It's not easy to write a blog post about the passing of the actress who played the Greatest Princess of All Time.  Even more so because that role was, in some ways, the least of her accomplishments.  It's not like there won't be anything else written: undoubtedly there will be plenty of articles, memorials, and tributes published in every form of media.  But I'd be doing a disservice to myself as a woman and a nerd if I didn't say something.
      Carrie Fisher was a complicated woman.  Some people only know her as Princess Leia, and certainly that was I how knew her for the majority of my life.  I remember the first time I saw her in another film - a cameo as a group therapist in "Austin Powers" - I was actually shocked.  It wasn't just that Princess Leia was an iconic role, it was that she played it so completely, utterly convincingly.  Whether wearing cinnamon-bun hair-dos or strangling giant slugs in a bronze bikini, the character of Leia remained consistent: a fierce woman, both quick-thinking and quick to act, flexible to meet any scenario, and unafraid to do what needed to be done, but never losing her natural kindness.*

A rebel from the first moment she appeared on screen.

      This was a critical character at a critical time.  In the late 70's & early 80's, princesses were more sugar and less spice.  Disney Animated Studios had thus far only provided Snow White, Cinderella, & Sleeping Beauty.  Other sci-fi films of that era - such as Starcrash, Krull, & even the original Star Trek movie - had weak female roles at best, hyper-sexualized roles at worst.  Growing up, I craved female characters to whom I could relate.  Princess Leia was the whole package--she was a whole woman.  She helped me understand I didn't have to trade my power and independence to earn a man's respect or affection.

"Buck Rogers in the 25th Century" came out the year after "Return of the Jedi."  I'm pretty sure this image says it all.

      But Carrie Fisher was much more than an actress.  She was an outspoken advocate for mental health and addiction treatment.  She struggled with both, and as a psychotherapist I can say in many ways she was the poster child for triumphing over each--which, in the real world, means living with it every day, struggling to keep balance, and living a full life regardless.  She struggled with drugs and alcohol as early as her teens, and almost died from an overdose at age 31 before going into inpatient treatment.  This was complicated by the fact she also suffered from Bi-Polar disorder, a severe and often misunderstood mental illness that requires consistent care and medication to manage.

Nobody should be ashamed of having a mental illness.

      Many people would consider these things as shameful secrets.  As a psychotherapist who specializes in working with people struggling with co-occurring addiction and mental illness, I can tell you how devastating the combination can be, and how challenging and complex it can be to get proper care.  Both carry their own bias, and together they can make people feel utterly alienated.  ButCarrie Fisher used her own story as a way to help others.  In an interview with "People Magazine" in 2013 she said: "Well the only lesson for me, or for anybody, is that you have to get help."  With simple humility, she was living proof that asking for help is not an act of weakness, but a feat of remarkable strength.  I admire that about her most of all.
      She shared her talents as an entertainer.  She shared her real life as a means to inspire.  She was a woman who lived with her heart on display, and suffered all the slings and arrows that such public existence makes one heir to.  The payoff was that she has touched millions of lives.  And she will be missed.



*Frankly she would have made a kick-ass Jedi.  But if they had let that happen, she would have eclipsed every other character, and the last movie would have been called "Return of the Best Jedi Ever."

      With the snow well and truly in the foothills, my hiking spree comes to an end.  I hiked a total of fourteen different trails this year, totaling approximately 74 miles.  I've got one more lined up.  And if I get any reasonably dry weekends this winter, I'll probably try a few more.
      On my first hike of 2016 I picked up a nice, natural pole of maple off the side of the trail.  It's about four feet long, approximately 1.25 inches in diameter, and still pretty green.  This has served as my walking stick on every hike this year.  I'm pretty happy I've been taking it along.  I get a lot of positive comments, and it's nice to have this practical memento that's been with me literally every step of the way.
      I've seen a fair percentage of people on the trail using artificial hiking sticks, the kind that look like ski poles.  Apparently they're called "trekking poles," and some of them cost over $100 each.

That's a pretty high-tech stick ya got there.

      I don't see the appeal.  Even if someone got me one as a gift, I'm not sure I'd ever use it.  I'm rather fond of nature.  That being said, any hiking stick is better than none.  Here's my rational:

#1) They're free.

#2) Good hikes wear out the legs long before they wear out the arms; give your knees a little love and brace your steps with a hiking stick on the way down.

#3) You can pretend you're a wandering wizard!

#4) Use it to fend off over-enthusiastic wildlife, like hungry raccoons and aggressive squirrels.

No, seriously: people feed squirrels, and the squirrels start to expect it from everybody.  If you don't deliver, they WILL attack you!  I've seen this happen!

#5) In the summer months, the first one on the trail for that day WILL encounter numerous spider webs.  Unless you LIKE walking through those, use your hiking stick to take them down as you go!

#6) Perfect for testing the reliability of footing when fording streams or going through rocky patches.

