"I am at a loss to conceive how a man should permit himself to write anything that would be truly disgraceful to a woman, or why a woman should be censured for writing anything that would be proper and becoming for a man."

30 December 2012

So here we are — the end of 2012. Whirlwind is a very applicable word for the last couple months, and yet now that there’s a few moments to breathe one looks back and tends to feel assaulted by all that has been left unaccomplished. Still, today is not the day for resolutions, nor for looking back in frustration. Today is Accomplishment Day.

So here’s to the things I did this year, including:
 - Finishing edits on book one, and submitting it to a major publisher — which includes doing our first summary, bios, and query letter
 - Spending November through now working on an individual project for the first NaNoWriMo in four years
 - Plotting out a schedule for blog posts and editing markers and actually (more or less) sticking to it
 - Creating an online presence for the series with email, tumblr, twitter, and blog
- Making progress on screenplay #2 to the point where it is neeeeearly first drafted
- Accomplishing a number of personal goals (though far from all) and thoroughly enjoying each one, not just seeing it as something I have to do.

 It may seem a short list, but it’s one chock full of months and months of hard work, email and chat conversations, and the constant necessity of balancing real life and writing life. All in all this has been a successful, progressive year for us and hopefully 2013 will push me on to bigger and better accomplishments.

Happy (Inaccurate Mayan Calculation) End of the World Year, everyone.

13 October 2012

Facegrabbing Mother

Behind on book reviews, I know. I would blame being out of town enjoying life, stressing over submission deadlines, and fighting a nasty cold... but really: Northanger Abbey is just boring. I'm reminded of why I've never made it through this book before. I'm about thirty pages in and nothing interesting has happened. Nothing. There's beautiful prose assessing society and describing characters, but NOTHING has actually HAPPENED. I hate to give up, especially on Austen, but I am damn bored with this. I am, however, going to read The Vampyre because it actually is only about thirty pages. So look for that on Tuesday.

If book reviews aren't your thing, or you're desperate to read some of my stream of consciousness ramblings, look no further than the below: my live tweeting of watching Alien last night. Just scroll all the way down to the bottom of the entry and move up (I could have figured out how to do this chronologically but right now I'm just happy technology worked with me long enough to paste all the tweets -- we have not been friends this week).

This concludes the live tweeting of . Thank you for your patience. I kind of want to rent Aliens now...
SERIOUSLY?!? Did the cat hide in the hyper sleep pod when no one was looking? 
If the cat did not just die from science, I'm having words with Ridley Scott. 
How did I never realize Ripley was singing "You Are My Lucky Star"?!?  
Sorry, Ripley, but Eddie Dean kicked ass in a gunfight naked. You have forgotten the face of your father.  
Ripley: Convenient spacesuit is convenient. It would be highly un-feminist of me to kill this bitch in my undies. 
Me: How did the strobe lights start again? Facegrabber: They follow me everywhere. Be glad dubsteb doesn't as well. 
Ripley: Sexy undies make me breathe heavily... wait... no... Facegrabber: Stowaway! Ehehehehehehe! 
Ripley: It's ok, Kitty. We safe now. Kitty: Riiiiiiiight. Ripley: I'm just gonna strip for hyper sleep. 
Ripley: Look at the pretty explosion... again... and again... and again... sleepy now. 
Ripley: Time to run! Oh... KITTY! Let's go kitty. Only one minute left!
As far as atmosphere goes, this sequence is amazing. Long dark corridors. Bursts of steam. Strobing lights. Flamethrower. Alarms.
Ripley: Damnit, five minutes left. Not enough time. Mother, help me! Mother: You killed my robo-friend. Fuck you. 
Hey Ripley, you forgot you precious kitty. The facegrabber will now try to PETA your ass. 
Ripley: Time to escape... into the facegrabber's nest. Whoops. Tom Skerritt: kill... me... Ripley: No probs. *flamethrower* 
I just likened the facegrabber to 's laugh... my universe is too diverse. 
Ripley: Buttons pushed. Dials turned. Alarms activated. Ten minutes should be plenty of time to escape. Facegrabber: ehehehehehehe 
Black guy: Woman, get away from the facegrabber! Woman: Eep! Eww! *cries* Facegrabber: I kill you both now. Me: y'all are idiots.
OK, I love animals, but risking your life & that of two other people by looking for one damn cat is STUPID. 
Ripley: I prepare shuttle for leaving. Leaving good. Wait, did I hear the kitty meow? Must investigate. 
Ripley: You two go get us provisions. I'm going to stumble over my lines here. Ignore me and do as you're fucking told. 
Ripley: How do we kill the facegrabber? Ian Holm: Science says it's impossible. Science knows all. Science is better than people. 
Ripley: Talk, robot head. Ian Holm: Sorry, my mouth is still full of milk. *splargh* 
And now Bilbo is doing his impersonation of Nearly Headless Nick: Robot Edition. 
Ripley: So, team up, hunt the bitch down, and kill it. Ian Holm: I will smother you in the name of science and facegrabbing. 
I think Mother needs to hook up with Joshua from . They could play globalthermonuclearfacegrab. 
Facegrabber: Too late! You've been facegrabbed! n
Tom Skerritt: you know what? I'm a coward. Let me out. Please. Now. 

