Embrace the Fire Indestructible

The Longest Weeks

miakodachepi@gmail.com (miakoda) — Thu, 04 Mar 2010 06:02:00 +0000

It's been a very, very long two weeks, full of deadlines and surprise/emergency projects, two classes, missed meetings, insomnia, panicking students and lots and lots of venting and anger from multiple directions. Everyone's nerves are frayed, and all I really want to do is stay home and sleep for a week.

Even gaming sounds too much like work right now.

For the last three days I've eaten lunch in my car, with the windows rolled down a bit. Funny how a car can feel like a hothouse even in 40-degree weather if the sun's out. For that matter, it's funny how a couple of 40-degree days with sunshine feel like a heatwave after the winter we've had. Today I even went for a drive over lunch, just to get away.

The sun is helping a little. Will is also trying very hard to keep me from crashing; I still find it a little bewildering how well we balance each other. I've also watched the new OK Go video about four times. I'm not the world's biggest fan of their music, but I have to admit this and the treadmill video are pretty amazing -- and handy when you just need to unfocus for a bit.

We were amused to see HIM as the featured artist on X-Box live today, as well. I love them dearly, but they really don't strike me as a band that would be popular amongst the XBL set. [Side note: The HIM pack for Rock Band was labled "01", so that may mean there are more in the future. Hopefully with some of the older songs?]

Time to try that sleeping thing again. But before I do:

Okay, week: you have two days to make up for the last 10. You have been warned.

Queen of Crows on Sale

miakodachepi@gmail.com (miakoda) — Wed, 03 Mar 2010 16:53:00 +0000

Psst.

I am told there's a GM's Day Sale going on in ebook land. What does this mean to you? Why, it means The Queen of Crows is available at 25% off through Sunday, March 7.

So! If you've been debating whether to pick up the story, now's a good time to do so. Support your favorite independent artists -- at about $3.75, it's both cheaper than a Starbuck's grande caramel macchiato, and more fulfilling. ;)

The Queen of Crows: Available 3/1

miakodachepi@gmail.com (miakoda) — Mon, 01 Mar 2010 22:58:00 +0000

Today, The Queen of Crows was unleashed on an unsuspecting world. (I don't mean you, of course. You are obviously the handsomest and cleverest of all pandas, suspecting things left and right, hither and yon! It must be so, if you are perusing Monica's blogs over breakfast, and chasing down your evening snack with my own humble little scribblepad.)

But what is The Queen of Crows?, ask the poor, confused pandas who have just wandered in from the bamboo forest. It is, of course, a digital-release short story by my good friend Monica Valentinelli. The story is full of magic and bones and fire and revenge, set on the eve of the real-life horror known as the Navajo Long Walk, and it is delicious.

In addition to the story, Monica has packed a selection of other goodies into the PDF: an original portrait by artist Leanne Buckley, author's notes on the story inspiration and her concerns on writing historical fiction based in another culture, a brief discussion about the main character, a crash course on her Violet War setting, and more.

Plus, you get my fabulous cover! And interior layout. And editing. Yes. So be a good panda and go download The Queen of Crows, won't you?

Anatomy of Kaiju

miakodachepi@gmail.com (miakoda) — Wed, 24 Feb 2010 16:46:00 +0000

No, not Steve (god, Steve!). The other kaiju. Mythic fiction author and editor Midori Snyder posted an article on her blog this morning about Yōkai Daizukai, an illustrated encyclopedia of Japanese monsters. Intrigued, I checked out her source, (pinktentacle.com):

authored by manga artist Shigeru Mizuki, [it] features a collection of cutaway diagrams showing the anatomy of 85 traditional monsters from Japanese folklore (which also appear in Mizuki’s GeGeGe no Kitarō anime/manga).

I'm incredibly amused by the preview entries. But it only makes sense ... the only thing that rivals the Japanese aesthetic for bizarre creatures is the old D&D Monster Manual. I wonder if there's a correlation there ... perhaps Gygax and crew consumed too much wasabi at some point, and it pickled their brains. That would explain the Rust Monster, wouldn't it?

For the record, the Kijimunaa is much cuter in Devil Survivor. (Really, what would a Shin Megami game be without fairy-demons?)

Fun OCW Classes at ND

miakodachepi@gmail.com (miakoda) — Mon, 22 Feb 2010 22:16:00 +0000

Did you know Notre Dame has a free, non-credited, online class in Creole Language and Culture? Or one on Reinveting the Fairy Tale? Crime, Heredity and Insanity in American History could be fun, too.

I find these ... intriguing.

IU Press 1-day sale: 60% off

miakodachepi@gmail.com (miakoda) — Tue, 16 Feb 2010 19:31:00 +0000

Wow, three posts in one day. (Am I having trouble focusing at work? Why yes -- yes, I am.)

Kaiju very kindly sent this over a little while ago:

IU Press is having a 60th anniversary sale tomorrow (the 17th). All regularly-priced books, journals, and DVDs are 60% off regular price. Shipping is free over $25. Use the code SIXTY at checkout.

http://iupress.typepad.com/blog/2010/02/one-week-until-our-60th-anniversary-online-sale.html

If you click on the link to their Books section at the left of that page, you can see the various categories -- say, for example, Myth and Folklore...