#7) People who didn't bring a hiking stick will have major stick envy.  (I've actually had random people ask me for my hiking stick.  In the middle of the woods.  Surrounded by other sticks.)

#8) Unlike the store-bought ones, the supply, manufacture, and distribution of sticks on the side of the trail have zero carbon footprint!

Made in America!  In fact it's made right here!  Like, actually right here...it just...y'know...grew on this tree.

#9) When you're done with it, you can just throw it on the side of the trail, and you're not littering!

#10) Don't act like #3 doesn't apply to you, because it totally does, nerd.

Everybody wants a wizard staff.  You are no exception.

      I was perusing the newspapers online today, and found this excellent article from the New York Times explaining just what the heck is going on with the Electoral College.  More than any other time in my life - including the tension-strapped presidential election of 2000 - I hear people talking about the Electoral College this year.  Most of them are like me: they have a vague recollection of learning about it in high school, none of which made sense because they were either a) experiencing panic triggered by the very word "college," or b) snickering about the nonsensical pun "erect-oral college," depending on their maturity level on that given day.

I think I still have my old U.S. Gov text book around somewhere....

      Although I am increasingly politically active these days,* my first reaction to this article was actually: "Wow, that's complicated. You can't make this stuff up."
      Then I realized: yeah you can.  People do it all the time.  Any mature, imaginary world has a made-up system of government, including mine.
      Plenty of good novels never bother going into politics in any way, shape, or fashion.  But many others - from spy thrillers to science fiction epics - touch on it with a certain level of confidence.  The more unique the world, the more essential a well-planned system of government, even if it's never fully explained.  The Harry Potter books are a great example.  Then you get Game of Thrones, which is entirely based around the complex intricacies of politics and government.  Even the Chronicles of Narnia rely on a hefty, if simplistic concept.
      Pondering this leads me inevitably to Star Wars.**  I probably saw the original Star Wars trilogy as a toddler, when "Return of the Jedi" came out.  Which means I was enjoying the heck out of it long before I could grasp a lot of what was going on.  In fact - and it embarrasses me to admit this - it wasn't until Episode One that I actually understood all the political nuances of the original trilogy.  (It also embarrasses me that I saw Episode One at all, but how could we have known what we were in for!?!)  I remember thinking, "Oh, I get it now, there's a senate!  And the empire wanted it gone!  And THAT's how there can be a princess who's not related to the emperor!"
      Don't judge me.  Toddlers get interesting ideas and can hold on to them for a really, really long time.

Although frankly I don't have high hopes for the government when the senate floor literally looks like particles being sucked down a drain.

      In my early attempts at fantasy writing, I went for very basic monarchies as governments.  They were character driven, and I didn't have to think too hard about how they worked.  I'd like to say I've come far since then, but the truth is I still tend to lean towards simplistic governments.  When I do got for something more politically complex, I usually pull a George R.R. Martin and base them on history (although not nearly as intricately as he).  This is a challenge for me, to be honest.  I don't have a very scheming mind.  I suck at chess.  But if I have a mature story that calls for any reference to the government of my worlds, I try to have an outline, because I need to know what the heck is going on even if it never gets fully explained to the reader.
      I'd love to know what other writers - and readers - think about this.  When your story takes place in an imaginary place, do you think the politics are important?  Do they add to a story, or detract?  And how the heck do you keep them straight?



*Gettin' mah social justice on!  Woot!

**Incidentally, if you haven't seen Rogue One yet, go see it!  But re-watch the original Star Wars movie first; unless you have it memorized like me, you'll be glad of the refresher to get all the awesome bits and references.

      Everyone's got that Thanksgiving leftover that lingers...and lingers...and lingers.  For some it's the turkey: the first three sandwiches were good, but by the time you get to the fourth you are so ready to never eat poultry again.  For some it's the veggies, which always lose some luster upon re-heating.  But more often than not, it's whichever dish turned out - shall we say - less than optimal.

This is a yam.  But most people in the U.S. call it a Sweet Potato.  Real sweet potatoes have a more dusty brown outside, and a creamy white inside, and taste a little less sweet.  I love real sweet potatoes.  But they don't make good Sweet Potato Casserole, or bread, or pancakes, so...yeah.  Stick with these.

      For one of my friends this year, that was the sweet potato casserole.  He didn't drain the sweet potatoes quite enough, so the casserole wound up rather runny.  The flavor was good, but the texture was kind of like baby food, and the topping didn't crisp.  Hence a half a pan of casserole sitting in the fridge for a week straight.
      I said, "Turn it into something else."
      He said, "Like what?"
      I said, "I dunno, like quick bread, or muffins."
      He said, "That's baking.  I don't bake, I cook."
      He gave me 1 & 1/2 Cups leftover sweet potato casserole the moment I got home.  It was a dare, a thrown gauntlet to my kitchen know-how.  I divided it into two portions, and made two things.  I got the pancakes, he got the bread.  I delivered it to his office, and ten minutes later I got a text saying: "DAMN, that's good bread!!!"
      Two hours later, another co-worker said, "That was good bread, by the way."
      Another hour after that, yet another co-worker said, "Hey, that was some gooood bread!"
      Z.D.: 1, Leftovers: 0.  So here you go:

