#but there's also notes on the margins and like 10 or so extra pages in the black one so i'll just say that it evens out lol

[invinciblerodent]

I know I don't really post my little fics, but I wanted to share this nevertheless, because I'm quite proud of myself- today I finished filling my third little writing notebook! ❤️

I was curious, so I did a very quick and dirty word count (just... pages times lines times words in an average line), and with all three of them together, I'm up approximately to 130k words of fic handwritten over the past year (or, well, 10 months or so)!!!

((not ONE word of it is published, yaaaaay))

[tilbageidanmark]

Movies I watched this Week # 148 (Year 3/Week 44):

“… Would you go without her?… “

No bears, my 5th and favourite meta-film by persecuted Iranian director Jafar Panahi. Made in secret and illegally while being prohibited by the Ayatollahs. It's a slick and sharp fictionalized metaphor about a director, played again by himself, who rents a room in a tiny, primitive village near the Turkish border, while directing a movie long-distance about a couple who wants to escape Iran.

It's impossible to separate the fiction from reality. This is like a serious 'La Nuit américaine' with real-life consequences. Panahi was sentenced to 6 years in jail a month after the premier of the film. What kind of movies could he make, had he born in a "normal" country?

There's always the noise of traffic, when you're in the city. But it ends with the barks of country dogs at night. 9/10.

🍿

“ … So you’re a rocket scientist?…”

How many times have I seen J.C. Chandor's masterly thriller Margin Call in the last couple of years? At least half a dozen, and I simply can't get enough. After 'The Wolf of Wall Street' re-watch last week, I had to do it one more time. It's interesting that the movie doesn't show what they actually do, except of the end, after the long night is over. The muted score... The bridge story... the top-notch performances.

Noted this time: Stanley Tucci got $1,411,768 in extra bonus to stay at the office one last day - why such a sum? Also, the credits listed 12 people on the ‘Jeremy Irons miracle visa team’...

A perfect 10/10 - "Best Wall Street move ever made".

🍿

Third re-watching of György Pálfi’s immersive mashup Final Cut, Ladies and Gentlemen a ‘supercut’ of 451 clips from the most famous films in history. It’s a meta-love story, told through a montage of scenes edited together from all those other films.

It proves the power of the good editor. Also, how visual tropes and cinematic cliches repeat themselves again and again throughout history; Running through wheat fields, a whistling kettle, lovers kissing in the rain, a mirror is being smashed, clutching a child to one’s bosom, the clicking of keyboard...

And now you just want to watch and re-watch every single one of these 451 movies where the clips are from... Absolutely fantastic.

🍿

Another French classic, Peppermint Soda, my first by Diane Kurys. A sweet coming of age story of two charming sisters, 13 and 15 years old in Paris of 1963. Very similar in spirit, 'feel' and maturity as Truffaut's '400 Blows', but with girl-centric focus, which is so refreshing. She managed to write and direct this little masterpiece without having any prior experience in movie-making!

The 13-year-old who played the main character, Éléonore Klarwein, looks so familiar, but doesn't even have a Wikipedia page!

I'm going to seek the rest of Kurys work. Most delightful discovery of the week!

🍿

3 more by prolific French director Patrice Leconte:

🍿 I’ve only seen his ‘The man on the train’ before. Monsieur Hire was based on a mystery novel by Georges Simenon. It tells of a bald, lonely, middle age tailor who falls in love with young Sandrine Bonnaire, who lives in the apartment across from his. This was one of the last films that Roger Ebert added to his 'Great movies' list. 100% on Rotten Tomatoes.

🍿 Gérard Depardieu starred in ~ 250 movies. One of his latest was playing Maigret, one of the original old-time detectives. A large and tired, but very humane figure, he's quietly trying to discover the circumstances behind a murder of a lonely young woman. (Photo Above).

🍿 The Boléro drummer is a 1992 wordless short. It comically focuses on the frustrated facial expressions of a drummer, while participating in a performance of Ravel's piece.

🍿

I’m your man, my second film by German director Maria Schrader (after ‘She said’). An updated version to Spike Jonze's 'Her', where it's not only the voice but a complete human android they fall in love with. A better-than-usual Black Mirror romcom, with growing emotional resonance. It, unsurprisingly, ends in a sleepy seaside Danish village! 7/10.

