Aethereal World
(Latest 20 entries) (Calendar) (Friends) (User info) Navigate: (Previous 20 entries)
Sunday, June 28, 2009
Somewhere or other on the internet, I was reading about common tropes in werewolf romance, and I thought, wouldn't it be more interesting if these had anything at all to do with the sexual dynamics of actual wolves?
So, here, have a first sentence:
I knew that Auntie Nora was pregnant again, because I spent the afternoon with her, and by the next morning I was kneeling in front of the toilet, renewing my acquaintance with last night's dinner. I don't anticipate adding more sentences but you never know.
Friday, June 5, 2009
Uriel has the instincts of a filker. If you sing him a song with the word "two" in it, he will say, "three." If you sing him a song with "Daisy", he will say "Different engine name!" (Because of Daisy on Thomas the Tank Engine, you see.) If you sing "bicycle," he will say, "Different vehicle!"
Hence, this:
( A Tractor Built for N )
Also, in the interest of keeping score, I finished chapter nineteen two days ago.
Also, for the people reading this who don't read dhole's journal (both of you!), he's the official blogger for the Ashkelon dig this year. Behold his official blog!
Monday, May 25, 2009
If it were November 30th, 2003, I would have won NaNoWriMo.
. . . hooray?
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
Over the last couple of days, I read, in quick succession, papersky's Vorkosigan Saga posts on tor.com, and a whole pile of fandom secrets. This made me wonder what Miles Vorkosigan would think about his fandom, or, specifically, fanfic about himself.
I immediately realized that, being the attention whore that he is, Miles would love it. Fics that were completely out of character, crack pairings, all of it. His wife Ekaterin, on the other hand, being the intensely private person she is, would hate it.
Thus the following scene was born:
Vorkosigan House, afternoon. The kids have finally gone down for their nap. MILES and EKATERIN sit at their respective comconsoles, reading Vorkosiverse fanfic.
EKATERIN: Kill them . . . kill their families. Burn their houses.
MILES: Oh, look! Here's one where I'm an ocelot!
Monday, March 23, 2009
Recently, Uriel's been interested in dhole's hiker's encyclopedia of Israel. Specifically, he's interested in the list of hikes, with brief information about each one.
"If we go from Har Mizpeh Hayamim to Safed, we'd see water and flowers. It's a medium walk, and we could go in the spring, fall, or winter. It's ten kilometers, takes about seven hours, and we can find the map on page 327 of volume three," I'll say.
"Let's see what hikes there are in volume four!" he'll reply happily.
There was one entry I felt compelled to bring to dhole's attention. "We should do this one," I said. "Ma'aleh Sha'ar Hagay to Mordo. It says we can simply walk there."
In other news, last night I met for the first time my second cousin Sam, who is knocking around the country doing odd jobs and seeing sights while he waits for his aliyah paperwork to go through, after which he'll be drafted. He seems like a keen hiker. I wonder if he wants to go to Mordo with us?
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
So over at Smart Bitches, Trashy Books, SB Sarah reviewed Julia Spencer-Fleming's In the Bleak Midwinter, the first in a series of books about an Episcopalian minister (female) and a cop (male) who solve crimes in a small town in Upstate New York whilst experiencing unresolved sexual tension. She gave it an A-, which in the SB Sarah rating system means "I love this book and want to have its children."
In the comments, LizC mentioned that Ms. Spencer-Fleming had a short story featuring the characters from the book up on her website, so I decided to take a look, and you all should too, because it's a fantastic story: Collect for a Noonday Service
There are two things in particular that I like about it. First of all, man is that some tight plotting. Tight like hot pants on a 70s starlet. Click, click, click like a rubix cube, seriously. The essence (or at least, an essence) of a mystery plot is the gradual, ordered, and elegant revealing of information, and this is one of the best examples of that I've seen.
The second thing "Collect for a Noonday Service" does well is something that I've rarely seen attempted, let alone succesfully. The plot driven not by the actions of a single protagonist (or a single protagonist and his one or two sidekicks, or the opposed actions of a single protagonist and a single antagonist) but by the cooperative actions of a group of eight people. Each one has a piece of information without which the crime couldn't be solved, which is not in itself unique -- there are plenty of stories where the protagoinist has to collect clues from a diverse group of secondary characters. But this isn't that. While there is (for most of the story; the POV is a little slippery at first) a single point of view character who is clearly the protagoinist, the other characters are there not simply to provide her with plot tokens but are actively and continuously engaged in figuring out the mystery; the final result is something they all make together.
There are many reasons why this isn't usually attempted, and I could go on about the fundamental aloneness of man or the individualism of Western culture, but I think one of the main reasons it isn't usually done is because it's hard to write. Julia Spencer-Fleming pulls it off here.
I did have a few problems with the story -- the romance/angst which seems to be a hallmark of the larger series can seem shoehorned in when it appears here, and occasionally overwrought. Furthermore, the prose was not quite as tight as the plotting; in a story which is essentially about a large group of people sitting around and talking to each other, it has to be absolutely clear at all times who is speaking, and that wasn't always the case. But on the whole it's an excellent story, and if you like this sort of thing you will like it. I'm looking at you specifically, rereader.
Friday, February 27, 2009
Now, I know there must be someone on my friends list who likes cute readheaded butch girls with French accents singing country songs.
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
Sunday, February 8, 2009
If you are in Jerusalem and want cookies on Thursday, let me know.
Sunday, February 1, 2009
Who doesn't love delicious homemade cookies? Racist inciters, that's who.
But those of you who love delicious homemade cookies, live in Jerusalem, and are theoretically eligible to serve in the Knesset assuming that you're citizens of Israel, are in luck. Because delicious cookies, homemade by me, will be available for purchase this week!