Leftover Sweet Potato Casserole Bread
Ingredients:

• ½ Cup granulated sugar
• ½ Cup packed brown sugar 
• 1/3 Cup unsweetened real cranberry juice (NOT cranberry cocktail)*
• 1/3 Cup shortening
• 2 large eggs
• 1 tsp vanilla extract
• 1 Cup leftover sweet potato casserole
• 1 & 1/4 Cups all purpose flour
• 1 tsp baking soda
• 1/4 tsp baking powder
• 1/2 tsp salt
• 1 & ½ tsp ground cinnamon
• 3/4 tsp ground cardamom

• 1/2 Cup leftover sweet potato casserole
• 1 large egg 
• 1 Cup buttermilk (scant)
• 1 Cup all-purpose flour
• 1/2 tsp cinnamon
• 1/4 tsp kosher salt
• 1/4 tsp baking powder
• 1 tsp baking soda

      This post is about soup.  It contains a relatively simple and delicious recipe.  I just thought I'd say that up front, in case you don't have the wherewithall to get through the preamble.  

Soup, glorious soup!

      The events of November 8th have definitely left an impact on me.  Aside from sending some of my clients into crisis (I'm a psychologist, remember?), it's emboldened some assholes* in my city to be more visible in their hate mongering.  I've been stepping up my game as an activist in response.  That means more time writing about social justice, attending meetings, and reaching out.  It also means less time doing creative writing, or working on this blog.  *sigh*
      The good news is that my most recent writing project stalled after reaching 41,474 words.  That's in four weeks of writing.  I'm damn proud of myself.  If you're a serious writer, you know that kind of productivity is a gift--and a rush to boot.  As I adjust to my new obligations, I hope to find time to get back to it soon.
      In the meantime, there is one joy that life thrusts upon me daily, no matter what else is going on in the world: food!  We all need it.  Obtaining a meal can be a chore, it can be a side-effort, or it can be an opportunity for self-care and celebration.**  The weather is cold and some of us are in need of a little comfort, so the obvious answer?  Soup.
      Or pie.  But today's recipe is soup.
      This is a recipe inspired by a Majorcan vegetarian bread stew.  What the heck is a bread stew, you ask?  It's a soup finished with slices of bread on top, adding thickness and heartiness.  Lovely, but not always practical.  So here's my adaptation (I apologize there are no pictures, but every step looks pretty much as you might imagine, so no surprises):

Z.D.'s Vegetable Soup with a Spanish Flair

Ingredients:
1 Tbs olive oil
      You can substitute turkey bacon if you want, but then double the amount of olive oil and don't pour any off.  You can also omit the meat entirely and make this a vegetarian dish.  Finally, if you  like vegetable soup - or even if you just tolerate it - I highly, highly, HIGHLY recommend this Winter Vegetable Soup by Alton Brown.  It takes all afternoon to make, but holy crow, you will be flabbergasted that a vegetable soup can taste this good.



      Eat well.  Live well.  Help others to eat and live well, too.



*I will not use a softer word, because this one isn't strong enough.

**Oh yeah, don't we have a holiday coming up that has a lot to do with food?

      When I woke up this morning, I kept waiting for Scorpius Malfoy to burst in and confess he'd been messing with an illegal Time Turner.*  Only there's no desperate remnants of the Order of the Phoenix living in hiding, willing to sacrifice themselves to make it all right.  A tragically significant portion of my country's population is driven by fear, hate, and ignorance.  This is the reality I live in.
      Trump declared himself a "unifier."  Just thinking about it makes my stomach turn, but in a way he was right: nothing brings people together like a common enemy.  There are a lot of people who feel that anyone who doesn't share the same skin color, or language, or religion, or way of loving is an enemy.  That's a pretty terrifying thought.

Not to mix my fantasy fiction references, but apparently Cersei was on Trump's advisory committee.

      I had decided to keep politics out of this blog.  I didn't want to estrange potential readers, agents, editors or publishers.  But what I write is inherently political, because it reflects my values.  Sometimes that may be subtle, but other times it takes front and center.  And the last thing I want to do is let my selfishness or fear steal my right to free speech.  So while this is STILL not a political blog, I am not going to shy away from sticking up for what's right.  This U.S. presidential election was a horrible blow to a lot of people around the world.  The only thing to do is pick ourselves up, find one another's hand to hold, and figure out how to fight harder.  That's what separates the Great - Mahatma Gandhi, Nelson Mandela, Malala Yousafzai - from the victims.
      By the way, I'm declaring Donald Trump's birthday as Voldemort Day.  I plan to mark it every year with a "What Would the Order of the Phoenix Do?" gathering to encourage activism.  You're invited.  Bring your ideas.


*If you don't get the reference, get off your duff and read "Harry Potter and the Cursed Child" - J.K. Rowling did her own Fan Fiction, and it's pretty darn good!

