'd almost been scammed. Because we decided she must either have been the most incompetent sales person ever, or a pretty good scam artist.... and I'd started leaning toward that last one the more I thought about everything that went down. Particually, she didn't seem very comfortable with the fact that, thanks to my fish, I actually had performed most of the water tests she was doing already. And when I asked her which hardness she was testing for KH or GH, she didn't know what I was talking about -- (I could tell it was KH when she started though, as it was almost the exact same kit I used.)

Also, on Tuesday, I got a ridiculous amount of writing... reformated -- is probably the most accurate word. As I've writing a million versions of the Mouse prequel before, I mostly re-keyed and changed the verb tense of several pages I'd already written. But since I worked out in the morning, I didn't really have a lot of time to hang out with you kids here on the Interwebs.

So what happened while I was away? Anything?

Gah, here we all are bleery-eyed and fuzzy-mouthed. This whole election thing seems to have worn a lot of us out... or, maybe it was all that screaming in the streets afterwards.

I'm attempting to get back to business, however. I yakked on at greater length than was necessary about writers' groups over at Wyrdsmiths. In preparation for critique group tonight, I printed out the latest in RESURRECTION CODE. Today, however, is my day to be Tate, so I'll be working on her HONEYMOON OF THE DEAD and yet-another-vaguely-secretive proposal. Man, I tell you, if everything I've been proposing lately gets greenlighted I'm going to be a seriously busy writer in the next few years.

Speaking of being Tate, I'm feeling kind of dissed by the SFWA Bulletin, which is dumb and deeply diva of me. Thing is, they ran a whole article about urban fantasy/paranormal romances and they made this huge list of all the authors writing it and... yep, they totally blanked me. I'm a member of SFWA. My editor is foremost an SF/F publisher. My agent has HUGE contingent of SF/F authors. I routinely show up in places like SF Signal and SF Novelists. You'd think they would have at least put me on the grand list of people writing in this genre.

*sigh*

Ah well, the life of a diva is a difficult one. Forever imagining slights and then taking them personally for days on end. It's a lot of work. Deeply tiring.

In other news, I need to find time today or tomorrow to get out to PetSmart. My tetra are in need of a water softening pillow. No, I'm not kidding. Why would I joke about a thing like tha? Seriously, my little darlings need their water very, very soft and Saint Paul's water tastes like tin for a reason. Plus, the kitties need more kitty litter (what, again!?) And I dunno, I should probably leave the house once today or I might have to come up with more conspiracy theories about why I'm despised by the SF/F community.

Hey, and I noticed that Uncle Edgars just friended me. Looks they have a LJ! Hooray!

Despite its fancy terrarium, the slug has passed into the happy sliming grounds.

Mason was pretty crushed. He refused to gucci, gucci with me, and talked about how he wanted everyone to "just die." Mason struggles with appropriate expressions of sadness. I'm not quite sure how or when it started, but instead of crying, he'll get mad and want to kick and hit and tell everyone and everything to go away or die or other gruesome expressions of violence (ala poke your eye with a needle). It's frustrating for me, because, well, misery loves company and I just wanted to be sad about dear "Mr. Slug" for a while, but instead I had to deal with him wanting to hit me.

Even though I don't like how he talks about it, I understand anger as a response. I mean, it's unfair. We had such fun finding the slug, bringing it home, and building it a nice house -- only to have it die a few days later. It makes me mad, too. I don't know why it died, either. The terrarium wasn't heated, but neither is the outdoors where we found it. We kept it pretty moist in there, though the heating lamp might have made it too dry at some point when we weren't watching. Perhaps Mr. Slug was just headed for the great sliming grounds when we found him.

We've been cheering ourselves up by trying to imainge what else might like living in the terrarium. Mason, of course, instantly asked for an Emperor scorpion. Both mom and I had to explain that dangerous pets are just not an option until he's at least a teenager. (Scorpions are a leading cause of death in children under 5 in Mexico, I read once.) Mason looked perplexed and tried again, "How about just a tiny dangerous pet?"

Mom is adovacting for a cricket. I'd like a lizard. Mason wants a hamster.

But for every death, there is rebirth. The day we gucci'ed Mr. Slug, I discovered a Malaysian trumpet snail in Johnny/Giant-Girl's tank. We'd had an entire colony of these things living there in the days of the plague, and since I'd dumped the gravel and whatnot, I figured they were all gone. The only thing I can figure is that this guy somehow was an egg or in hiberation on the pagoda feature and despite a long drying in the sun, it survived. I'd be worried about re-infection, but I'm pretty convinced the snails aren't carriers of whatever it was the took out the tetra, etc., although they could be. We'll have to watch and see.

I'm not sure what we'll get, but the terrarium won't stand empty for too long.

Petsmart is really weird.