Airship pirates, back to work, and the Queen of Crows

miakodachepi@gmail.com (miakoda) — Tue, 16 Feb 2010 18:43:00 +0000

Will was right. There is something amusing about blasting Abney Park's Aether Shanties while trying to navigate the winter roads of Northern Indiana. A pirate airship would definitely fare better in this weather than my Corolla.

Yesterday was the first day back to work. It does suck, not being able to take the pain meds during the day. Both for the obvious reasons and for the fuzziness and exhaustion that follow during the evening. Unfortunately I've been back in insomnia mode for the last two nights, as well, so evidently all that recuperating last week used up my sleep minutes. Bah.

In less grumpifying news, I mentioned in an earlier post that the fabulous Monica Valentinelli drafted me to do editing, typesetting, and the cover illustration for her Queen of Crows project, which has been great fun. I'm slowly plugging away at my end -- even more slowly now that I've been essentially out of commission for a week -- but there has been progress. (For those who are either new to EFI, or may have stumbled across this post in a fit of whimsy, QoC is a short story set in the world of Monica's very cool Violet War novel-in-progress, Argentum. I do recommend checking it out if you get a chance.)

Artist Leanne Buckley is providing the character art for the QoC character, so I'm really looking forward to seeing how it matches up to the image evoked by Monica's writing. (M. herself seems thrilled with what she's seen so far.) More details will follow soon on that project -- but in the meantime, here's a peek at the cover I did for the story (click to embiggen):

Mind you, I'll be the first to confess I'm more of a writer/editor/typesetter/webmonkey than a graphic designer. I do like to play with Adobe programs, though, and this was a lot of fun, so I'm glad she talked me into it. I think it turned out pretty well (for an amateur!).

Finally, this blog will be getting an overhaul in the next few weeks if I have time. There is much reorganizing and re-templating to be done. (I believe the Violet War site will see its revision first, though, so I'll post here when Monica has the new site up and running.)

Grammar geekery

miakodachepi@gmail.com (miakoda) — Tue, 16 Feb 2010 16:20:00 +0000

It's all worth it for the last panel. (Click to embiggen.)

(Bitches!)

Owww. Stupid February.

miakodachepi@gmail.com (miakoda) — Wed, 10 Feb 2010 01:44:00 +0000

In the space of two weeks, I've slipped twice on slick pavement and fallen to my doom. Today's adventure was bad enough it involved workman's comp, X-rays to check for fractures, crutches, and narcotics. (After the fall, not before.)

I think February has it in for me this year.

Luckily I was scheduled to be off campus tomorrow anyway, at another Illustrator class. I found out today that I can dial in and take the class from home, if all goes well. Otherwise, I have a doctor's permission to stay home the rest of the week. I may take him up on that, considering how battered and bruised I'm currently feeling.

Unfortunately that also means so far canceling a hair apt., and missing a boba tea date with Cher Mere. And sending Will and Charlie to fetch my car from work before it gets irretrievably plowed in.

I think we're still waiting for the rest of the winter storm that caused this mess, too. I will be watching it from the comfy, comfy couch.

Good news on the house front, we finally have a contractor, who has worked twice this week. And that means we have ceilings again, and insulation upstairs. Woot.

Geek of the Week

miakodachepi@gmail.com (miakoda) — Tue, 02 Feb 2010 16:06:00 +0000

A very quick note: Lowell Francis is officially the Geek of the Week. No, really.

Hint: If you go to RPG Geek / GeekDo and post questions on that thread, I'm pretty sure he's legally required to answer them. Several of his players have already joined the RPGG regulars in attempting to whittle his typing fingers down to nubs.

And now ... back to impossible deadlines.

If things don't work out, you can always go to law school

miakodachepi@gmail.com (miakoda) — Wed, 27 Jan 2010 04:01:00 +0000

The best poem I've heard all week.

via Geeks Are Sexy

Musings On: Haiti Fascination

miakodachepi@gmail.com (miakoda) — Wed, 27 Jan 2010 03:46:00 +0000

Notes on Haiti.

Quick and easy donation methods -- because donations are dropping as the story begins to fade from media focus:

SMS text “YELE” to 501501 to Donate $5 to Yele Haiti’s Earthquake Relief efforts. Yéle Haiti is a non-religious charity founded by musician Wyclef Jean.
SMS text “HAITI” to 501501 to Donate $10 to Yele Haiti’s Earthquake Relief efforts.
SMS text “HAITI” to 90999 to donate $10 to Red Cross relief efforts
Gamers, pay attention: DriveThruRPG is offering over $1,000 worth of PDF product for a $20 donation through their site.

Yéle Haiti posted some interesting numbers regarding the current situation today. The numbers are daunting, in so many ways, but they do drive home the fact that this will be a long-term effort.

Haiti has fascinated me since 7th grade, when I first stumbled across a Zora Neale Hurston book lying out on a table at the IUSB library (it was Tell My Horse: Voodoo and Life in Haiti and Jamaica, by the way). Someday, I would love to see the waterfalls at Saut d'Eau, visit the Citadel, and spend a week at a Vodou peristyle, feeling the drums and chants pound through my chest, and marveling at the delicate lines of a vévé drawn in cornmeal or rust.