      Everyone who celebrates Halloween has their own way to seek out a good scare.  Some people like to go on zombie tours or haunted houses.  Other people like to search for real ghosts.  Some people seek out terror on the screen or in the pages of a good book.  Others like their spookiness mingled with a few good chuckles.
      And then there are some people who think Halloween is really meant just for kids.

This totally says "kid friendly" to me.

      Who are these people, and what is wrong with them?  Kids don't need holidays to play dress up or eat sugar!  And did you miss that part where monsters, murderers, vermin, and dead people are involved!?!
      Anyway, for me it's Gothic Horror, all the way.  Give me the dreary antiquity, the gloomy and forlorn, the doomed beauty and the unavenged wrongs.  Give me ghosts who want more than gore.  Give me settings as gorgeous as they are petrifying.

Conan Doyle's "Hound of the Baskervilles" is a good one.  Actually, it may have been my first...I watched a lot of Jeremy Brett as Sherlock Holmes growing up.

      Perfect example?  Just got back from watching Del Toro's Crimson Peak with my girl Camela Thompson.  This is my second time seeing the movie.  And I freaking love that movie.
      If you haven't seen it, then guess what?  Tomorrow is Halloween!  You have the perfect excuse!  It's got everything Guillermo del Toro does best: jaw-dropping sets, tantalizing plot, vibrant characters, and that exquisitely perfect mix of heart-rending beauty and truly shocking violence.  Why shocking?  Because he uses it just right.  Del Toro uses violence the way Hitchcock used suspense: just the right amount, at the right time, in the right way to really take your breath away.  I've seen hard-core slasher movie fans flinch and gasp at some of the key moments in Pan's Labyrinth.*

      The sad thing is how easy it is to make gothic horror cheesy, or over dramatic.  When it's done well, it's just so terrifyingly yummy.  When it's done badly, it's like opening a bottle of expensive wine, only to find it's gone to vinegar.  It'll probably be too damn long before another great gothic horror film comes out.  So I'll just rely on books.
      Or better yet, write one myself.


*If you've seen it, you know exactly what I'm talking about.  If you haven't seen it...*sigh*  Just...go watch it.  You'll thank me.

      So you may be wondering why I haven't updated in awhile.*  The answer is both a good thing, and a bad thing.  And an... amusing ...thing ...I guess.
      Simply put, I've been bit by a writing bug.  I got an idea for a story right after Geek Girl Con, started writing it down, and I'm just still going.  I sit down to my laptop every morning at breakfast (I'm eating oatmeal with bananas as I type this) and I think, "I need to update my blog, and I need to copy over that recipe, and I need to reply to these emails. But...this story isn't going to write itself!!!"  And I open my Word document and it just keeps freakin' flowing.  Each time there's this expectation that I'm going to hit a wall and nothing more will come of it, but that hasn't happened yet.  In fact, I leave each morning for work feeling mildly frustrated because I wanted to keep going.
      Obviously this is good because a) I'm writing, and b) I'm enjoying the hell out of myself.  But this is bad, too, because I'm neglecting other duties.  Case in point: this update isn't going to have any images, because I'm not going to take a moment longer on this than necessary.  I want to get back to my story.
      This happened to me once before, about three years ago, when I was inspired by a Halloween night storm to write a ghost story.  (Actually, there are some similarities in the two tales, now that I think about it: both take place in an old mansion, and both involve some supernatural mystery.  And that's all I'm going to tell you.)  It seems that Fall is just an inspiring time for me.  I feel like my Muse didn't want to wait for NaNoWriMo, and jumped the gun a month early; I checked my document the other day and in three weeks I've already written 20,065 words.
      So the amusing thing?  Part of the reason this is going so well is that I have zero intention of trying to publish this story.  I'm just writing it for me.  And maybe a couple of the right friends.  That's because it's not a good story, it's not a powerful story, and it's not a meaningful story: it's just a downright entertaining story for the right kind of audience.**  And I DO NOT want my first published work(s) to be that kind of fluff.  But at this point in my life, publication is a dream, and writing is - happily - a reward in itself.
        So if you'll excuse me, I'm going to get back to the fun stuff.  Check back next week: once I have sufficiently scratched this itch, I've got a Con summary, some movie reviews, and a fabulous Spanish vegetable soup recipe to share with you.  Happy Halloween!



*Because apparently, you're really, really bored.

**Let your imagination fill in the gaps.  You're probably not that far off base.

      Geek Girl Con is this weekend!  If you live in the Seattle area, and you're a geeky girl, your attendance is required, lest you lose your hard-earned geek cred.  And geek cred can be hard to come by as a female: we're under-represented as serious players in the sciences, in sci-fi and fantasy genres,  in action comics and movies, and in video games.  There are a number of reasons for this, many of which are socio-political and/or historical.  But those are in the past.  It's time for Khaleesi to round up the dragons, for Samus to suit up, and for Black Widow to get her own movie.
      Seriously, Marvel: Black Widow needs her own freaking movie.

