We were lame.
This year we didn't have a bunny nuke. Part of me misses it.
Monday, March 24, 2008
Fever
This morning I woke up in the middle of a dream. The dream had been going on for a while. I was at a Galaxy Press event of some sort. I think Damon Kaswell might have been there. Through the magic of dream-logic, I started singing, "Fever," by Miss Peggy Lee. Everyone started snapping their fingers, and the pre-event mingling time turned into a dance number around the hors d'oeuvre table. Then the guy the event was really supposed to be about started talking. He did an info-dump on some research he was doing.
I woke up and managed to write down the salient parts, which made much more sense in the dream than they did in recall; but it might be a good story idea. Since the idea was medical in nature, I think this dream was based in part by reading about dengue fever just before going to bed.
I woke up and managed to write down the salient parts, which made much more sense in the dream than they did in recall; but it might be a good story idea. Since the idea was medical in nature, I think this dream was based in part by reading about dengue fever just before going to bed.
Monday, March 17, 2008
Thank Goodness for Illustrator
Sigh.
Today was very gray. I think it must have helped me feel a little depressed. That and I received a particularly annoying e-mail this afternoon. So instead of writing this evening, I've been responding to irritating e-mail. OK; it's not that bad, I've been playing with Adobe Illustrator, too.
Today was very gray. I think it must have helped me feel a little depressed. That and I received a particularly annoying e-mail this afternoon. So instead of writing this evening, I've been responding to irritating e-mail. OK; it's not that bad, I've been playing with Adobe Illustrator, too.
Saturday, March 15, 2008
Disturbing Dream
In last night's dreams. . . aliens had come to Earth. I never saw them. They had decided that they were going to reduce the human population, and took their cue from horror movies, I guess. So they installed hidden machinery in walls and doors that would lock the doors to trap people in rooms and then the walls would move together. I got caught in a cafe of some sort with a bunch of other people, but I was able to stop the walls by jamming an easel leg into a crack between the wall and the floor. Rooms all over Earth became death-traps. At a later point I had my shirt or jacket caught between advancing mahogany panels surrounding an inset door.
I think I might have been too wrapped up in the covers.
I think I might have been too wrapped up in the covers.
Friday, March 14, 2008
Only in Eugene
I checked out some DVDs -- one on Nefertiti and another one on ancient Egypt -- from the Library. When I opened up the Nefertiti case, sandalwood scent wafted up out of it. I don't know what a previous patron must have done to get the plastic case to retain the scent; the DVD smells like it, too.
Yes. I was surprised when the second DVD case -- this one holding three DVDs also smelled like sandalwood (and a little bit of clove).
Don't these people know that smoke particles make it harder for the DVDs to play?
Yes. I was surprised when the second DVD case -- this one holding three DVDs also smelled like sandalwood (and a little bit of clove).
Don't these people know that smoke particles make it harder for the DVDs to play?
Wednesday, March 12, 2008
Writing News
Whew.
Finished up a 900 word entry for another writing contest. I think it works. We'll see tomorrow. It needs to be e-mailed in Friday. And now I need to sleep.
Finished up a 900 word entry for another writing contest. I think it works. We'll see tomorrow. It needs to be e-mailed in Friday. And now I need to sleep.
Cats and Dreams
We went on an overnight trip to the coast. Muriel wasn't pleased and left editorial excrement in various places.
Stupid cat.
Not much in the dream department; the other night I had an Arcosanti dream -- it was a little different; instead of being stuck there or visiting and worrying about catching my flight, I was looking at a three-part map of the place. Arcosanti is always greener and in deeper canyons than it is in real life. In my dreams, it's on the edge of a canyon, and usually there's a neighboring canyon that is filled with a lake. Anyway, this was a (dream) map of Arco and the lake and another canyon. (In real life, Arco sits on a Sonoran desert mesa near the half-underground Aqua Freya river.)
Stupid cat.
Not much in the dream department; the other night I had an Arcosanti dream -- it was a little different; instead of being stuck there or visiting and worrying about catching my flight, I was looking at a three-part map of the place. Arcosanti is always greener and in deeper canyons than it is in real life. In my dreams, it's on the edge of a canyon, and usually there's a neighboring canyon that is filled with a lake. Anyway, this was a (dream) map of Arco and the lake and another canyon. (In real life, Arco sits on a Sonoran desert mesa near the half-underground Aqua Freya river.)
Saturday, March 08, 2008
Rejections, Pagans, and Books
I got another rejection Friday. But I've managed to get two more short stories out.
In slightly related news, I decided that being the appointed chair of the local Covenant of UU Pagans for eighteen months was long enough and someone else could do it. I expect that I will have more time for writing now that I won't have to keep track of the ritual year and booking the UU Church in Eugene for events.
Not too many remembered dreams lately; I've been staying up too late and getting up too early. Naturally, I'm fighting off a cold.
As for The Book. I've got all my notes in place in a wiki, I think. Now I have to put them into a coherent whole. The wiki is good for linking ideas together, but the hypertext aspect of it makes for a disorganized document. I have had fun writing the opening chapter, which is called "The Purifications" -- I have to let it sit a while and go back to see if it was as funny as I thought it was when I first wrote it. Looking at the writers' guidelines for Weiser, Llewellyn and a few other presses was useful; everyone seems to want "practical" step-by-step books. I can do that; but the text I have so far is pretty theory heavy. Time to outline.