Mason and I went there on Friday because the big thirty gallon tank is still stinky and the ammonia levels keep spiking and when I tested the nitrite levels I got a zero reading (it’s like that thing never conditioned). So, I thought, “Maybe something is killing the good bacteria.” There’s a lot of brown algae in the tank, but my books all say that’s natural. My other thought was that maybe the good bacteria that I was putting in (you can buy bottles of pre-mixed stuff) was somehow corrupt or rotten. I decided to buy a new bunch of bacteria. We also ended up switching the filter to the one that came with the tank, but that’s another story.

Anyway, off Mason and I went. While we were there, Mason talked me into getting a bunch (15) of new shrimp. We decided Joe and Fergus could eat the lion’s share and the rest could go to Bob and Johnny/Giant Girl (the beta). But, if some survived… awesome, you know?

The weird part is that when the woman who assisted us in getting the shrimp accidentally got a white cloud danio into the bag she said, “Oops, well, I guess you get a fish. No charge.” I thought, “Um, shouldn’t you be more worried if I have tank for the fish?” I mean, did it need heat? What pH? Before we left I checked and was stunned to discover that the danio could stand coldwater (65 – 72 degrees F), which would make him an ideal tank mate for Bob[2]. Thus, along with five shrimp, I dumped in the danio, which Mason has promptly named “Kenya.” Kenya, though tiny, seems to be enjoying her new home. Like tetra, danio are community fish that like to live in schools of seven or more, but, given the disaster that followed getting companions for Piranha (goddess rest his soul)… I think Kenya can just cope with being separated from the herd. Besides, she’s got Bob[2], who is certainly large enough to pass for six or seven danios.

Bob[2] ate two of the shrimp almost immediately, but is leaving the rest alone (so far – after all, the previous residents all disappeared eventually) including one that I’ve been calling “Braniac” because he has what appears to be a ginormous brain. You can actually see through the ghost/glass shrimp and watch food digest. Having spent a lot of time staring at the little bugs, I’ve pretty much figured out what’s stomach. This guy’s got a big black spot where I figure must be brain and it’s much, MUCH larger than any of his/her fellow arthropods’.

I took the remaining shrimp upstairs to give to Johnny/Giant Girl. The instant I scooped them in, Johnny/Giant Girl pounced! It was amazing. Given how tiny his mouth is, he just slurped them in like a string of spaghetti. He’s left three of them also. They have a better chance at survival, I think, if only because, from what I’ve read betas are surface feeders. Plus, I accidentally broke the light (don’t ask. Okay, I just put it somewhere stupid and it fell with a snap, crackle and pop), so the shrimp have the advantage of the cover of darkness.

After breaking the light, however, I watched as Johnny/Giant Girl’s tank temperature began to plummet. I had to replace the under-the-gravel wimpy heater with the one that’s actually meant for our thirty gallon tank. I spent several anxious hours checking to see if I was accidentally cooking Johnny/Giant Girl with the powerful new heater, but the temp has remained a steady 81 F since I set it (this heater can actually be adjusted, which is kind of nice. The other one only raised the temperature a couple of degrees above room temperature, and it tended to fluctuate a lot since it was so small.)

I’ve been having fun using a flashlight to scare the shrimp, however. Bad Lyda, no biscuit. Still, it’s kind of hilarious to watch them scatter from the light. Plus, Johnny/Giant Girl gets a menacing look in his bulldog eyes and starts to head for them like a shot.

The downstairs tank seems to be doing better. I got a high ammonia reading on Saturday, but I also found traces of nitrite, so I’m hopeful. It smelled a bit rancid (not like rotten eggs, more like pee) tonight when I fed them, and I’m planning on checking again in the morning. At least I’m used to changing their water often, so that’s not such a big deal… although I’ve been doing seven gallons at a time (almost thirty percent) and that’s a lot of water to deal with. Still, we’ve had Joe since the first day, and I’d really, really, really like him to continue to survive.

In other news, I'm still deeply addicted to comicbooks. We went shopping for Mason's school supplies and I ended up picking up (for myself!) THE AMAZING SPIDER-MAN (New Avengers) Vol. 10. This series was written by Babylon 5's very own J. Michael Straczynski, and I have to say, it's awesome. I continue to love how writers deal with Captain America, in particular the fact that Steve Rogers was a soldier in WWII who was frozen in an iceberg for decades and revived sometime in the late nineteen seventies. There's an awesome scene in which Peter Parker, MJ, and Aunt Mae are temporarily being housed in Stark Tower because their Brooklyn house burned to the ground. All the New Avengers are standing there in costume, and, of course, Captain America is the first to take his mask off and introduce himself and make nice (particularily to Aunt Mae). Aunt Mae is awed because, well, her husband once saw Captain America (THIS Captain America, Steve Rogers) give a speech in the trenchs. Wolverine turns to Spider-Man and says, "Looks like old red, white and bloomers found himself a groupie" and Peter says, "Makes sense... their both from the same generation, right?"