Mandelbrot – 20 shekel/dozen
Brownies, spice cookies, or oatmeal raisin cookies – 25 shekel/dozen
Big chewy chocolate chip cookies – 30 shekel/dozen
Tu B'shvat fruitcake (vegan) – 40 shekel
All the cookies are pareve and made with canola oil (and not margarine.) Get your orders in by Tuesday night and I will have your cookies to you on Thursday.
I don't know whether I'll be doing this again or what cookies will be available at what prices if I do. We'll have to see how this one goes.
Monday, January 12, 2009
That's chapter seventeen done. The first 1257 words were a scene I've been wanting to write since I first concieved of the book, about fifteen years ago. I think I did actually write a version of it in one of my high school notebooks, although what that version had in common with the current version consists of the words "the", "and", and some character names.
So that went fast. Then I had very little idea what happened in the rest of the chapter. And just when I was getting toward the end, I was ambushed by poetry.
But now it's done.
Wednesday, December 3, 2008
I have a little dreidel I made it out of plastic But when I went and dropped it They said I was a spastic
Oh, dreidel, dreidel, dreidel! I made it out of plastic I bent to pick it up And I busted my elastic
I have a little dreidel I made it out of lead But then one day I ate it I almost fell down dead
Oh, dreidel, dreidel, dreidel! I made it out of lead And ever since I ate it No brains left in my head
I have a little dreidel I made it out of pewter But I don't like to play it I'd rather play computer
Oh, dreidel, dreidel, dreidel! I made it out of pewter It's such a stupid game Not like a first-person shooter
. . . sorry, I'm twelve.
Sunday, November 23, 2008
Monday, November 10, 2008
And by moment, I mean three and a half minutes. And by Zen, I mean WTF.
Arlo Guthrie singing Tzena Tzena. I would have embedded it for you guys, but embedding has been disabled for this video.
Those of you without a Zionist upbringing may miss the intrinsic hilarity.
(Edited to fix link)
Thursday, November 6, 2008
So I've been telling people that I'm going to vote for Gaydamak in the upcoming Jerusalem municipal elections, for two reasons:
1) Meir Porush and Nir Barkat both piss me off, and
2) Gaydamak looks like a Bond villain, talks like a Bond villain, and has the personal history of a Bond villain, and Jerusalem could use a death ray.
So I got a flyer in the mail today with Gaydamak (and his slate of city council candidates, running on the Social Justice ticket)'s platform. And . . . it doesn't suck. I mean, some of the things on it are a bit vague, or pie-in-the-sky, but there's nothing on there that I actually disagree with, let alone find personally offensive (unlike the fliers I got from MEretz and Yisrael Beitenu). And hey! Improved accesibility for handicapped people! Equal pay for women who work for the municipalty! Expanded social and cultural actvities in the secular, religious, haredi, and Arab communities!
Also, the number two on the city council slate, Avi Kostolitz, will totally one day have a descendant who will be nasty and dismissive towards Miles Vorkosigan, causing him to fail his entrance exam to the Imperial Military academy, and ultimately becoming responsible for the creation of Admiral Naismith. How cool is that?
On the minus side: Arms dealing to Angloa. Also, homophobia.
On balance I guess I can live with that.
Wednesday, October 15, 2008
Uriel has been watching a lot of Thomas the Tank Engine lately. Tonight's episode featured an irate stationmaster's wife [1] of such awesomeness that I had to make her my new food icon, even though it meant 1) breaking my rule about no humans in user icons and 2) replacing the cheese icon harpoholic made for me.
My new icon is worth it, though! In celebration, have a honey cake recipe! ( Honey cake. For those who, like me, can't stand honey cake. )
[1] The wife was irate, not the stationmaster.
Monday, September 22, 2008
Yesterday I made a honey cake for Rosh Hashana.
Now, I never do this. Rosh Hashana isn't for another week. dhole's mother and sisters may have been cooking for Rosh Hashana for the last month, but I occasionally go really crazy and start cooking two days before the holiday, rather than the day before which is my usual mode of operation.
The reason I made a honey cake yesterday was not because I uncharacteristically decided to get a jump on things, but because Uriel wanted to do some baking. Or in his words, "Want to make one cup sugar."
Also, this morning I was talking to Uriel about how we spent last Rosh Hashana with his aunt, uncle, and cousins. "Remember how much fun you had playing with Chana?" I asked.
"Want to play with all the cars," he answered.
He does remember!
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
Tuesday, September 2, 2008
Not doing anything on Friday, Sept. 12th, in the late morning/early afternoon?
Want to hear my sister talk about her comics, buy some, and get them signed?
Live in Tel Aviv, or are willing and able to come to Tel Aviv?
You're in luck!
jobink! q+a and signing: an exclusive sale and signing of the not-yet-released jobnik! graphic novel, following a q+a with freelance journalist lisa goldman and the creator.
Date: Friday, September 12, 2008 Time: 11:00am - 3:00pm Location: Comics 'n' Vegetables Street: 40 King George Street City/Town: Tel Aviv-Yafo, Israel
Everyone come! Don't make Miriam answer Lisa's questions to an audience of empty chairs! I mean you, fantasyjax (assuming you're in the country)! Srsly!
Sunday, August 24, 2008
Uriel found his rain boots in a drawer and wanted to put them on, so we did.
"These boots are too small," he said. (They're not; they were too big when we bought them last winter, but it was the smallest size available.)
"That must be uncomfortable for you," I said.
"These boots are too ludden," he said.
"Is too ludden also uncomfortable, or is it just unattractive?" I asked.
"Want to go in a tractor," he replied.
Navigate: (Previous 20 entries)
|
|