It's sad that the artistry is almost always overshadowed by stories of corrupt politicians and our modern cultural myths about the depravity of Vodou. I always find myself pausing with envy when I come across sites featuring those amazing flags of the loas. I have a calabash decorated with Erzulie's vévé on my cabinet at work (one of the student organizations was selling trinkets from Haiti a few years ago, and evidently thought either the heart was merely harmless decoration, or chose to believe it represented one of the loa's many Catholic analogs). I also have a candle with Papa Legba's vévé on my shelf of treasures, although I can't remember where I got that. (Funny, about that -- I was actually looking for one dedicated to the Baron or Maman Brigitte, but somehow the gatekeepers and keepers of crossroads are always the ones I find first.)

Why the fascination with the culture inspired by what many see as a "primitive" religion? Haitian Vodou and it's diaspora cousins (Candomblé, Obeah, etc.) are living, breathing religions -- blood and bone and earth and spirit. They are ecstatic spirituality at their core, visceral, immediate and pervasive, and they have absorbed and adapted in ways that should (IMO) make the Big Monotheisms seethe with envy. (Well. I suppose some monotheists are seething, but most definitely not for the right reasons.) I strongly believe faith ought to be a mixture of learned information (from teachers, books, other practitioners, etc.) and personal experience. If I adhered to anything like a traditional religion, it would probably be one of these.

On a related note, I find the sheer arrogance and stupidity of Robertson and his ilk infuriating, to say nothing of the opportunistic scavengers scrambling to ship Bibles down to Haiti for all the poor souls "hungering for the Word of God," or putting together aid to be exchanged for conversions of convenience. I'm sure they think they're bringing comfort to those who need it, when they're only adding insult to injury -- literally, in this case. And yes, this is a particularly sore spot with me. My father's church made great use of convenient conversion tactics -- they were exceedingly proud that their "Feed the Hungry" program only fed Christian children.

So. Vodou gets a lot of flack and disrespect from the missionary contingent, but the reality is that it's a religion of hope, community, and honoring the spirits and those who have gone before. Contrary to popular belief, Vodouisants do, in most cases, believe in a single creator god; it's just that the loa are a few levels closer to us. They're the ones who actually Pay Attention to the little people down here on Earth; they're the ones dealing with the day-to-day work. Which is why their mapping of loa to Catholic saints seems to be pretty spot-on to this non-Catholic girl, IMO.

In any case. I continue to watch the coverage because I can't look away. It's heart-wrenching and sad, and yet ... there's a chance, here, for Haiti to remake itself. I sincerely hope they can do so, with the world's help, and still dance to the beat of their own drummers.

Chillin' at home

miakodachepi@gmail.com (miakoda) — Sat, 09 Jan 2010 21:24:00 +0000

Recuperating after a wicked exhausting week. It's been a long, long time coming, but I think things are finally starting to look up at work. There are a lot of interesting projects in the works -- about half of the projects on my grand to-do list are my idea, and half are from the new deans who've asked for my help on one thing or another. All of them will involve some form of geekery, so I'm looking forward to digging in.

Also handed off a 19-page doc to my boss this week that included a project log, to-do list, arguments on why my job needs to be restructured, and the four other positions I'm applying for. After taking a few days to digest the info, she came back with an encouraging response, so I'm working on draft two this weekend.

Speaking of work, I'm also working with The Monica on layout and design for a Violet War story project, and was approached by another program on campus to do some freelance work on their behalf. I have a couple of weeks at most to put together a workshop, modified style template, and procedural guidelines. And then we're going to tackle how they archive these projects, because they will contain patent-application materials that will need to be restricted to secured access. (I'm hoping to spread that luck around a bit, as well, since they also need writing help for their students, and I happen to know a freelance writer and editor with graduate/academic experience...)

It's almost like 2010 is apologizing for 2009. I ... accept. I think we're off to a good start, here.

In other news, a good friend shared a fun vid of a Glee-based flashmob in Rome over the holidays:

The fascinating part for me in the vid is how the flashmob grows, the longer it goes on, as if people who weren't in on the plan start to join in around the edges.

I don't think I've mentioned this previously, but I came across an excellent myth- and folklore-related blog late last year by author Kate Winter. Titled Girls Underground, it's Kate's attempt to explore the Persephone/Armless Maiden story archetypes in popular culture. I've been drawn to these stories since I was a kid, so I'm excited by the prospect of a writer paying close attention to those heroines.

So tired...

miakodachepi@gmail.com (miakoda) — Fri, 08 Jan 2010 02:06:00 +0000

It's been an exhausting week, and today was the worst of it. The snow-madness outside isn't helping much. I was ready to crawl into bed when I got home from work. However! The Monica has asked me to help out with a story she's going to be posting for sale soon.

Hurray for layout projects! They are my favorite. To me, text formatting is like ... a crossword puzzle, of sorts. Relaxing, finicky, tricksy and a good excuse to exercise the channel all the typesetting-perfectionist tendencies I try not to unleash on dissertation students. (I'm not sure they'd believe me if I told them that, though...)