Right.

I also, in my Captian America obsession, picked up two Captain America graphic novel collections: CAPTAIN AMERICA -WINTER SOLDIER and CAPTAIN AMERICA - RED MENACE. In that series I was particularly struck by how the writer (let me fetch it from the bathroom....Ed Brubaker) manages to make Cap's long time ~~companion~~ "side-kick" Bucky actually kind of sexy. Not sexy in a pedophile way, but sexy in a twenty-something assassin for America, who in Cap's own words, "did things I couldn't. I was the icon. I wore the flag... but while I gave speeches to troops in the trenches, he was doing what he'd been trained to do..." (the picture shows Bucky slitting the throat of a NAZI) "And he was highly trained." Omnious, and, well, kinda sexy.

God help me.

Oh, and last night? I was Spider-Man.

Romancing the Dead keeps kicking my butt. I whined about it over at wyrdsmiths again.

In fish news, I'm getting anxious to move Joe and Fergus over to their new tank. Bob seems (knocking on wood) to actually be thriving. We're waiting for the features Shawn to arrive and then I think once they're in place, we'll do the big switch-a-roo. I got the old "hospital" tank up and running again. It's empty still, and will be for some time, but I kind of like the gurgles and burbbles of the water feature.

My folks made Shawn and me a new bookshelf for the bathroom at my request. Books had been piling up in there, and there's a lot of funky space in our bathroom (It's kind of octagonal) that doesn't get used. So they made a custom tall, skinny bookshelf that fits nicely right next to the "throne." Shawn and I decided that the best bathroom books would be those cheesy classics, like VILLIAGE IN THE TREETOPS and JOURNEY TO THE CENTER OF THE EARTH. At an estate sale, we found a whole bunch of skinny pocket books like the kind we were looking for, some vintage Raymond Chandler and James Bond books. I also picked up the John Carter of Mars (Burroughs) from Uncle Hugo's on Saturday because I had such a nostagla rush looking at them. I'd read all 150 or whatever of them when I was in high school. Just seeing the old covers made me remember where I was when I was reading them. Anyway, I picked up THE LAND THAT TIME FORGOT the other day and started reading it. I don't really have time for reading, what with the book that ate my brain, but I pick it up every time I'm in the potty and I've gotten pretty far. Not the book I was expecting. I'm half way through it and we're still on the submarine and there's no sign of dinosaurs.

Hurmph.

I'll write a book report on it when I finish it.

We’re home safe and sound and now I’ve had time to reflect on the con and whatnot and I thought I’d do a quick write up.

Shawn and I dropped Mason off at his grandfolks’ on Thursday night. I should mention that as we left I discovered one of the tetra plastered to the bio filter quite dead and, upon closer examination, I noticed that the entire pod developed spots overnight. I dosed the tank with PemaFix and left instructions with the house sitter to continue the meds. Even so, I figured we’d come home to a dead tank.

We left in high spirits despite all that. Shawn had wisely bought Mason a portable DVD player and we brought along all his favorites. It made the trip really smooth.

After spending the night in LaCrosse, Shawn and I headed off in the morning. Last year, my folks reported that there were a few tears of missing ima and mama, but this time on Friday morning Mason looked at me (shortly after I told him he could not have chocolate sprinkles for breakfast) and asked, “Shouldn’t you be going to Madison now?” Clever boy knows gramma’s a softie and the sooner the parents are off, the sooner the party starts.

We got to con early, but the hotel was able to get us in early. Shawn always books us in the governor’s suite and I have to admit it’s a luxury I enjoy. Chocolates on the pillow and access to the club with its continental breakfast and other goodies. I’m telling you, rich people get all the perks.

My first panel wasn’t officially a panel at all. It was the mid-career writers’ reception. Naomi Kritzer was the official facilitator, but she’d asked me to be there to keep things focused on our secret agenda, which was to have this be the shop-talk version of the mid-career writers’ gathering. It went well, but as no one really knows about this option yet, and they set it up so early in the con schedule (actually a good placement as the other one is traditionally at the end, but people wouldn’t necessarily have known to come early for it) it wasn’t extraordinarily well attended. Hopefully, as people find out about it, we’ll get a bigger turn out.

Shawn and I went out to Porta Bella for diner. We had a great time despite the fact that every time we go we’re struck by the fact even though the place has awesome ambiance, the food is startlingly mediocre. We took advantage of the darkness to make lots of googly-eyes at each other and spend some much needed grown-up time together without the kidlet.