Or else.

      But I digress.
      If you're still making up your mind about attending, check out the line-up of panels and activities.  If that doesn't persuade you, go see a doctor, because I think you might have head trauma.  Yours truly will be co-hosting the panel "Brainy Anime Babes Who Know More Science Than You" on Saturday, at 1:30pm, along with horror/thriller novelist Camela Thompson.  We'll discuss women in the sciences through the lens of my favorite pop culture media.  Art emulates life, after all.
      Aside from the awesome panels, it's hard to know what I'm looking forward to the most.  The kick-ass cosplay?  The unbelievable merch!?  The games??!  Honestly, it's something far less tangible: the feeling of community.  The best thing about going to a Con is this overwhelming sense of "Holy $#!t, I've found my clan."  It gives us all a sense of belonging, and permission to let our freak flags fly!  And every geek - and every girl - can benefit from a shot of confidence.

See you there.

      I just looked at my calendar, and October 4th is National Taco Day.
      This year, it falls on a Tuesday.
      It is a federally sanctioned Taco Tuesday.  Life just got so, so awesome.

When I announced National Taco (Tues)Day to my Mom, she wanted to know which came first: "Taco Tuesday," or "The Lego Movie."  I couldn't tell her, and I'm too lazy to look it up.

      When I was growing up, tacos were made with ground beef cooked with a spice packet that probably contained more salt than the Atlantic Ocean.  It was then spooned into hard, yellow taco shells, sprinkled with shredded orange cheese, and popped in the oven until said cheese melted.  We ate this with jarred salsa and shredded ice burg lettuce.  And I absolutely loved it.*
      These days I eat two kinds of tacos: awesome gourmet tacos I get off the happy hour menus of restaurants I otherwise can't afford, and my own super-cheat tacos that probably have nothing to do with Mexico.  I'll lay out the recipe here (don't judge me).  Sorry there are no photos to go with, but my schedule doesn't allow for much whim-of-the-moment cooking these days, much less amateur food photography:

Z.D.'s I-Want-to-Make-Something-Like-a-Taco Recipe
serves 4

Ingredients:
2 Tablespoons Canola oil
1 yellow onion, finely chopped
1 bell pepper (you choose your color), finely chopped
1 to 2 chipotle chiles in adopo sauce, minced (for spicy tacos)
2 tsp dried oregano
kosher salt to taste
1/2 to 1 full Cup leftover steamed white rice (optional)**
1 can black beans, rinsed and drained
1/2 Cup water
1 lime, cut into quarters

Serve with:
fresh flour tortillas
fresh diced tomato
fresh sliced avocado
baby arugula and/or shredded cabbage
minced cilantro

Directions:
 - In a large non-stick pan, warm the oil over medium heat.  Add the onion and sauté until translucent. Increase the heat to medium-high and add the bell pepper, sauté just until the edges start to brown.

- Stir in the chipotle chiles, oregano, and salt.  Add in the rice and stir until fully incorporated and heated through, about 1 minute.  Stir in the beans and the water, bring to a boil.

 - Reduce to a low simmer and cook, uncovered and stirring occasionally, until flavors are melded and water has entirely evaporated.  Squeeze one quarter lime over mixture and stir.  Taste, adjust lime and other seasonings as desired.

 - Serve with gently warmed tortillas, remaining lime, and toppings

Something random.  You're welcome.

      If you're not down with spicy, you can substitute 2-4 tsp of ground cumin for the chipotle chiles.  If you want MORE spice, double (or even triple) the chipotle.  And of course you can serve with whatever toppings you want: salsa, guacamole, sour cream, cheese, diced green onion, toasted pepitas, hot sauce....  Not all of those are authentically Mexican, but then again, little about this recipe is authentic.  And I would be very, VERY surprised if Mexico had an National Taco Day.
      Or maybe I wouldn't.  A lot of awesome things come out of Mexico, and Latin America in general.
      If you're going to go out for tacos next Tuesday, I want to know where.  And if you're making your own, I want the recipe.  Gracias.




*Except for the salsa.  Even as a kid, I didn't care for jarred salsa.  If I eat it now, it has to be fresh, and preferably homemade.

**This is something I add to stretch the recipe, and to use up leftover rice when I'm all burnt out on fried rice.  If you omit the rice, halve the spices to start, then adjust the seasoning as you go.

      If you're a long-time reader of this blog, or if you know me personally, you are aware that Halloween is my favorite holiday.  I celebrate all October long!*  It's the epitome of so many of my favorite things: hanging out with friends, playing dress up, eating sweets, and telling scary stories.  That last one in particular is a weird one for me, because I'm also a total wimp who can't watch horror movies.

When I finally own my house, it will be decorated like this for Halloween.  Except cooler, with more spider webs & a fog machine & motion-activated bats.