The Monica has also asked me to assist with graphics and cobbling together a cover. This sounds fun, but is Very Hard Work when you're falling asleep and thinking half-awake thoughts about yetis and cookies (not necessarily in that order) as you peruse stock imagery sites. Hm. Perhaps I should put the perusal off until the weekend...

Good Riddance, 2009

miakodachepi@gmail.com (miakoda) — Thu, 31 Dec 2009 22:52:00 +0000

The Long, Drawn-Out Demise of 2009 (or, it's about freaking time)

I, for one, am not sorry to see it go. Here's hoping 2010 decides it's quite content offering good fortune, health and gleeful amusement. We could all use a bit of that. At the very least, I'm hoping 2010 grows up to be a pleasant sort rather than the snarky, greedy, underhanded bitch 2009 turned out to be.

As an example. Mom and I went to the Grape Rd. Barnaby's on a whim the other day. Now, we both love Barnaby's downtown. But this ... I can safely say it was the worst pizza I've ever had. Ever. It was teeming with soul-crushing disappointment masquerading as greasy pizza and rancid onions. We made off with handfuls of their peppermint candy canes just to rid ourselves of the taste. That right there, that's pure 2009 in action.

And that is all I have to say about that.

Media Musings

miakodachepi@gmail.com (miakoda) — Thu, 31 Dec 2009 22:42:00 +0000

Music

Amazon is having a $5 MP3 album sale, so I snagged a few I've been meaning to pick up and hadn't gotten around to -- Lacuna Coil's Shallow Life, Otep's Smash the Control Machine and Bat for Lashes' Fur and Gold.

(Aside: Will informs me he heard Otep on local radio on the way back from picking up his car. Huh. It's about time they got airplay around here.)

It was interesting to note the presence of the Fever Ray album on both John Allison's and Jason Pitzl-Waters's top album lists for 2009, but I'm still trying to figure out why. (Follow the link to John Allison's blog for samples.) I like the idea in my head, but my heart barely gives it a shrug before heading off blithely to be crushed by the disappointment that is the newest Faith and the Muse CD. Honestly, Fever Ray's music is fine, I suppose, but Karin sounds like a less squeaky Bjork, to me. Then again, I'm not exactly a connoisseur of indie music. I still haven't made it all the way through The Hazards of Love while conscious, as much as it pains me to admit it. Colin's voice grates on me and induces a serious zone-out effect after a while.

Movies

Moving on. We watched Ink (trailer: here) the other day -- it's an indie film, an amazing little modern story about a little girl and her father, and their entanglement with the bringers of dreams (Storytellers) and the bringers of nightmares (Incubi). I loved it; it manages to combine fast-paced action with surreal artistic sequences to great effect, despite the indie production, and the sound direction was spot-on, IMO. Unfortunately, because we watched it on Hulu, the movie was broken up periodically by a commercial, so that threw the pacing in some places.

Highlights:

Loved the environmental stasis effect in the first confrontation sequence
Jacob the Pathfinder manages to steal the show in several spots; he's definitely the character I found most intriguing despite my initial reaction to him
It has a sequence that is possible the best on-screen example of fate magic, ever
I found the incubi suitably creepy, and found myself wishing the leader of the Assembly had gotten more screen time

Lowlights:

Suffers a tiny bit from shaky camera syndrome in spots and some of the combat scenes are a bit hard to make out
The world mythology is rich enough that I actually would have preferred more of that and less of the main character
The little girl's dad is a jerk ... but I can understand why, at least

I was less pleased with the ending than the rest of the movie, but will refrain from commenting for fear of spoilage. (The ending certainly didn't ruin the rest of the movie for me.) If anyone else has seen it, I'd be interested in hearing their thoughts.

Also finally saw UP, thanks to Edige and Auzumel. For anyone who hasn't seen it, I recommend the UPular Remix by DJ Pogo. Though I confess I can't make out a lot of the "lyrics," it's the remixing of the vocal track bits into musical notes that makes UPular interesting.

I'd still like to see Sherlock Holmes, and probably Avatar, at some point. (I just can't get excited about Avatar for some reason...) Also, the 2008 Swedish vampire flick, Let the Right One In. They are on the Things to Do list. Mom informs me that It's Complicated is hi-larious, as well, and she insists that I must watch it. We shall see.

Randomosity: Pretty Things

miakodachepi@gmail.com (miakoda) — Tue, 15 Dec 2009 06:00:00 +0000

It's been a while, and there have been many things I just haven't had the time or energy to type over the last few weeks. So let's ease back into this with some eye candy.

First, because Mutate posted a video I don't want to lose. It reminds me of the insanity of Paranoia Agent's opening credits, for some reason.

Also, a Steampunk Praying Mantis sculpture. If I had the $475 to toss the artist's way, it would so be mine.

More later.

Randomosity: The Line

miakodachepi@gmail.com (miakoda) — Thu, 19 Nov 2009 05:41:00 +0000

Klint over at Renegade Futurist or Mutate! or whatever he's calling his blog these days posted a link to Subnormality, which has now fascinated me for hours as I've backtracked through the archives. The site is subtitled, "Comix with too many words" for a reason, but his musings on what makes someone "weird" made for a good read. Every middle school student should be made to read it at least once in their alienated, fraught little lives.