🍿

Tarkovsky's lyrical debut feature Ivan’s childhood about a Soviet boy hero in WW2 fighting the Nazis. Not what I expected, minimalist poetry.

🍿

3 more by Martin Ritt:

🍿 “… You’re an unprincipled man, Hud…”

Hud, a Neo-Western about a self-centered, indecent bastard, an amoral anti-hero Paul Newman, and his proud, old-fashioned father. Played in a dying small west-Texas town, of the 'Last Picture Show' bleakness and despair kind. Based on a Larry McMurtry novel, and featuring Patricia Neal as a housekeeper who was hurt before, and won't be again, if she can help it. There's a scene where a large herd of cows, possibly infected with Foot-and-mouth disease, is being shot in a culling pit that is very hard to watch. 8/10.

🍿 Stanley & Iris, Martin Ritt's final film, and the only one where Robert de Nero is getting around on a bicycle. A romantic working class tearjerker that didn't work; A large commercial bakery where most of the work was done by hand, an illiterate laborer who becomes fabulously successful once he learns to read (and the tired cliche of a person walking in the middle of the street instead of the sidewalk..) 2/10.

🍿 Re-watch: The political drama about the 1950's Hollywood blacklisters, The front. A superficial study of the workings and effects of McCarthyism, made 2 decades later by a group of writers who were boycotted themselves. But Woody Allen was an obnoxious actor always playing obnoxious characters, even here, when he didn't mean to be funny. Dated and two-dimensional. 3/10.

🍿

Another Red Scare re-watch, Don Siegel's alien invasion allegory Invasion of the Body Snatchers. The originator of the 'Pod people' conspiracy concept. The fear of losing one's 'originality' and 'personality' when confronted with conformity and mass acceptance. In retrospect, the conclusions and explanations had a low 'Twilight Zone' quality.

🍿

The body, a convoluted Spanish crime mystery that predictably plays it by the numbers. There were two scene that elevated it from a complete bore-fest: An outrageously disgusting one, when the accused husband tears an incriminating letter in a dirty toilet, and when it doesn’t flush, he has to fish it out and swallow it. And the final, unexpected twist, that came out of left field. 2/10.

🍿

4 comedies I haven’t seen before:

🍿 ... "We want the finest wines available to humanity, we want them here and we want them now..."

Withnail & I, an odd, Ralph Steadman-like, off-beat British classic satire, about 2 drunk slackers, unemployed actors, who escape to an unheated, falling-down cottage in the country. Punkish Richard E. Grant debut film.

🍿 “who wants a mustache ride?”

Super troopers, a sophomoric, noisy, crude and low-brow comedy, that wasn't as stupid as it sounds. With Brian Cox and Lynda Carter.

🍿 I Love You Phillip Morris, a misguided gay romance with Jim Carrey that can't decide if it's a tender drama about a conman, or a low-brow comedy full of gay stereotypes. Fake cliches all the way. With Hair's Annie Golden. 2/10.

🍿 Jennifer’s body, a female-focused horror written by Diablo Cody. I watched it only because of one insightful review on 'Letterbox', but the tenets of the horror genre simply don't work for me. Gave it 25 minutes, then gave it up, sorry.

🍿

I've seen 7 of Paolo Sorrentino's 10 features so far, so I wanted to indulge with his HBO-series, The young pope, with Jude Law playing a rebellious American pope. The first episode was typically stylish, and beautifully irreverent. But the premise of the Vatican letting an un-vetted young mutt to take over the institution is so ridiculous, that after 2 hours I had to bail out.

🍿

3+ female-directed shorts:

🍿 'A Seaman’s Life Flashes Before His Eyes', in the Oscar nominated Canadian short The flying sailor. It is based on the real life Halifax explosion that happened in 1917, where a sailor was blown through the air and survived.

🍿 Muta, by Argentinian Lucrecia Martel; A group of 8 well-dressed models on a barge sailing the Amazon river. Creepy, unexplained, experimental. My 2nd from the Miu Miu collection of Women's tales.

🍿 Zoe Cassavetes’s (John’s daughter) The Powder Room. Basically, a clothing ad. 1/10.

🍿 Also, Capitol of Conformity, a Dystopian Short Film created by AI and by Aze Adora.

