August 3, 2012
So, a few things.
First, Street Fighter is 25. What the hell. Thanks, Wil Wheaton.
I’m out of rant for today about big things and important things other than asking what you, my readers, are doing to make your world a better place. A shout out to Nerdfighteria, who are working diligently to lower world suck every day. Unfortunately I cannot fully call myself a nerdfighter as I hold myself to some pretty ridiculous philosophical and ethical positions and many of those in the Nerdfighter ranks would find me disturbed for it. But that should be obvious as it would be really difficult for me to find anything redeeming about someone who claims to be anti-feminist and I know there’s a couple nerdfighters out there that to. Mostly thanks to the Men’s Rights Movement.
Speaking of the Men’s Rights Movement, fuck you. I’m personally sick and tired of the bullshit on Reddit, I’m sick and tired of the bullshit around FreeThought Blogs and Skepchick, I’m tired of the bullshit of these people trying to speak for me.
I am a man. I’m a cisman. I’m a cisgendered white man. I am a pansexual, omnisexual, bisexual cisgendered white man. Everyone from DJ Groethe to the director of CFI Canada to A Voice For Men are full of shit and using authority borrowed from their professional station (or from whimsy and fantasy, AVFM) to speak about things they both have no education in and no authority in. They do not represent me. They do not speak for me. They do not even speak rationally. All of the things in this discussion that we’re fighting over, from harassment policies to rape culture to women? A lot of these cultural elements have been proven in sociological studies. If they’d bother to check.
So yeah, Men’s Rights Movement? Fuck your face with a hedge-trimmer.
An update on those things that are important to me, as a philosophical stance. I am an atheist, I am an antitheist, I am a feminist, I am a liberal. All of these stances come from observation, data, and science. I’m willing to discuss any of these positions with anyone so long as you are not a bad actor. So far I haven’t had to even think of a comment policy yet (cue cut to comment section with two comments and a tumbleweed) but you can rest assured that if you come in and start arguing in bad faith, you start trolling, or you start using this as a platform for something then I’m going to delete your comments. I’m unemployed and disabled. I have the time to do this.
Speaking of being unemployed and disabled, I’m also homeless! However, the place I was living in was sapping me of everything involved in the will to live, so I’m happier right now. However, if anyone in Southern California knows of a furnished room on the cheap I can rent for a few months, I’d love to know. I’m trying to get my family to help me with a motel room until I can find a permanent place to live but they’re being…unreliable. I’ve got a friend who might have a place for me in a few months but until then I’m sleeping on a couch and it’s hell on my back. And all my other joints. Plus, privacy? What’s that? So yeah, my crowd of two, please help me find a place to crash for a bit.
Uh, what else. Working on two new short stories right now but it’s hard coming from the place I was in. Currently theorizing a story about a Steampunk China if the Opium Wars had never ended. Enjoy history? China? The Victorian period? Imperialism? Anything related to this? Send me snippets of information, data, what have you and I’ll boil them down into a few story ideas. I’m thinking of watching Ip Man and Ip Man 2 again for some inspiration. And because they’re fantastic martial arts movies.
Now I’m going to go back to missing my partner like a love struck fool, relaxing my back, and trying to come up with ideas.
Happy Esther day.
July 22, 2012
I didn’t know him when I sat down, but by the time I got up I’m pretty sure I did.
I came in around midnight, I’d been driving all night with my boyfriend to get to Seattle in time for a convention we were working at. He was passed out in the passenger seat and I was starving, so when I saw the lit sign just off of the freeway, I pulled off to grab a burger.
At the bar, facing the cook and eating a single piece of pumpkin pie was a man. He was small, broad, and slumped over his plate. Dressed in a pair of slacks, running shoes, and a wool coat with long, knotted hair splayed down his back. I sat a few seats down from him and ordered by burger, than said hi.
He smiled, a weak and soft smile. A heavy smile. I asked him about why he was so sad.
“I’m not sad.” He said, slowly and carefully, as if each word were brand new and still had sharp edges on them. “I’m just tired. It’s been a long, hard road.”
July 15, 2012
So this is getting placed in the middle of NFTAP2 to establish a history for a few things I want to work with later. This isn’t the only large scale edit I’m going to be doing to NFTAP2.