In slightly related news, I decided that being the appointed chair of the local Covenant of UU Pagans for eighteen months was long enough and someone else could do it. I expect that I will have more time for writing now that I won't have to keep track of the ritual year and booking the UU Church in Eugene for events.
Not too many remembered dreams lately; I've been staying up too late and getting up too early. Naturally, I'm fighting off a cold.
As for The Book. I've got all my notes in place in a wiki, I think. Now I have to put them into a coherent whole. The wiki is good for linking ideas together, but the hypertext aspect of it makes for a disorganized document. I have had fun writing the opening chapter, which is called "The Purifications" -- I have to let it sit a while and go back to see if it was as funny as I thought it was when I first wrote it. Looking at the writers' guidelines for Weiser, Llewellyn and a few other presses was useful; everyone seems to want "practical" step-by-step books. I can do that; but the text I have so far is pretty theory heavy. Time to outline.
Wednesday, March 05, 2008
Rejections are my Job
Whew. Two rejections in the last twenty-four hours; three in the last week. At least they've all been encouraging rejections from editors who would like to see more work. This Friday is a mail sending day for me.
Monday, March 03, 2008
Dreams of Chanting
I dreamt I was in Portland. I think I was living above Reed College on a wide sunny street (I have a vague notion that the dream setting was my old College Haunt). I don't remember too much except that I might have been chanting in ritual with M. H. and Shaggy and Scooby-Doo. There was a bad woman who we had managed to shrink down to fit in a basket, but somehow she tricked Scooby into chanting the wrong words and she got out of her basket, grew to giant size, and was tromping along the street.
There's a break in my recollection. I was traveling from Portland to Corvallis by flying. I had my big black and purple cloak, and I was flying by night. I remember there was some difficulty because my shoulder bag was slipping around a little. But mostly I was having fun swooping over night time skyscrapers and countryside, my cloak flapping in the wind. I had some sort of discussion with my dad about flying, but the only thing I recall is that I could fly from Portland to Corvallis in an hour.
Another break. I was flying in daylight. I think I made it to Corvallis, except the Willamette River was about five times wider than it should have been. A blue heron flew underneath me. I remember pausing at the river's edge to be sure that I could fly over the river. I set out anyway, and I made the far shore. Somehow I had lost my shoulder bag -- I was in one of those odd dream situations where a part of me knew that I was still wearing the bag, but at the same time my bag was lost.
There was a large white castle ahead, and I flew to it. I remember being struck by how white and light-filled the castle was; the passage ways were wide. I figured that I'd find my bag in the castle, so I started walking around in the corridors. I came to a plain wooden door with a little window in it. Sonorous chanting came from the other side -- it was so resonant that I felt the door vibrating as I leaned against it. As I listened to the chanting, I felt like my essence was melting into the door's, and the chanting seemed to be vibrating everything into a kind of cosmic monad.
The chanting stopped. I went through the door and into a little stone chamber. There were four or five other people there-- mostly men -- standing in a circle in the center of the room. There was a sense of otherness to them; they seemed too vibrant to be human. I explained that I was looking for my bag, (while at the same time being aware that I was still wearing it) and then we were all chanting together. They sang a kind of ground while I sang an improvised melody. The words weren't English, and it was mostly long stretches of vowels with a few voiced consonants thrown in. I was filled with a very strong holistic feeling of being here and now, and my whole body started vibrating again and then I woke up.
There's a break in my recollection. I was traveling from Portland to Corvallis by flying. I had my big black and purple cloak, and I was flying by night. I remember there was some difficulty because my shoulder bag was slipping around a little. But mostly I was having fun swooping over night time skyscrapers and countryside, my cloak flapping in the wind. I had some sort of discussion with my dad about flying, but the only thing I recall is that I could fly from Portland to Corvallis in an hour.
Another break. I was flying in daylight. I think I made it to Corvallis, except the Willamette River was about five times wider than it should have been. A blue heron flew underneath me. I remember pausing at the river's edge to be sure that I could fly over the river. I set out anyway, and I made the far shore. Somehow I had lost my shoulder bag -- I was in one of those odd dream situations where a part of me knew that I was still wearing the bag, but at the same time my bag was lost.
There was a large white castle ahead, and I flew to it. I remember being struck by how white and light-filled the castle was; the passage ways were wide. I figured that I'd find my bag in the castle, so I started walking around in the corridors. I came to a plain wooden door with a little window in it. Sonorous chanting came from the other side -- it was so resonant that I felt the door vibrating as I leaned against it. As I listened to the chanting, I felt like my essence was melting into the door's, and the chanting seemed to be vibrating everything into a kind of cosmic monad.
The chanting stopped. I went through the door and into a little stone chamber. There were four or five other people there-- mostly men -- standing in a circle in the center of the room. There was a sense of otherness to them; they seemed too vibrant to be human. I explained that I was looking for my bag, (while at the same time being aware that I was still wearing it) and then we were all chanting together. They sang a kind of ground while I sang an improvised melody. The words weren't English, and it was mostly long stretches of vowels with a few voiced consonants thrown in. I was filled with a very strong holistic feeling of being here and now, and my whole body started vibrating again and then I woke up.
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