🍿  

(My complete movie list is here)

[there-must-be-a-lock]

Merely Players (Bucky x Clint)

Community theater AU! For my Winterhawk Bingo square “Captain America!Clint/Winter Soldier!Bucky.” 

Word Count: ~1700

Rating: PG

Absolute fluffy silliness with lots of cameos. I just needed a break from working on Sweet Home Was Home, tbh, and I’ve had this idea in the back of my head for a while. There will probably be at least two more parts to this, because I started mentally casting the show and couldn’t not write it all out. It’s full-on meta madness and I love it.   

Bucky flips through the script, increasingly baffled. The margins are already full of Steve’s tidy cursive notes.��

“Who the fuck wrote this shit?” he asks, scanning the page. 

“Isn’t it interesting?” Steve says happily. “You want coffee?” 

“I had one beer and I live three minutes away, Steve,” Bucky says, rolling his eyes. “I’ll be fine. Interesting is… not the word I would’ve chosen. No offense to Peggy, I’m sure the songs are fantastic, but this is fucking bizarre. Superheroes? Brainwashing? Who came up with this shit?” 

“The playwright’s name is Nicholas Fury, but I think that’s a pseudonym, because I can’t find anything about him online. It was Stark’s call, though. Apparently he has some personal investment in getting this staged, he’s funding the whole damn thing.” 

“So… it’s somebody’s vanity project?” 

“No,” Steve says huffily. “C’mon, you really don’t want to audition? You used to love theater!” 

“In high school. Before I got blown up.” 

“It’ll be good for you to get out a bit. Make some new friends.” 

Bucky ignores that and flips through a few more pages. “These names are fuckin’ absurd, even for goddamn superheroes. And how the hell are you going to stage these stunts? You want somebody flying around on webs?” 

“That’s where Tony really comes in,” Steve says excitedly. “He’s offering to pay for all the construction, but also, the guy is a genius. I’ve never met him but I saw a video of this thing he did for last year’s Fringe Festival, he made a robot that actually moved around the stage.” 

Okay, that does sound cool. But still. 

“The lead is named Captain America, for fuck’s sake.” 

“Sam’s auditioning, did I tell you that?” 

“Oh boy,” Bucky says flatly. 

“You guys are going to get along great once you actually talk to each other. And Thor! You liked Thor, right?” 

Bucky shrugs. “We only met that once. But yeah, sure.” It’s very hard not to like the self-proclaimed God of Lighting. 

“Do you remember Natasha Romanoff? She moved back to the area last year, she’s the choreographer.” 

“Course I do. It’ll be nice to see her.” 

“It’s gonna be great, Buck. Will you be my assistant director, at least?” Steve wheedles. “C’mon, I don’t care what you’re doing, I just want you around for moral support. Please?” 

“Fine,” he grumbles. “But there’s no way in hell you’re getting me on a stage.” 

Famous last words.  

Clint spots a few familiar faces when he walks in. The Maximoffs are in one corner, talking to Sam, who gives Clint a grin. Jessica is sitting on one of the uncomfortable plastic chairs, arms crossed, completely still — she looks like she’s just judging everybody silently from behind her massive sunglasses, but Clint knows her well enough to guess that she’s napping off a hangover. Eddie is sitting with his back to the wall, squinting up at the ceiling blearily — and you’d think he was hungover, or maybe still drunk, but that’s just how he always looks, as far as Clint can tell. 

Kate waves from another corner, where she’s stretching with Yelena. 

“Where’ve you been?” she asks. “They should be starting any minute now.” 

“A wizard is never late, Kate Bishop,” he tells her. She raises a judgmental eyebrow in the direction of his venti extra-whip frappuccino. 

Also, he thought auditions started at 11, not 10. Oops. 

When they head into the theater, Nat’s leaning against the side of the stage chatting with Steve and a guy Clint doesn’t know. The part of his face that Clint can see involves a really fucking pretty jawline, which Clint would like to lick, pleaseandthankyou. 

He catches Nat’s eye. She raises an eyebrow in his direction, giving him a little wave, and the pretty dude turns as well, revealing a fucking fantastic face. 

Clint maybe trips over his own feet because he’s too busy staring, but at least he doesn’t drop his Starbucks. 

“Put your eyes back in your head, Barton,” Yelena tells him. 

“Save me a seat? I’m gonna go say hi to Nat.” 