      When I say I like a scary story, I mean I like a well-told tale that makes my spine go rigid.  I enjoy visions of splendid buildings fallen into decay.  I want the sound of wind moaning louder and louder, until you can no longer lie to yourself that it's just the wind.  I enjoy old tragedies that inspire regret beyond the grave, lingering like mist low to the ground.  I like the mystery of the unseen.

And nothing transports the imagination like a good book.

      My tradition the last few years has been to indulge in both a modern and a classic scary story during the month of October.  This year I was going to read House of Leaves, which has come to me highly recommended.  Based on what I know about it, however, I think it would frankly freak me the fuck out, and I can't read that before bed when I'm sleeping alone.  So it's being postponed one more year.  Instead, this year I plan to indulge in a non-fiction book entitled The Curve of Time.  Although not intended to be a scary story, there are apparently plenty of creepy, otherworldly encounters recorded in it's pages.  And since it a) takes place in my area, and b) is ostensibly a true story...yeah.  I think that might do the trick nicely.
      In terms of the classic, I'm debating between H. G. Wells' The Invisible Man, or the collected works of Edgar Allan Poe.  I've never read Wells.  Although not strictly a horror novel, I think it often gets grouped in the "scary story" genre because of the science-gone-wrong aspect.  Plus it preys on the inherent fear of being forgotten--literally "disappearing from the world."  But then again, Poe is classic, and creepy, and gloriously gothic.  I read his short stories in high school, but I think the language prevented me from absorbing as much as I could.  So is this the time to revisit?

I am so this kid.  Why do I do this to myself?

     I have a week yet to make up my mind.  I'm open to suggestions.  If you have a favorite scary story, I'd love to hear what makes your skin prickle, and leave the light on as you sleep.


*But not BEFORE October.  It drives me nuts that stores start putting out their Halloween merch in August.  I can't get in the creepy gothic mood when I'm still working my tan!

      If you are serious about being a published fiction writer, you've probably been given the following advice: write short stories.  Try to publish short stories.  Submit short stories to contests.  Agents/editors/publishers are more likely to read your novel manuscript if you've put out some short stories.
      I have no idea whether or not this advice holds water.  Partly because a) I've never read that many short stories, so I don't have a good sense of their popularity, and b) I suck at writing them.

It's funny, because it's true.

      I try.  I really, honestly try.  Every now and again I put out a burst of effort, and I think I may have completed two or three halfway decent stories.  More often, however, I either give up halfway through because THERE IS NO WAY that I will accomplish what I want in under 5000 words, or I do finished it, and realize it's not a short story at all: it's a scene from a novel.
      As I was writing this blog post, it occurred to me that I'm not even sure what qualifies as a short story, so I decided to look it up.  I read eleven different websites and each had a different definition.  Here are the definitions I trust the most:

Flash Fiction = 53 to 1,000 words*
Short Story = 3,500 to 7,500 words
Novelette = 7,500 to 17,000 words
Novella = 17,000 to 40,000 words
Novel = 40,000 words or more

      I was recently presented with an opportunity to write a short story on a very general theme, with almost a promise it would be published in an anthology.  It just so happened I already had an idea that might fit.  So I grabbed my notebook, bought a fruit smoothie, and headed to the lake to enjoy some late summer sunshine and let the creativity flow.  It worked.  My rough draft totaled at just under 6,000 words.  The characters, concept, and language felt pretty solid for a first draft.  I was very pleased with my creativity over-all.
      But...it's not a short story.
      Oh, the length is there, but there's no STORY!  It's a SCENE!  When I read it, I feel like a mildly interested voyeur into a somewhat bizarre, paranormal conversation.  But in terms of a beginning, middle, and end, it is weak sauce.  And I actually finished writing it, got in the shower, and banged my head against the wall in frustration.**

Shove it, Will, you bloody hypocrite.

      So I came up with the following theory: I think my problem is that I let my characters tell the story.  When I write a manuscript for a novel, I have ideas for challenges and circumstances, but then I sit back and let the characters I've created figure out what to do.  I just write down how they would react.  If they don't react the way I want, I either tweak their backstory or I change the impetus so they wind up where I want.  Example: let's say I want a character to burn down a cheese factory, but arson really isn't in keeping with their personality.  I could put a traumatic incident in their childhood involving Gruyere to alter their motivation.  Or, I could have a villain threaten the life of their grandmother if they don't torch the joint.
      But there isn't room for that kind of development in a short story!  With limited space, I just have to tell the reader "Hepzibah's PTSD was so severe, she blacked out at the smell of cheddar," and they just have to take my word for it.  Whereas I look at that sentence, and I think: something that good deserves a whole page--maybe a whole chapter!
      So...I'll never be a great writer.  The Greats always wrote short stories: Austen, London, Bradbury, LeGuin, etc.  Stephen King got his start with short stories.  Just thinking about it bums me out.  I think I'm going to made myself a grilled cheese sandwich and take a shower.  Not at the same time.



*And heaven forbid you should want to write something between 1,000 and 3,500 words, you non-conformist freak!