Likewise, The Line ought to be mandatory reading for every high school student. Didn't read it? Do not collect diploma. Do not pass Go. That is all.

The creator is a mad genius. The comic is like some sort of fucked up love-child of Tatsuya Ishida, Grant Morrison, and Warren Ellis, with occasional guest art by R. Crumb.

And now that I've planted that mental seed, it's off to bed. Sweet dreams!

"Buch der Balladen"

miakodachepi@gmail.com (miakoda) — Sun, 15 Nov 2009 07:23:00 +0000

I just found out one of my favorite bands, Faun, has a new CD coming out this month. There's a limited edition version being released ... but only in Germany. Sigh.

I don't get to dust off the German very often, except for singing "Perfekte Welle" in Rock Band. The last time I used it, oddly enough, was also to track down some Faun discs that I couldn't find via US retailers. Luckily, I'm still on that shop's mailing list, and they happen to be the official online vendor for the band, as well.

It is interesting, carrying on a conversation in a foreign language I never really use. I can only imagine the native speakers on the other end are giggling at my screwed-up gender suffixes and whatnot, but just as they were before, they're extremely polite and helpful. Sadly, Ines told me their copies of the LE disc are already sold out, so I either have to settle for the normal version (minus the bonus track and hardcover booklet) or ... order through Amazon.de.

I wasn't aware the various Amazon shops actually share a login database, but apparently, they do. I can sign into the German site with my normal email and password, and it's got all my shipping info, etc. Now I just have to decide whether I really want to fork over the $43 for the CD + shipping or wait and hope that the normal version gets imported via Dancing Ferret at some point.

New SMT on the horizon

miakodachepi@gmail.com (miakoda) — Thu, 05 Nov 2009 22:27:00 +0000

/Squee!

What is that, you say? Why is this cause for glee?

Why, it is a new Shin Megami Tensei game for the DS. It comes out in February 2010. And the writeup compares it to SMT: Nocturne, which is officially The Best Game Ever Made. And really, that's all I needed to know.

It will be mine. Oh yes. I am counting the days already.

Happy belated calendar Samhain and other news

miakodachepi@gmail.com (miakoda) — Mon, 02 Nov 2009 16:26:00 +0000

I had the week off for Samhain, and it was nice ... really, really nice. No work email, no phone calls, no coming in on my days off. Just lots of relaxing with Will, some board games, some Rock Band, catching up on what little TV we watch, that sort of thing. (Will did get totally addicted to the Deathnote anime. Hee.) Oddly, though, we never got around to carving our pumpkins (sorry, "punkins" ... we are in Indiana), and I never did the fall cleaning or the memorial altar. Never made it out the gravesites, either. I think I just desperately needed some decompression time, and even my minor observances felt like too much work this year.

We did finally get to tour the lair of Zombie 0 and her family on Friday evening, which was really neat, though I couldn't stay as long as I would have liked. One of my co-workers showed up just as we were getting ready to leave, which was a pleasant surprise. (Cher Mere, I hope your leg is feeling better!)

The Monica has a great memory-jogging article on Bram Stoker's Dracula posted at Cracked.com. I haven't seen the movie in years, but since it (and several others I can safely call "classics," now) are posted for free on the site, I might have to check out a few. I wish I'd figured that out during my week off. Ah well.

Also, apparently Evn is Wicca's David Hasslehoff. My computer and I are so, so glad I wasn't drinking coffee when I read that.

In game news, we had a makeup Changeling game last week, followed by our usual session of Libri Vidicos, but sadly I wasn't feeling well on Halloween, and so didn't get to sit in on the Wushu game Saturday as I'd hoped (Edige was kind enough to extend the invitation on that). It sounds like a very entertaining group. Ah well. Will has also begun a one-player Mage: The Awakening game for me so we can try out the system and flesh out his setting a bit. We just had the first session last night -- it was a lot of fun, but he refuses to run it for me every night. Clearly I'm doing something wrong, here. ~.~

Fiction: Breaking Tradition

miakodachepi@gmail.com (miakoda) — Wed, 14 Oct 2009 04:36:00 +0000

Back in 2007, a friend and I experimented with keyword fiction -- we took turns coming up with random keywords and then tried to make a short story out of them. (We'd done this for our Iron GM challenges on our old gamer board, the Village, and that was a lot of fun, so that was where the idea came from.)

In any case, going through some old files tonight, I found one of my keyword fics. I haven't re-read it since I finished it, apparently, but it's interesting to go through it again and be able to spot some of my own quirks in the writing of the thing -- particular phrases, descriptives, etc., that still manage to work their way into my more recent pieces. Also ... it's kind of rough, but there are some mental images I like, so I'm glad I didn't pitch it.

For this story, the keywords were "strange visitor, eclipse, military experiment, goth chick." Follow the breadcrumbs to read more.

Strange Visitor, Eclipse, Military Experiment, Goth Chick
2450 Words
8/07

Head swimming with beer and heat, Chris slipped around the heavy wooden door, gratefully escaping into the muggy July night -- still hot, but at least a slight breeze stirred the air. A few steps from the doorway, he paused, groaning, and leaned against the wall of the club. The rough brick felt cool against his cheek, and he could feel the pulse of the music seeping through the building's skin into his own veins. He closed his eyes and shivered; the effect was weirdly erotic and nauseating at the same time.