“You mean get the dirt on Cheekbones?” Kate teases, and he flips her off over his shoulder. 

Nat meets him halfway. 

“I don’t think I know that guy,” Clint says, totally casual. Natasha follows the line of his gaze and smirks. 

“James? Steve’s best friend. Better known as Bucky. We dated, way back when. He broke my heart.” 

“Wait, really?” Clint says incredulously. 

“Mm. Asked for his ring back and everything. Very sad.” 

“Oh.” 

Well, shit. He’s never actually heard Nat admit to anybody breaking her heart. He immediately vows to hate the guy. Figures that the cute ones are always straight, assholes, or both. 

Steve jumps up from his chair and starts gesticulating wildly at another guy Clint’s never met. 

“Who’s that?” Clint asks. 

“The guy with the sunglasses is Matt Murdock, our vocal coach. And the other guy is Tony Stark. In the two hours I’ve known him, he’s made three stupid jokes about Matt being blind, so I’m gonna guess that right there is the aftermath of number four.” 

“Matt doesn’t seem to mind,” Clint observes. Matt is in fact muttering something to Bucky under his breath that is making Bucky smirk like a motherfucker, and Clint chokes on his own tongue a little bit. That smirk might kill him. 

“No, he’s very… patient,” Natasha says, with the absolute faintest hint of a blush coloring her cheeks. “But you know Steve.”  

“Patient, huh?” Clint asks gleefully. She elbows him. “Ow.” 

“There may be some appeal to the idea of a guy who doesn’t stare at my tits all day.” 

Fair enough.

Steve’s working himself up into full righteous fury mode, and Clint watches bemusedly as Stark laughs in his increasingly red face. 

“Twenty says they fuck at the closing party,” Clint says. 

“My money’s on tech night,” Natasha replies. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go intervene before Steve does something stupid. Break a leg.” 

If Tony fucking Stark says one more fucking word, Steve might punch him in his stupid pretty mouth. Asshole. 

“I’m telling you, it’s gotta be Wilson,” Stark says. 

“And I’m telling you, you don’t know what you’re talking about,” Steve snaps. 

“Steve’s right,” Natasha says quietly, and Steve breathes a sigh of relief. “Sam is great, but there’s no menace in him.” 

Stark’s bouncing his knee so fast it looks like he’s vibrating. Nat reaches out slowly and takes his coffee out of his hand, raising an eyebrow. Stark opens his mouth to argue and then clearly thinks better of it, so maybe he’s not quite as dumb as he looks. 

“Fuck. Maybe I could convince Banner to audition?” Steve says, without much real hope. 

“There’s no way in hell, Steve,” Natasha says, rolling her eyes. “Behind the scenes only, he made it very clear.” 

“What about Parker? He’s the only other one who can sing worth a damn,” Stark says. 

“You’re shittin’ us, right?” Bucky asks bluntly.

“What’s wrong with that idea? Granted, with the difference in height and muscle mass, a fight between him and Barton might be challenging, but Loki is great at body painting, and —”

“It’d look stupid as shit,” Bucky interrupts. Steve manages to turn his laugh into a snort. 

“What about you, James?” Murdock says thoughtfully. Everybody turns to look at him. 

“What the fuck about me?” Bucky growls. He casts a furtive look back to where Barton’s sitting; then he turns bright red and looks even angrier, which Steve recognizes as a sure sign that Bucky’s got a crush.

“Steve said you have a wonderful voice.” 

“Did you pay him to say this?” Bucky asks Steve furiously. “Because I swear —” 

Murdock laughs. “No, he most definitely did not.” 

“It’s worth a try, at least,” Natasha says. 

“Et tu, Nat?” 

She gives him a look. “James.”

Bucky holds eye contact for all of two seconds before letting off a string of curses in Russian. Steve resists the urge to jump up and down. 

Clint’s been her best friend for years now, but Natasha’s still amazed by what he can do, sometimes. Off-stage, he can’t take two steps without tripping. On-stage, he’s a force of nature. 

James is brilliant, too, but what really sells it is the chemistry between the two of them; it’s just a read-through, but the energy is electric. There’s this fire in Clint’s eyes that he only manages in real life when he hears about somebody mistreating an animal. 

He’s a marshmallow, but he’s her marshmallow. 