Fade to black…

The next morning, I had “Explain Slash to Me” at the ridiculously early hour of ten a.m. Sharyn November <http://www.sharyn.org/> (editor, Firebird Press) was the moderator and that was a trip. She ran the panel with an iron fist (to be polite.) That being said, I felt it went better than panels like this has in the past, possibly _because_ Ms. November kept the audience participation to a minimum. As much as I love hearing about all the various kinds of slash out there, sometimes that’s all the panel ends up being – an evangelical “witness” session for slash… so maybe her aggressive approach to moderation worked in this instance.

After lunch break, where I got to hang out with Anne Harris and Eleanor Arnason, I moderated “Sexism: A Spotters’ Guide.” Frankly, I was dreading this and thought I might have to play the WisCon Drinking Game, wherein you take a swig of something any time someone mentions a feminist buzzword, ala. “Patriarchy.” I would have gotten lightly buzzed at this panel, but I think we ended up having an interesting discussion if only because at one point I broke and got my media fandom all over the nice feminists. I felt a little bad for Graham Sleight (SF critic, <http://www.gsleight.demon.co.uk/>), the token SNAG (sensitive New Age guy, although he was really more a SFG, sensitive feminist guy), but still. And despite my snarkiness, I actually learned some cool things about language from our resident linguist, MJ Hardman (oh, what a ironic surname that is, isn’t it?)

Speaking of which I was actually in the company of a woman whose surname appeared to be “Mankiller” at the BroadUniverse rapid-fire reading, where I read a short snippet of my new-ish messianic chick-lit (novel? Short story?) “The Second Coming of Emily.” I actually wrote a little bit more on that and am seriously thinking about turning what I have into a chapter for Wyrdsmiths. The other readers were the usual mix, which is part of the fun of the BU reading… it’s always a complete mixed bag. I fell in love with Jennifer Pelland’s (SF/F author, <http://www.jenniferpelland.com/>writing all over again when she read a little bit of what I called her, “Elephant Man story.” I begged her for the full version and I believe she said it would be out in Helix Magazine some time soon, so watch for that.

Shawn and I spent Saturday night in… wink, wink, nudge, nudge.

Sunday morning was the “Transsexuality as Trope” panel, which given that a surprising number of the panelists weren’t quite sure how we ended up on the panel went pretty well. I made, perhaps, the worse personal mistake of my life (and one that may guarantee that I will never moderate the T panel again,) when I used the wrong gender tag to refer to one of our panelist. She was very kind when I apologized profusely afterward, but I felt like, as they say in England, a “right prat.”

Despite my personal snafu, the rest of the panel went well. E. Bear and I scuffled it up a little, but the dust hardly even flew (which is too bad in a way, since, as I have said, I rather enjoy fighting with her.) The panelist I enjoyed the most was Charlie Anders (author, co-editor of Girl Geek, <http://www.charlieanders.com/>), who had some awesome ideas for stories that might include historical T characters. She sent me the links to their wikipedia page –

I’m actually doing a little thinking about this challenge, since I have never set out to try to write a T story and there really do seem to be a dearth of things out there -- good or bad. Plus, I’ve always loved a good spy story and maybe I can science fictionalize some of the bits of these people’s lives… like it might be fun to do a “send up” of the classic Amazonic “utopia” and have a trans character infiltrate that culture.

Anyway, the next panel was the BSG one and it also went well, but it was clearly one of those topics where I thought we could very easily have talked for six hours instead of one. We hardly spoke of Starbuck at all, but Jef Smith gave me the link to a great new time waster, the LJ community What_The_Frak? <http://community.livejournal.com/what_the_frak/profile> I’m totally planning on joining up (actually, I already sent in my request and am waiting for approval) and spending all my writing time yakking about BSG.

The only party I attended was the Wyrdsmiths’ on Sunday night, but I stayed up until the last swan sang at 2:00 am. I got a chance to hang out with

charliegrrl

and one of her partners, Annalee Newitz (Wired editor and much, more <http://www.techsploitation.com/>), whom I also had the pleasure of “debating” on the BSG panel. They introduced me to all of their awesome friends who I’m deeply honored liked me just as much as I liked them (or at least made me feel that way.) We spent a lot of time fondling my monkey (long story) and making up the “two a.m.” panel ideas, like, “Animals: How They Get High” and other such silliness.

I drove back home in a sleep-deprived haze, especially since my father had to unexpectedly work on Tuesday so we didn’t overnight in LaCrosse as planned. As usual, I’ve come back from WisCON anxious to write and inspired to do some good… or something like that.

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lydamorehouse

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Day in the Life of an Idiot

Journal of Lyda Morehouse

Entries tagged with fish

Writing about Writing

March Forth!

Later, Fish News for now...

Why I've Been Absent

Morning After the Morning After

The Death of a Slug (Gucci, gucci!)

Fishy Update - The Saga Continues

More Writing Woes and Other Stuff

WisCON Report