Book dreams
A while back on her Facebook, Wendy Pini said that Walt Disney had tapped into the archetype of a castle as "safety, home, well-being" (paraphrasing there) when he came up with the castle logo for his company. For me, in my dreams, the archetype of "safety, home, well-being" are bookstores.

I've had bookstores show up in my dreams for so long --as havens during those being-chased dreams, as goals in those wandering-around-doing-nothing dreams, as command centers during invasions -- that my mind has started to reuse some of them. If, in a dream, I'm heading to a book store, I can tell which one it, simply by the direction I'm heading.

Southwest? It's the book store that's in the huge basement of a house, and is bigger inside than out. The shelves seem to go on forever, and there's a good chance I'll spot titles I've read but no longer own at some point. I've also seen books by authors I know --but the books with their names on them don't exist.

North? It's the book store that's also a headshop with an old schoolyard merry-go-round on the roof. The headshop sells drugs that don't exist. The books are mostly romance and Firefox how-to guides.

Southeast? It's the book store that's conglomeration of local comic book shops and gaming stores -- all now closed -- that's the only place of business in a huge strip mall.

Northeast? The giant used bookstore that takes up part of a Montgomery Ward building, and is (in my dreams) literally right off the Fischer Freeway. The Montgomery Ward store will sometimes have other stuff for sale. I was chased by a Singing Mimi once, into the line at the K-mart-style candy counter.

Books still show up in my dreams at times, even if these book stores aren't in them. A few days ago I went to a yard sale, and was poking along the tables, when the man running it smiled at me and pointed to a cupboard at the back of the garage. "Books are in there," he said. I opened it, and there's a ton of children's Christmas books, fiction and non-fiction. I don't recognize any of them, and start to look through the other shelves. More books about Christmas, except for one.

C. J. Cherryh's Cyteen.

Illustrated by Phil Foglio.

I woke up at that point.

Hail Justice Kennedy

(no subject)
Something I wrote for my Type A personality candy-making warlock on Moon Guard server, inspired by a tag broadcast that shows up as the final sentences. In honor of Ann Leckie's Peeps posts.


"What're these?"

Domme opened her eyes with great reluctance. The day's first rush of customers had hit before she had her morning coffee, and she still wasn't fully awake yet. She'd wanted to rest her eyes before restocking while the coffee brewed.

No such luck.

The speaker was a man in dark robes -- more precisely, he was one of the warlocks who sometimes hung around Silvermoon. Every time Domme had seen he'd been obnoxious, loud, and self-important (which, to her mind, let him fit right in with most of Silvermoon's warlocks.) He pointed at a particular sample tray on Heartjoy's counter.

"An experiment," Domme said. Vanilla marshmallow bodies rolled in colored and flavored sugars. "They're arrakoa." Too many run-ins with Outland's bird-men had led Domme to her own particular kind of vengeance.

The warlock snorted. "Look more like chicks to me. Baby chickens, not girls. You know.. peep-peep-peep?"

Domme waved her hand, conceding the point. She hadn't been able to shape the body or the head right, and knew it. "Whatever. Can I help you?"

"Nah. Just bored." The warlock grinned and grabbed three of the samples. "I'll take these peeps off your hands."

"Have a nice day," Domme said in glacial tones as he walked out the door, laughing.


He meant to toss them in the trash. On impulse, he bit off the head of the pink one.

Chewy. Sweet. Obnoxiously sweet. Strawberry-flavored with a touch of chocolate -- the eyes,probably. Not bad. Should probably toss it out, anyway.

Instead, the rest of the 'peep' found its way into his mouth, along with its purple (grape) and yellow (snow plum) brethren.

"Ugh." His hands looked like he'd dipped them wet into a sugar bowl. He went to wash his hands.. and rinse out his mouth. Way too sweet.


"So, got anymore of those peeps?"

Domme stared at the warlock blankly. "Peeps?"

He made an impatient sound. "Those samples yesterday!"

"I'm trying new flavors," Domme said. "They have to sit overnight to stiffen. I'll have more tomorrow." She paused. "For sale."

"For.." The warlock sighed. "Fine. See ya."

True to his implied word, the warlock did show up the following day. And every day after that whenever Domme had a new batch ready. In fact, he was making a nuisance of himself. The new marshmallow candy hadn't caught on as well as Domme had hoped. Contrary to what the warlock thought, she couldn't spend all her time making the 'peeps' for him. Still, it was a chance for her to play with flavoring oils rendered from Outland plants, and some new colorings. She asked what he thought of each batch, and took his comments seriously enough to make notes of changes for later batches.

That was the extent of his usefulness, though. Especially when he complained about her sending a batch to the Outland kiosk instead of saving it for him.

"Look,we're trying to expand our customer base. It's only logical I test-market them there," she said during a pause in his complaint. "Besides, it was the last batch --"

"Last batch?"

"Yes. We're gearing up for the Lunar Festival. I may work on these peeps for Noblegarden, but they're not a priority. I'm sorry, but you'll just have to wait."

He stared at her. "You mean I just have to go to Shattrath."

"No, I heard back from Shattrath. Someone bought them all for some Alliance town's inn, Goldswine --"


"Yes, I think that was it." Domme managed not to smirk at his stunned look. "Have a nice day," she trilled as he stalked out the door.


Jaiden landed on the roof of the Lion's Pride Inn. Green fel-flames crackled around his hands.


RIP Terry Pratchett
 photo What_Can_The_Harvest_Hope_For.jpg

Hey, margdean....
Peysol circa 1986ish: "The body is a garment."

Shenshen, Elfquest the Final Quest#7: "...a shape is just a shape-- something to wear, like an ornament."

Wendy's been picking your brain.;)

First Leonard Nimoy
Now Bertrice Small

Not a good week.

Retconning in EQ's latest editions, or am I having a Senior Moment?
Does any Elfquest fans out there have the original series #15, or the Starblaze/Donning Book3? I'm wondering if Kureel had his FOAD spiel to the Wolfriders was changed. The panel is when the Gliders fly off from the troll ambush.

My memory says his dialogue is, **But for you, Lord Voll would live. Die with him! We are through with you!" That second sentence isn't in the recent collections, however.

My book juggling
Not physically. I'm not coordinated enough.

Right now, I'm reading Literary Women: The Great Writers by Ellen Moers and Myths and Symbols in Pagan Europe by H.R.E Davison. I've got Lynn Abbey's Daughter of the Bright Moon that I may or may not pick up when I finish either of the first two (Steles of the Sky is in the running there, too). And I'm kinda-sorta reading the original Elfquest series again.

I haven't read non-fiction in over a year. I've got quite a few on my shelves that I've never read, and some I want to reread.

Happy New Year
I hate Jimi Hencrix.

(no subject)
Been getting flu shots for years and this is the first time I've had a reaction, ever. Only a sore arm a few days after, but still.


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