As for James… well, he’s also a marshmallow; he just hides it exceptionally well. 

There isn’t much of a difference between the Soldier he’s playing and the one Steve has talked about seeing since James was discharged. It can’t be an easy thing to live with, but it’s a hell of a thing to watch onstage; Natasha feels a pang of sympathy at the wounded, haunted look in his eyes. He prowls forward, advancing on “Captain America,” physically menacing in spite of the emotion in his face, and Clint clenches his jaw in a silent dare. 

“Holy sexual tension, Batman,” Stark comments under his breath, and if Natasha didn’t find him so incredibly irritating, she’d agree out loud.

“Barnes is strong, isn’t he?” Murdock says quietly to Natasha’s left. His head is tilted like he’s deep in thought. 

“Very,” she says. “How can you tell?” 

“I have my ways.” He’s wearing this tiny smug smile that’s entirely too intriguing. 

“Remember that time in Kindergarten when you beat him up?” Steve says fondly. 

“How could I forget? He proposed as soon as he stopped crying.” 

“What did you say?” Murdock asks. 

“I told him to come back with a blue raspberry Ring Pop,” Natasha says. “And he did. But then he decided he wanted to eat it, so that was that.” 

“Ah, young love.” 

[snek-panini]

Hi, as someone who has also dabbled in bookbinding as a hobby, I'd be super interested in any insights you have in typesetting in MS Word. You mentioned that you don't usually talk about it on here, so if you have a different blog a post along those lines would fit better, I'd appreciate being pointed in its direction

Hi! By on here I actually meant on tumblr, or online as a general thing. I talk my family's ears off about it irl but the post I made yesterday is the first time I've ever really talked about making books online.

I am far from an expert on this. I made my first book a little over a year and a half ago and have since made a grand total of five books, working on #6 right now, and a lot of what I've learned about typesetting I picked up from r/bookbinding over on reddit (I don't have an account there, I just read other people's posts). I wanted to link the tutorial I used but I can't find it in my bookmarks so I think my browser ate it.

I'm not sure how much you already know and I've never written a tutorial before, so some of this may be too detailed, but here's the parts I think are important:

-Book fold is the setting you need to make signatures. In the version of Word that I have it's under Layout, the first box that says Margins Orientation Size etc. Click the little box in the corner of that section and you'll get a popup where you can set custom margins. Set the orientation to landscape and the Pages dropdown to Book Fold. You'll need to set Sheets per Booklet (right under that dropdown) before you print because the default is "all", but I like to do this at the end when I know how many pages the text is.

-Sheets per booklet is how many actual pieces of paper are in the signature. If you tell it 4, the lowest setting, it will give you signatures of 1 piece of paper. 8 is 2 papers that nest like proper book pages, 12 is 3 papers, etc. No one told me this and my first book of like 50 pages had 12 signatures in it when I was expecting it to have 3 or 4. I got to practice stitching but it was ridiculous.

-Size 12 font is too big for most books, unless you want Large Print. I like size 11. Footnotes and page numbers should be a little smaller so I use size 10 for those.

-If you're going to trim the edges, leave extra space in the top, bottom, and outer margins. If you have page numbers or footnotes in the header or footer, you can adjust how far they are from the top and bottom of the page. Go to add the header and at the bottom of the dropdown for it is an option for "edit header". If you click this it will give you a toolbar at the top of the screen with new options; the last one on the right is "header from top" and "footer from bottom". If you leave it standard Word will put them in the space you intended to trim off, regardless of what you set your margins to.

-The tutorial I used talked about the gutter, which is the space in the middle of the book where it runs into the fold. I have not found that I needed to have a gutter, and setting the inside margins works well enough for that so your words aren't hidden in the seam. I think this comes into play more with longer books, or books that have rounded and backed spines. I haven't rounded or backed anything I've made yet so I can't speak about that.

-You can format tables of contents in Word, there are templates, but I think they look like corporate expense reports so I don't use them. I usually do the front matter (title page, contents, author's notes, etc.) in a separate document so I can add the right number of blank pages and not worry about having page numbers on the title page. For tables of contents I make a numerical list. I like 'em simple.

-If you can, Word allows you to make custom templates for anything you want. Once I had settings I liked I made a template and saved it so I don't have to reset the margins and stuff every time I make a new book. The only caveat here is remembering to hit Save As instead of Save the first time you save your work.

