Snail mail stuff
Last month. My brother was watching Home Shopping Network and they had a very nice Canon printer. I figured I'd never find as reasonable a price for something with that many features, so I splurged. It cost less than the ink I bought last April for my HP Deskjet 932C.

Thing is, the deskjet still has 99% of that ink. And I don't want to let it go to waste.

So...if you'd like something (letter, postcard, a short essay about the character of your choice in a fandom we share(d)) in the mail box, leave your name and address. Comments are screened.

Book stuff
Slow to update on this reading the library pursuit. Anyway. The second batch.

Nothing major here: Grimpow, The Bridesmaid, The Postcard, Saying It Outloud. Grimpow is by a Spanish author, Rafael Abalos, and is about Grimpow's quest for the philosopher's stone and the secret of the Knights Templar. The Bridesmaid was a write-for-hire; the author's name isn't in the copyright notice, the publisher's is. Postcard was a fun mystery, and Saying It Outloud. Well. There's a reason I call these types of novels aimed at adolescents "teen angst."

The third consisted of Little Men and Jo's Boys. I liked them better than I thought I would, though I doubt I'll read them again. I liked the bit in Jo's Boys with Jo warning one of them to stay away from the booze and women! In Victorian terms, of course.

A bunch of YA books in that batch, too and the new Elizabeth Hand, Hard Light. I stopped to finish that. I love Cass Neary, the antiheroine. Hand calls them "crime novels", not mysteries or detective novels. There's a reason for that. A crank addict who steals from everyone and anyone when she can.

The YA books this time around are hit and miss. Abouzeid's Anatopsis I didn't care for. I enjoyed Abrahams' Down the Rabbit Hole, Into the Dark and Reality Check. Rachel Spinelli Punched Me In The Face reminded me of a cross between Judy Blue and Norma Klein's works from the 70s'. Liked Adams' Girls Like Me more than I expected; it really has that teen angst vibe from the 70s and 80s down. The Diary of Pelly D was my first toe-dip into the library's YA dystopias. (Hunger Games doesn't count -- I bought those.)

Pardon me while I squee like a fangirl
Ruffel, Skywise, EQ, Maleen
Because, in the end, I am one.

Wendy Pini's been commenting on my posts on the EQ Fans Facebook.


Reading the Library
I've finished the first batch of books. I had planned on reading everything in strict alphabetical order, but... I can't do it. I'm still keeping to alphabetical order, but I'm jumping around to what catches my eye. I also plan to read the very thin books at the library.

Sounder, by William H. Armstrong. Dear god, what a depressing book. It's a Newberry winner. There's a joke that Newberry books have to have a child and/or a dog die. I think this one started that trend, not sure.

The Chronicles of Prydain
, by Lloyd Alexander. Why didn't I read these when I was a kid? They're wonderful! I would have eaten them up with a spoon. It may have been the "based on Welsh legends" angle. I remember being virulently against Celtic legends-inspired books at one point.

The Arkadians, also by Lloyd Alexander. Set in the part of ancient Greece called Arcadia. A lot of fun, with sly nods of the head to Greek myths and The Golden Ass. For children's books, Alexandar has a fair amount of violence and death. None of it is graphic, but it's definitely there.

The Wolves of WIlloughby Chase
and Midwinter Nightingale by Joan Aiken. More books I would have eaten up when younger. There's a book between these two, I believe. I'm not sure the library has it. I can see the campy Victorian melodrama mentioned in the blurbs, but I didn't find either of them necessarily funny.

I'm moving on to Louisa May Alcott. They have quite a few of her works.. .but I had to read an abridged version of Little Women. What a travesty!

Also grabbed four books from the Young Adult section. Should be interesting!

(no subject)
So this summer I'm starting a dream I've had since I was a kid: reading the library.

I'm starting with the juveniles (as opposed to the Young Adult section, which is separate). Although I may bounce back and forth. In alphabetical order, though part of me is tempted to begin with the letter Z, just to be different.

I have Sounder, The Chronicles of Prydain by Lloyd Alexander, The Wolves of Willoughby Chase and Midnight Nightingale by Joan Aiken. Oh, and The Arkadians by Alexander, too.

Wish me luck, eh?

(no subject)
Happy New Year.

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
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