"Hey, man, got a dollar?"

He opened one eye and sought out the source of the words. The voice was gravelly and wet, a precursor to tirades of coughing that made his own chest tighten. Standing a few feet away was an older man, rail-thin and stooped. His stringy gray hair poked in wild patches through a holey knit cap, and the layers of clothing -- surely a recipe for heat exhaustion in this weather -- were dingy enough to discourage any color differences in the weak marquee lighting. The man's watery gray eyes were focused intently on him; his mouth pulled up in a slight grin despite fading tracks of tears marking each cheek.

Chris opened both eyes, giving himself a moment to adjust. "What for?" He winced at the dull echo of his own voice.

"Ain't gonna lie, 's a bottle o' Mad Dog down there wit' m'name onnit." The gap-toothed grin widened a fraction as he gestured vaguely toward the liquor store.

Chris nodded and fished a bill out of his pocket. Diane and her friends had pretty well wiped him out tonight, why not finish the job? He rolled to the right, placing his back against the wall, and offered the crumpled paper to the bum.

The bill vanished from his hand, and the older man's eyes lit up at the five. "Knew you'd unnerstand. Yer a good man. Hey." The bum straightened and stepped closer, eyes shifting from side to side conspiratorially. "Hey. Listen. If yer smart, y'll get outta sight. T'night's the night. Moon goes inta hiding and spooks come out. She comes out, too." He shuddered and dropped his voice. "Better the spooks than her, maybe, but I dunno for sure. Depends on her mood. Takes yer chances, anyhow."

The club doors opened, and a couple stumbled out, giggling and groping. The bum flinched and recoiled a few steps, then turned back to stare at Chris for a moment. "Ain't crazy, y'know. Ain't," he insisted. A wild spark lit his eyes, the warped reflection of the club lights, maybe. "Yer a good man. Better ya scoot, an' if she finds ya, don't let 'er in, but be polite. She's a lay-dee!" he whispered fiercely, using oddly precise enunciation on the last sentence. With a nervous glance at the sky, the man hunched inward, clutching the five, and crept off down the sidewalk.

Unable to stop himself, Chris glanced upward. Thick clouds had rolled in during the evening, and occasional flashes of lightning snaked through the storm cover. Of course the moon would be hidden tonight. He closed his eyes and exhaled, forcing himself to relax. Jesus. Either he'd had far too much beer tonight, or he'd just won the crazy bum lottery. Or both. Either way, home ... bed ... sounded good. He shoved his hand into his jeans pocket and groaned again as he came away with nothing but loose change. Of course. He'd just given away the last of his cash. No taxi.

Staring somewhat forlornly after the retreating bum, he debated going back into the club to call a friend for a ride, but finally rejected the idea. The thought of diving back into the stifling cacophony made his stomach lurch. He thought he remembered a pay phone down the street, though, at the all-night gas station a few blocks away. With a steadying breath, he rolled off the building and started walking, carefully guiding himself along the walls.

Noise from the club faded as he steadily drew further away, replaced only by the ebb and flow of traffic, and the occasional rumble of thunder. It was late enough that there were few cars on the road, now, mostly people on their way home from the bars, and a few unfortunates on third-shift lunch. As he walked, the breeze slowly leeched the alcohol from his brain, leaving him tired and nursing a slight buzz. After a few blocks, he narrowed his eyes against the glare ahead; the newly-remodeled Speedway was a garish oasis of light, all shiny new gas pumps and stadium lamps trapped under a canopy occupying nearly the entire end of the block.

Shielding his eyes from the harsh lights, Chris made his way to the pay phone on the edge of the property, thankful he didn't have to venture deeper into the tinny muzak echoing through the pump stations. He turned his back to the lights and rested for a moment against the phone box. The wind had picked up, but hopefully the storm would wait a few minutes more. Coins ... coins ... he retrieved a few from his pocket and leaned against the cool metal of the faceplate, searching for a coin slot. Ah, there -- his fingertips traced the outline of the hole. As he picked up the receiver to check for a dial tone, fat drops of rain began to splatter the sidewalk around him.

Cursing, he dropped the handset back into its cradle and turned his face upward. The drops were heavy, but felt blessedly cool against his skin.

"You probably shouldn't be out there. Lightning's attracted to metal, I hear."

Chris rubbed his eyes and glanced backward, toward the canopy. A young woman in a black sleeveless sundress and buckled boots stood dry below the overhang, watching him with a concerned expression. Her dark hair was caught up in a loose bun with wooden chopsticks, and the harsh lighting bleached her olive skin to a dirty tan. She waved him toward the canopy, then clasped her hands behind her. He wasn't sure how he'd missed her, a gothic smudge in the surreal brightness of the station.

"Yeah. Right." He sighed and pushed himself away from the phone box. Once he was out of the rain, he smiled weakly at her. "Sorry, it's been a long night."

She nodded, watching him. "You should be careful. There are scary things out tonight."

Chris paused, and looked at her more closely. She seemed about his age, maybe 25 or so. The makeup around her eyes might be a little heavy, and she had a definite drift toward the dark in her fashion statement, but she seemed sane enough, despite her words. "You're the second person to say that tonight."