I hope that helps! If you'd like I would love to hear about your own tips working in MS Word, god knows mine are far from exhaustive. Or if there's something you wanted to know that I didn't mention, if I can help I'd be happy to.

[tempural]

Breaking down the Gorl Scout Zine budget, and giving my thoughts and opinions on zine finances!

I've been DIY-ing zines for like 10 years now so. Grandpa is senile and rambling today. I am by no means the final word or expert on anything. This is all just stuff I think personally, for myself, in regards to my own methods of zine-making. If you disagree with me on anything, feel free to tell anyone other than me!

Transcription:

I firmly believe all group zines NEED to have their budget available for their contributors to view. We need more transparency and accountability in the fanzine scene.

I also choose to make my zine budgets publicly available to EVERYONE, so people can see how much it costs to make a zine. Especially if it can convince others to DIY their art projects, because it can be cheaper, look better, and have more control than outsourcing!

PHYSICAL ZINE COSTS:

2x printer ink sets: $56

50x cover paper: $13

1500x interior paper: $36

50x zines = $105, or $2.10 each

You have a stapler somewhere, right?

NOTES: I own a Canon printer which I also use for stickers and prints on my regular shop. Others may wish to use a copy shop for $1 color cover prints and .10 cent interiors.

EXTRAS COSTS:

110x vinyl sticker paper: $42

120x photo paper (4x6): $13

50x photo paper (8x10): $24

Stickers, bookmarks, prints for up to 50 zine packages = $79

You have scissors, right? These extras go in big bundles and have a higher profit margin than the zine itself, helping to offset costs.

NOTES: these are also printed on that ol' workhorse Canon printer. I handcut the stickers for the Gore Zine, but now we have a Portrait machine to cut these with.

SHIPPING COSTS:

100x glassine bags: $11

100x shipping labels (4x6): $19

13x USPS first class: 135

Shipping free zines to 13 contributors = $165!

Two of the 15 contributors are me and shane and we don't need shipping lolz.

First Class shipping prices for less than 10 ounces:

From USA to USA = $5

From USA to everywhere else = $10-$15

NOTES: I pack and ship stuff on the reg with PirateShip to handle addresses + labels, and my $50 laser printer. You MUST compensate your contributors with a free copy of the zine at the very least. If you make them pay for the zine you SUCK NUTZ.

---

Zines $105 + extras $79 + shipping $165 equals...

$349 budget!

Every dollar over $349 will be shared evenly amongst the 15 contributors. I'm aiming for $20 to each artist. $20 x 15 contributors = $300 + $349 budget = $649 goal!

I priced my limited bundles to hit the $300 goal when they all sell. And if we sell 10 of the $35 zine bundles, that'll cover the rest of it! I also have personal money saved to pay for all this as a backup because it's MY passion project! I'm 100% going to make sure it's a reality!

In cumclusion...

Zines, fanzines, and anthologies are NOT the best way to make money with (mass) printed art.

(That would be with illustration prints, which you can print for $1 and sell for $30. As opposed to 40 pages in a zine for $10.)

Zines ARE very fun to make because reading is FUNdamental! Make zines cuz it’s fun! Make weird zines! Don’t make zines just “for profit” cuz you hella stupid if you tryna make money this way.

[imaginaryelle]

Update for this role-reversal soulmates fic! Thanks very much to @morphia-writes and @laireshi for their lovely beta work and encouragement while I finished this one.

A snippet:

The days in Yiling, their travels, Wei Ying’s attention—Lan Wangji has grown incautious. Left his heart unguarded once again, as he cannot ever seem not to, with Wei Ying. He keeps his eyes on his own hands, as if watching them can prevent further transgressions. Self-restraint is a habit of body as well as of mind, and this body does not have his years of practice to draw on. Perhaps he should start wearing a forehead ribbon again, or something similar but not so recognizably Lan. Just for the reminder.

Read on tumblr:

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7 | part 8 | part 9 | part 10 |

part 11 under the cut!

*

They arrive in Yingchuan in the early evening, just as the street stalls, restaurants and inns light their lanterns, and Wei Ying insists on finding accommodations before they investigate the first of their trapped ghouls. He leads the way, watching the market with an attitude more curious than wary, but Lan Wangji catches him checking rooftops and dark corners just as often as he lets his gaze rest on a merchant’s wares. As if he’s expecting a threat around each new turn.