**Not too hard, though.  Just enough to get my point across.  I like my noggin safe and non-concussed.

      You may recall that I'm working on turning one of my manuscripts into a trilogy.  Because apparently I have a passion for re-arranging the deck chairs on sinking ships.  And I'm actually getting to the point where I'm not looking forward to sitting down and working on it every morning, because I'm stuck.
      I wouldn't say I have writer's block, exactly; when I find a spot to elaborate with another paragraph, or a scene I want to change just a touch, my fingers fly over the keyboard.  Words I got.  What I'm lacking is the foresight to figure out exactly what my character would do in this certain situation.
      Allow me to explain: turning my gas-lamp fantasy into a trilogy means I get to make it longer (fun)!  Specifically, I've got room to add another 30,000 words to the second volume.  Which means I get to add in a few little sub-plots, and flesh out some very minor characters so they're no longer just passing scenery.  It also means that now I get to tell the tale of what happened to one of my main characters between London and Cairo.*  Which should be interesting, because he's a character who does a lot of growing in this series.

The Suez Canal has a fascinating history.  I like taking things that have fascinating history in the real world and working them into fictional stories!

      But now my dilemma: I'm not exactly sure what he would do.
      Usually when I'm stuck in a situation like this, I walk around my house doing minor chores and talk to myself out loud.  I reason out what I know about the character's personality, and ply a few "what if" situations.  Almost invariably, within a 20 minutes or less, I have my answer.  It just clicks.  What's more, I get a little thrill of excitement and motivation as scenes appear inside my head, like watching a movie, and I can hardly wait to start transcribing the vision.**
      This time, nothing's clicking.  I can think of a number of scenarios, and it's not hard to figure out what my character would do, but none of them feels right.  And I am not - NOT - putting this much gods-damned effort into this bloody story just to wank out a sub-par sub-plot.

*snort*  Hemingway...what did he know about writing?  Bah!

      So...what do I do?  Write down a draft of all three possibilities, and see if one of them takes?  Table it and come back to it later?  Pick one and run with it?  Keep talking to myself until I come up with something better or the neighbors call the cops???  ARRGH!!!
     Ok, what would you do?



*Or rather, the equivalents thereof in my fictional universe.

**This is why I carry a little pocket chapbook wherever I go, so that I can stop and jot this stuff down if I'm not near my laptop.  Far too many excellent ideas have been lost by people not taking the time to write them down.  I've even pulled over on the freeway once or twice to do this....

    I was going to post something about writing today - I really was, it was going to be deep and inspiring - but then I looked at the morning paper.  For the first time in a long time, the headline made he ridiculously happy.  And the best thing to do with happiness is to pass it around.  So here you go:

Read the story - and watch the videos!!! - of the local rescue of this baby sea otter.  And remember: most human beings are kind.  Many of them are very kind, and generous.  Our empathy and generosity is such that it touches other humans, and even other animals.  There's hope for us yet.

      I'll post something deep and moving about writing this weekend.  It's a four day weekend, so yeeeaaay!

P.S. - Today (Aug 30th) is National Toasted Marshmallow Day!

      I went to see "Suicide Squad" about a week ago.  Up until the moment the ticket was in my hot little hand, I was uncertain whether or not I would watch the movie in the theater--or at all, really.  Let's face it: DC hasn't had a great run.  I went to see "Batman vs Superman" in a theater pub hoping that a few shots would render it palata.  They didn't.  And I'm a person who is easily entertained.
      Of all the DC movies PCB*, "Suicide Squad" was by far the best.  But saying that is like comparing and contrasting brands of kitty litter, or containers for holding your compost: you never actually get excited about any of them, you're just happy you found something that does the job and doesn't give off an abominable stink.  Still, I enjoyed the film.  I find my opinion evolving as I reflect on it as time goes by,  circling around three main points.

1) I am utterly content with Jared Leto's portrayal of the Joker.  I thought his performance was solid, appropriate for the film, and unique from the other versions in movies since 1980.  There's no resurrecting the Joker as played by Heath Ledger, and honestly it would be a bad idea to try.  I give full props for vision and follow-through.

Slick, shiny, and severely insane.  I am suitably disturbed.

2) I'm still making up my mind about their portrayal of all the villain protagonists as some variety of contemporary street thugs.  The contemporary part makes sense, but does it smack of ethnic stereotyping?

3) Much to my surprise, I'm also still mulling over how the relationship between the Joker and Harley Quinn was portrayed--something about it really stuck with me.  As far as comic book romances go, these two are pretty famous duo, and the subject of intense discussion.  I don't read the comics, but I know enough to understand I only know the tip of the iceberg.  There're probably multiple doctoral theses written on the subject.

And while one would think that they would be the textbook archetype for a dysfunctional relationship, there are a frightening large number of people who would beg the contrary.  I fear for my generation.