A flicker of sadness crossed her face, and she nodded again, but said nothing. Chris shrugged and took a seat on the rounded edge of a cement planter at the periphery of the canopy. The wind peppered his back with errant rain, but he was still too warm, and didn't mind.

The woman stepped back without looking and balanced on a strip of cement at the end of a parking spot. They watched the rain for a few moments, until finally Chris let his curiosity get the better of him. "You waiting for the phone, too?"

She had been watching the cars, and seemed caught off guard by the question. "Phone? Oh. No, I'm waiting for someone." She nodded toward the street. "They should be along any time now."

"Boyfriend?"

She blinked, then laughed. Her voice was pleasant, he decided. Soothing and less grating than Diane's. And she had a perfect dimple when she smiled -- a true smile, without the sadness he'd sensed earlier. "No, not a boyfriend." She didn't offer any further explanation, but merely watched him for a moment as she balanced on one foot, hands still clasped behind her. "You're nice," she said finally. "My name's Lyssa."

He grinned tiredly and waved, trying to work out the best way to ask for her number. "Hi, Lyssa, I'm Chris. I apologize in advance if I say anything stupid. I had a bit to drink tonight."

Lyssa nodded, bemused. "I know. It's all right." Before she could say more, movement caught her eye, and her gaze shifted toward the gas station entrance. A white van, unmarked, with no back windows, rolled to a stop in front of the convenience store. She tilted her head slightly, as if to hear better, and the amusement abruptly drained from her expression, leaving an eerie blankness.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Chris. They're here."

With calm, fluid movements, she reached back and slipped the twin chopsticks from her hair; a sudden eddy of wind danced around her, and the loose curls whipped and writhed like snakes. When she turned back to Chris, her eyes had gone black as storm clouds. He shuddered as lightning arced across the sky, and then, several seconds later, reflected in her eyes, as if it had to travel great lengths to reach her.

The wind shifted again, and began pelting Chris with rain flung sideways under the canopy, each moment building a growing intensity. The drops, once fat and lazy, bit like needles, now. There was something very wrong here, he knew. It was in the crawl of his skin, the sinking feeling in his chest, the slow slide of reality cracking under pressure. And yet ... despite the urge to fling himself into the punishing rain and flee into the night, something had rooted him to the spot.

Behind the woman with night-black eyes -- Lyssa, was that what she'd said? -- a man opened the passenger side door and stepped out of the van, surveying his surroundings cautiously. He was dressed in military greens, though Chris couldn't say what branch. He carried himself with an assurance that spoke of experience, and after he noticed Chris and Lyssa on the other side of the canopy, he spoke to someone inside the van. The soldier couldn't see her eyes, though, Chris thought in a panic, and his fingers reflexively tightened on the edge of the planter.

He couldn't see the bottomless forever.

After a moment, the man nodded once and closed the door to the van. As the soldier walked into the station, Lyssa began to speak; like her movements, her voice was paradoxically calm and soothing, contrasting sharply against the storm around them.

"There are men who are stupid enough to play with the children of gods, as if this place were beneath the notice of the Others. They have been deceived by fools, and think to make weapons of stolen Names and bloodlines."

Oh ... shit. Chris felt his blood go cold as her words began to sink in. Obviously she was insane, too, but her eyes ... he shuddered, still unable to turn away, as the black orbs swallowed another stab of lightning. She whispered something in another language to the storm winds -- harsh and staccato, sounding vaguely Greek or Hungarian to his ears -- then the van lurched sideways behind her. Even over the wind and rain, he could hear sudden shouts and cursing as they erupted from within. The soldier inside the station paid chatted briefly with the clerk and paid for his purchase.

She turned slightly, to watch the scene behind her, but continued the bizarre narration. "These men do not understand; we are not governed by laws, but by the traditions etched into our Names. Traditions that can be re-written by those powerful enough. Understand, Lost One: earlier tonight, you showed compassion toward one of mine, and so I spare you my touch. I bear you no malice, nor do I harbor ill will toward your city. These men are my prey, and they alone; so it is that I break tradition and call upon the hidden light of Lady Selene to allow this son of Volos to shed captivity and his pain. This lesson," she continued, and shifted her weight to balance now on her left foot, "will be swift and brief." For all the formality in her words, she sounded as if she were reciting a grocery list.

On cue, the shouts gave way to shrill screams and the wail of torn metal pierced the storm. A throat-scraping, inhuman howl crescendoed as the van's movement turned violent, punctuated then by the ricochets of semi-automatic gunfire and the sound of shattering glass.

Chris watched, paralyzed, as realization dawned on the soldier inside the building, and the man dropped his purchase to throw open the glass doors, racing out with his sidearm drawn. Abruptly, the quivering van fell silent, and the wind just ... ceased. Something dark and wet and solid slid down the side of the van to land with a plop on the pavement below. Visibly shaking, and trying to keep his gun trained on the van, the man in fatigues cautiously approached the passenger side door and looked in through the shards of glass. He barely turned away before he doubled over to vomit. In the sudden quiet, the retching sound made Chris's stomach twist in sympathy.