This is not unreasonable. From what Lan Wangji remembers the Yingchuan-Wang Sect was small but fiercely proud before the Sunshot campaign destroyed their most prominent connections to the Qishan Wens. Whatever else has happened since his death, he doubts they have forgiven Wei Ying for his very specific role in their disgrace and the ignominious death of Wang Lingjiao. Seventeen years is a long time, but a cultivator’s memory of wrongs committed is longer.

“How do you plan to approach the local sect?” he asks. Alerting the local cultivators to their presence is both customary and polite, especially as they do actually plan to night-hunt. Not doing so can only further sour relations between Yingchaun-Wang and Yiling-Wei.

“Ah.” Wei Ying hunches his shoulders, defensive. “Perhaps you could handle that part? I doubt they have anything against Liang Feihong.”

This is likely true, but it does mean that if the Sect discovers he’s working with Wei Ying their welcome in Yingchuan could wear thin quite quickly.

“I will need to learn Trace,” he says, setting those thoughts aside, and Wei Ying nods.

“Of course, of course. Let’s stop here,” he gestures at an inn that looks marginally better appointed than the first one they had passed at the town’s outskirts. “At this range, we might even get a more detailed map out of it.” To Lan Wangji’s surprise, Wei Ying dismounts just outside the stable’s gates and holds out a purse.

“Better to start now, Liang-ge,” he says with a grin as he takes Heitu’s reins. “I’ll make sure these two get properly settled. Get something on an upper floor maybe, if they have it?”

They do. Lan Wangji gets the impression, when the proprietor eagerly shows him to what is likely one of the inn’s best rooms, that Yingchuan sees little traffic from visiting cultivators or gentry. It is a likely stop for merchants making the trek between Yunmeng and Pingyang, or to any of the scattered towns to the west and north, but he suspects its popularity has waned in the wake of Qishan’s fall; traveling from Yunmeng to Lanling to Qinghe before turning fully west is likely more comfortable, and more profitable, even with the extra time required.

He orders a light meal, and tea, and sets spirit ward talismans as he walks the room’s circumference. He also opens the windows to catch the bare hint of the evening breeze. The meal is laid out and the tea gently steeping when Wei Ying lets himself in through one of those windows, saddlebags thrown over his shoulder and his smile as bright and gleeful as the one Lan Wangji remembers from their first meeting, atop Gusu’s high walls.

There is hay stuck in his hair, and Lan Wangji reaches for it without thinking. Wei Ying goes still, staring at him, until he pulls back with the long stalks in hand.

“Oh,” he says, blinking at it. “Uh. Thanks.”

Lan Wangji nods. He should probably not have done that. Whispers of memory have stalked him all afternoon—get off, get away in that cold Yiling cave mixing through the heavy realization that Wei Ying does not remember what Wangxian was. The relentless hammer of that guileless question: What’s its name?

The days in Yiling, their travels, Wei Ying’s attention—he has grown incautious. Left his heart unguarded once again, as he cannot ever seem not to, with Wei Ying. He sets the hay aside, keeping his eyes on his own hands, as if watching them can prevent further transgressions. Self-restraint is a habit of body as well as of mind, and this body does not have his years of practice to draw on. Perhaps he should start wearing a forehead ribbon again, or something similar but not so recognizably Lan. Just for the reminder.

“Trace,” Wei Ying says suddenly, louder than necessary. “You should learn Trace.”

He pulls paper and a brush and ink supplies from one of their bags, and spreads them out on another table, well away from the food.

“It’s pretty simple,” he says. “Just paper, three inks, and a talisman to make the initial connection. And the ghost, of course.”

He looks up, expectant, and Lan Wangji pulls the correct spirit pouch from his sleeve. Wei Ying reaches for it. Hooks his fingers through the dangling cords of the cinch closure, as far from Lan Wangji’s fingers as possible.

“I’ll do a containment array,” he says. “You saw Xiuying do the ink? Of course you did.” He moves quickly, almost skittering away to clear a space on the floor.