Tom Skerritt: Sorry I've been a shit captain. Ripley, lock me in the vents w/ a flamethrower & the facegrabber to die a hero's death.
It's raining blood! Harry Dean Stanton's blood! Oh, yeah! 
Never go looking for a lost animal in the dark. Alone. Especially in a spaceship with a renegade facegrabber.  
Aww, they put the three semi-sensible people all on the same team. They need to even out the stupidity odds & kill one, apparently.

Ian Holm: look, I made a motion detector to find the facegrabber. Yay science? Everyone: emo stare. 
Thanks to , that dinner scene always reminds me of expectant parents. " is not REALLY about parenthood."
Black dude: facegrabber spawn insploded our mate! Kill it! Ian Holm: NO! SCIENCE! 
I love the cat just chill as can be in the background as everyone tries to keep John Hurt from exploding. 
Hoo boy. Here it comes. I probably should not have just eaten.
Everyone: How do you feel? John Hurt: like a facegrabbing alien shoved its seed down my throat. Can we go home? Everyone: SURE! 
Ripley: Kill the acid-spit facegrabber! Ian Holm: NO! SCIENCE! Tom Skerritt: Shut the hell up I just want to go home. 
Someone should do a horror attraction where facegrabbers jump out onto you. 
Ripley: Let's chat. Ian Holm: SCIENCE! BIOLOGY! Ripley: You let this acid-spitting facegrabber on the ship, asshole! 
Harry Dean Stanton has elected to do virtually nothing, which in these circumstances is not the worst idea. 
I think Ian Holm's MO was that he thought he'd be the only Brit on the ship & has been trying the whole time to get rid of John Hurt.
Tom Skerritt: we need to save John Hurt. Ian Holm: we need to save the facegrabber! 
So far only two people in this movie are acting rationally: Ripley and the black guy. And we haven't even gotten to the scares yet. 
Black guy: Why are we letting the facegrabber just hang out? Why don't we freeze it & John Hurt? Why didn't anyone listen to Ripley?
Ripley: If we break quarantine we could all die. Everyone Else: fuck you, bitch. Let us in. Ian Holm: I'm Bilbo! I do what I want! 
 egg: are you my mummy? *facegrab*
John Hurt: Are these dragon eggs? Dragon eggs under pretty mist in a deep, dark pit? Let's take some home! 
Ripley: Transmission looks like a warning. Should we... warn people? Ian Holm: Nope. Too late. If it's dangerous we're just screwed 
John Hurt: hey guys, come look in this creepy pit I just found! Only awesome stuff could be in here, right? 
It feels like Ian Holm is watching  with these tape blips. When's the invisible entity going to show up? 
Random shot of kitty is random. You're not fooling me by pretending everything's fine, Ridley. 
I miss the days when computer systems required a series of pretty lights to go off when they were working hard. 
Black man: we profiteers, not rescuers or explorers. No one: listens to him actually making sense. 
Wakey, wakey John Hurt. You've got a tough road ahead of you in this movie. 
Jerry Goldsmith, RIP. That man is a legend in both period adventure scores and horror/sci-fi. 
Although I haven't seen the theatrical cut in years, I'm going to go with the Director's Cut. Ridley calls them adjustments. 
 gave me a disc with options and special features? It's like they actually want to keep their customers or something. 
Live tweeting of . This is happening within the next few minutes. I apologize for the feed spam.  

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