So, here we go!
July 11, 2012
I want to tell you a story. I want to tell you my story. I want to tell you why I need your help, as my readers and followers and fellow writers, to piece my life together. I want to tell you the story of why I haven’t written in a while and why my writing is spotty (and why it seems like my capabilities as a writer seem to fluctuate rather wildly). I want to tell you a story about why almost none of the work here is edited and why I disappear every night until the following afternoon on the social networks many of you connect with me on. I want to tell you a story of suffering, of persistence, and of survival.
This is the story of my life, my disability, and my struggle. And this is the beginning of your story where you do something small to save someone and keep an artist in the world.
July 3, 2012
Here’s some more work for you in my Cattlepunk setting.
Please share my blog with anyone you know who might be interested! I could really use the views and the interaction of some new readers!
June 27, 2012
Eighty years ago, things changed.
Eighty years ago, the Great Kingdoms were attacked by the Famine and people died. Civilization died. Things changed.
Eighty years ago, the mountains shook and shuddered and rumbled. Down from the peaks came whole clouds of the Famine-Flyers. Insects as big as a fist that’d eat anything. Especially steel. Especially the flesh and armor of the great Knights, our Heroes, our Kings. They ate up all of the defenses and all of our food until we adapted. Until things changed.
Eighty years ago, the Famine started. It lasted for five years and killed nine in ten. If not from the Famine-Flyers, from the starvation. From the cold. From the fear. Now things have changed and the world’s moved on. The knights and soldiers carry hard iron now. The wizards and will-workers use science and genius to supplement their magics, since the world is weak and faithless. Clerics have taken up The Black and the serve the Saints in their own ways, burying the dead and healing the sick. Trappers, Trackers, and Scouts have taken up the Rifle to claim the land back from the Famine-Flyers – even if it is just a desert now. The common people have had to become hard-bitten and competent, honing their skills to razors. And over them all are the Marshals, keeping the peace and serving the Righteous Law since the Temple Knights all died fighting the Famine.
Things changed, the world’s harder now. But we get along.
Read the rest of this entry »
June 18, 2012
Not entirely sure what I want to do with this yet, but I’m enjoying the character.
I don’t know where to fit this in, but this is what our Dr. Richard Washington looks like.
He is a taller man, nearly six feet in height, and built broadly and strongly. He is in good shape, having studied wrestling, boxing, and fencing in college alongside his adoptive brothers. He dresses in an understated manner that was common of his father, pressed black or brown slacks and light-colored collared shirts of good cut with a rich colored vest over it. He is not frequently seen outside of his heavy brown coat, a gift from his father before he died when Richard was a child, and still carries a pocketwatch despite wrist watches being the current style. He has taken up the wearing of a fedora, like many fashionable men, and keeps his normally unruly hair pulled tightly back into a braid to ensure his hair is not mussed too badly by dry air or the humid environment under the hat. Due to his dark skin, many styles of jewelry look garish in his eyes when he wears them. The only adornment he has is a simple white gold wedding band on his left hand. His face is gentle and stern, clearly creased with his experience as a professor of anthropology, but his hazel eyes glint with a sense of adventure and intelligence.
So, here’s the beginning of Dr. Washington’s story…
June 7, 2012
I totally missed posting yesterday and that’s my fault.
So here’s more Out of Thyme! Technically this is a followup to the last chapter posted, and after this I’ll be writing a new chapter for Out of Thyme. Between the last post and this one, as well, is probably going to be more fighting. Because I like writing fight scenes but I just couldn’t wrap my head around this one.
June 4, 2012
Hah! Haven’t seen this one in a while, have you? Well, here it is. I didn’t do a whole chapter of exposition. Yet. That’ll be the next chapter. It was fun to go back into Jarvis’ shoes, though, especially since I’ve been working in a lot of different things lately. I’m also cooking up a few ideas for a new urban fantasy story called A Worn Cloak and it will be the new (modern, Orange County based) story for Roland Argyle. I’ll let you guys wonder what the gimmick is for my urban fantasy idea this time around.
Also, today is my 26th birthday! Yay me!
Without further ado…