      The movie had several fails in my opinion.  Some editing choices were jarring, some dialogue was pretty weak, and a few characters flat-out unbelievable, even for a comic book villain.  But the biggest problem remains Batman.
      Dear DC Head Honchos: whoever decided you needed a Batman reboot so soon after "Dark Knight Rises" should be fired.  Every chef knows you don't follow your most superb gourmet entrée with a freaking Hostess Twinkie.  People need time to digest, refresh the palate, and grow an appetite for something different.  Duh.
      So after watching "Suicide Squad" my husband and I met up with some friends to address this problem.  After an evening of cocktails and junk food, we reached an important decision:
      Playing a good Batman comes down to three important things: being suave as Bruce Wayne, being brooding as Batman**, and having a chin that looks good in the bat suit.  Seriously.  I can't over-state the importance of the chin.

Christian Bale had it all: everyone wanted to date Bruce Wayne, everyone bought into Batman's dark neuroses, and for the love of Arkham, just LOOK AT THAT CHIN!!!

One would think that Ben Affleck has the chin to pull it off, but he doesn't.  Something about the cowl makes his jaw look chubby.  It drives me nuts.

Suave: check, as proven in Star Wars VII.  Brooding: check, as demonstrated in "Ex Machina."  And chin...my gods, people, just LOOK AT THAT CHIN!!!!

      But alas, I doubt anybody's going to replace Ben Affleck any time soon.  And I doubt that DC is going to stop this line of movies any time soon.  BUT...I learned my lesson with Star Wars Episodes One, Two, and Three: I will no longer be suckered into paying money at a theater for a movie I know is going to suck, just for the sake of a beloved franchise.  So unless "Wonder Woman" gets really great reviews, I've got better junk to fill this head.

*Post-Christian Bale

**Ooo, I should apply my Broodometer to Batman!!!

      Just in case you've been wondering where I'm at in the grand scheme of writing things, I've actually been doing a lot.  My new daily routine allows for at least a solid hour of writing every morning, while I enjoy my breakfast.  The situation is ideal for me: wake up, make tasty food, eat part while checking email and reading my daily webcomics, and then finish up my tea while working on stories.  I honestly love my mornings.  How many people can say that?

My idea of heaven is to spend a week at a gourmet bed & breakfast with a view of the ocean, and be able to spend my days writing and walking, well-fed in body and soul

      As for WHAT I'm writing...well...that's a different matter.
      Once upon a time, I wrote a gas lamp fantasy manuscript about two demons trying to be human, two women trying to be themselves, a curse, and a conspiracy to bring hell on earth.  I *loved* writing this story.  And it was ridiculously long.  Like, 150k words long.  No way any editor in their right mind would accept a manuscript like that from an unproven author.
      So I did the intelligent thing and divided it into two books.  Now I had two manuscripts, each of the perfect length, and honestly I thought they were both pretty good.  I got some good feedback from beta readers, trimmed some parts, lengthened others, and firmed up the dialogue a bit.  And last year I submitted queries to several different agents.
      I got a few nibbles, but no bites--which isn't a big surprise.  Had logic prevailed, I would have shelved the manuscript for the time being and gone on to work on other projects (how many have I got in the works now? Seven?  Eight?).  But I have this problem: I think this story is the best work I have ever done.  I think the plot, the characters, the world, the language, all of it is seriously solid.  I read other published novels that are in the same genre and I think, "But my story is BETTER than this one!  How'd this get published, and not mine!?"*
      I'm biased, of course.  Not only because it's my work, but because I know it so well I can't be objective anymore.  It's too familiar, so I can't tell where there are holes in the plot, or if important scenes are understated or over-dramatic.  Of course I strive to be thoughtful and intelligent in my approach, but that's not a perfect guide.  In fact, there are times I suspect I'm downright wrong.  Such as my latest idea.
      "Clearly," I thought, "the problem is that the story needs to be a TRILOGY!!!"
      Just writing this makes me want to smack myself on the forehead.

If you ever catch my trying to make this into 4 books, please, please stop me.

      So yeah.  I've spent the last couple months dividing my two novels into three, re-arranging some of the scenes, adding back in some deleted material, and adding new bits to try and create compelling individual story arcs.  Believe me, I am in no way entirely convinced this is a smart move.  But there was no way to know until I'd done it, and once I started, I'm committed.
      I just finished the first draft of book one.  Now I get to tackle book two.  That's going to involve a lot of scene re-arranging.  *sigh*  My plan is to finish a first draft of the trilogy, and then ignore it for a few months while I work on something else.  Then hopefully come back to it with semi-fresh eyes.  And maybe shell out the bucks for a professional editor, because at this point, all my dear, dear friends who volunteer as beta-readers have already gone through at least one version of this thing.
     This is why I write first thing in the morning: creativity flows best before I actually let myself think.


*Not to misconstrue my ego, it should be noted that this is not my reaction to most novels.  Most novels I read with mingled joy, envy, and despair, thinking: "This is so freaking awesome!  I wish I could write like this!  But I don't think I'll ever be able to write like this!  Therefore I will go eat more chocolate, and read the next chapter, instead of doing the dishes!"