As the soldier groped for his radio, Lyssa glanced back to Chris; with profound relief, he realized her eyes were just eyes. "You should go," she said. "The rain will continue a while, but you will find another phone. You do not want to be here when the other soldiers come to answer his call. I claim this one in the name of madness; he will not be contained as the wolf was."

"Con ... contained?" The howl. He glanced involuntarily at the van. Jesus, all that from a wolf? What the hell ...? "Who ... no, what are you?" Chris's voice was hoarse and cracked. His limbs felt watery and weak as he slipped off the planter and took a step backward.

Lyssa smiled, a melancholy gesture, and shook her head. He could see now the darkness of her hair was a rich, deep burgundy; the curls fell in hopeless tangles down her back. "My name has been forgotten by all but scholars. Perhaps this is for the best. I am both glad and sorry we met, Chris. It is not often that I am met with such calm."

She stepped backward off the parking curb, again without looking, then turned and began walking lightly toward the silent van. Almost reluctantly, Lyssa, daughter of Nyx and the harbinger of raging madness, cast one final look over her shoulder.

"I sincerely hope we will not meet again."

Reason to Be Excited

miakodachepi@gmail.com (miakoda) — Wed, 14 Oct 2009 03:32:00 +0000

The Monica let me read a revised version of the first few chapters of Argentum, which she's planning on sending out to publishers in the near future. I am currently unable to concentrate on making sense out of the jumbles in my own head right now, so it was a good change of pace to see how she's reworked the text so far since the first draft initially posted on the Violet War site. It definitely makes me want to flex the writing muscles a bit -- as did Otep's trick of posting an interesting photo on her blog and inviting her readers to "tell the story."

ANYWAY. I'm delighted to have a chance to witness M.'s progress on Argentum, and how the revision differs from the first draft. I wish her much luck and success on her hard work, and I hope she'll get a good bite when she's ready to start sending out the proposal packages.

Randomosity: Things of Interest

miakodachepi@gmail.com (miakoda) — Tue, 13 Oct 2009 18:42:00 +0000

October feels suspiciously Novemberish.

I have bombed out badly on several long email replies I owe, and blog posting, and generally being a productive human being. Except at work. There's been lots and lots of productivity at work, which is making my bosses simultaneously happy and nervous. I'm so busy doing things for other deans that I haven't time for my own job. This is going to be a problem in a couple of weeks when we start to get into the swing of things for winter graduation. And oh, are people going to be cranky when I start telling them no.

In addition to languishing email, I have assembled a stack of books for Cher Mere -- research materials (sort of) for her novels. We had an interesting conversation about Jungian vs. Mythic archetypes last week, as well. Good stuff.

So, instead of something insightful (/snicker) here are some Things of Interest to amuse the two of you if you get bored:

India: Youngest headmaster in the world. This is just awesome. As in, I am literally in awe of this young man and his co-volunteers.

Animal Kingdom: Leezards that walk on water and vegetarian spiders.

Medical Miracles: A double hand transplant. The pictures are a little hard to stomach, maybe because I'm rather terrified of damaging my hands, but this still blows my mind. Especially the fact that the nerves in his new hands are regrowing and should be usable by the end of the year. Also, did you hear they grew a jawbone joint from stem cells? Craziness.

Faked Antiquities: Scientists have finally figured out how the believe the Shroud of Turin was created.

Cultural Appropriation: In light of the recent plastic shaman tragedy, Chas Clifton had some interesting things to say about cultural appropriation. Is it a religious or a political concern? Is it still "appropriation" if one takes elements from a large/powerful source such as the Catholic Church rather than an indigenous or foreign source? Cultural appropriation is a Pagan hot-topic, and one on which I hold particularly strong views. But that's yet another half-finished post that will probably take weeks to see the light of day...

Writing Tips: My good friend Monica Valentinelli recently ran a three-part series called Tips on How to Be a Professional. If you have any interest in becoming a professional writer, please do yourself a favor and check out her blog.

Why Does It Feel Like Monday?

miakodachepi@gmail.com (miakoda) — Fri, 02 Oct 2009 21:25:00 +0000

I know it's Friday. So by all rights it should feel like Friday. And yet ...

I'm going to blame the weather. The Indiana Shroud is in full force, despite a couple of short-lived glimpses of brilliant blue sky and sun today. I got a face full of sunbeam for exactly one minute while I was waiting for the shuttle after lunch. It was a nice change, if too-too brief.

I'm also still a little grumpy that I had to cancel a boba tea date with Cher Mere last night so I could go home and sleep after work. That's right, no boba tea. Didn't even sound good. That's a sure sign something's off. That and sleeping for 11 hours on a Thursday night. That's weekend sleep, that is.

Today I did go in to work, but I'm still feeling a bit punky, and not in the good way. It takes a lot to make me skip a game, but ... I just want to curl up on my comfy couch tonight with some a bowl of ice cream or Cambert tea. Will will just have to put up with me crashing his territory tonight. I hope he's feeling entertaining.

Also, he found an amusing new anime on Hulu.com: Baccano! I've only watched the first episode so far, and I don't know quite how to describe it. It seems to have an odd roundabout storytelling motif in the tradition of Boogiepop Phantom, involves immortal '30s-era gangsters and lots of violence, and is stranger and funnier than I can do justice.

Have a good weekend.