Lan Wangji turns his hands to his task. He grinds each inkstick in turn, separating the resulting inks into the little wooden dishes that seem designed for the purpose, and wiping the inkstone clean in-between. Shiny lacquer ink, dark oil-black ink, and a gray charcoal wash. Wei Ying shows him a talisman that echoes the engravings on the dishes: blood, and memory, and earth. He copies it three times under Wei Ying’s gaze.

Lan Wangji positions the dishes of ink on the paper and casts the talisman twice, watching the inks seep over each page in turn. Two maps, identical, just to be sure he can reproduce it for the Wang Sect if they need convincing.

“It’s strange, how the memory warps with distance,” Wei Ying says, studying one of the new maps closely. He has the original version spread out next to it, and there are notable differences. More definition in the new one. More dark footprints, in the market and around what was probably the spirit’s home. A spreading stain of shiny lacquer at the site of the death, a few streets away from where they sit. Wei Ying traces a blur of gray outside Yingchuan’s gates, disconnected from the trail of steps.

“I’ll look into this while you talk to the Wang Sect,” he says. “Might be where the body is. Or where it was.” He squints. “So imprecise. It might not be intact.”

“Mn.”

That would certainly influence the spirit’s level of resentment. She jerks and flickers in Wei Ying’s array, the dark lines of poison livid on her limbs and teeth.

“We should start before dark,” Lan Wangji notes. The sky is already blooming red through the windows. The Sect will likely close their gates soon, making getting an audience that much more difficult. He eyes the food for a moment, and then lays a preservation charm over it. Wei Ying has not even looked at it since he arrived, and Lan Wangji’s own task should not be delayed even for the length of a meal.

He carefully packs away the supplies for Trace, the first map, and one of the new ones. The practice blade he carries will not fool any cultivator, but holding it feels better than leaving his hands empty.

Wei Ying is still seated, studying tracks in ink.

“Wei Ying.” He looks to the array. "The Wang Sect may wish to see the spirit, also."

“Right, right, sorry.” Wei Ying turns and motions at his array, turning it to dark strands that wind around the spirit and compress it back into the pouch. “Here,” he holds it out, somewhat sheepish.

Lan Wangji, unsure what reassurance might be accepted, does not comment. He tucks the pouch into his sleeve. He hesitates—leaving Wei Ying in uncertain circumstances has not become easier with so many days of his constant presence.

“Ah, you should put on another layer!” Wei Ying darts away and pulls a roll of fabric from his pack. “Maybe this one?” He shakes out an overlayer robe, a wide-sleeved beizi in soft blue-gray linen. He leans around it and grins. “You know how Sect Leaders get about rogue cultivators they’ve never heard of. You should look more official. Successful.”

Something must show in Lan Wangji’s face. Wei Ying lets his hands fall and pouts.

“Lan Zhan,” he says, dragging out the vowels.

Lan Wangji … caves. It is only a beizi. It can’t steal any more time than his own reluctance to leave Wei Ying alone.

Wei Ying steps closer. Pulls the practice sword from his hand and sets it aside. Holds up the coat for Lan Wangji to slide his arms through.

Lan Wangji steels himself against the too-quick beat of his heart and lets Wei Ying help him into it, instead of taking it from his hands.

“You look good,” Wei Ying tells him, tugging the lapels into place. “I’d let you in in a heartbeat,” he says on a laugh. He’s beaming. Lan Wangji swallows against butterflies fluttering under his lungs and hopes his flustered feelings aren’t as obvious as the heat on his neck and ears would suggest.

Wei Ying steps back, and Lan Wangji breathes.

“Oh! And—” Wei Ying’s hands go to his waist sash, untying the pei that hangs there. “Take this,” he says, holding it out. “Just in case.”

Lan Wangji takes it. A length of black silk string tied around a simple circle of jade, with a black tassel at the end.

“If you charge it with spiritual power, it can help me find you quickly.” Wei Ying’s smile is thin, pulled tight against his teeth. “Also, it’ll get you past the wards, back home. At Yiling-Wei, I mean.”

Lan Wangji nods, and ties it to his sash. Everything he carries, or nearly, is a gift from Wei Ying, but this feels different. Yiling-Wei’s grounds are crossed with wards, too many to count. This is trust, in a circle of jade.

“Thank you.” He bows. Wei Ying waves him away impatiently.

“Stop thanking me,” he insists, exasperated. “Go, go. I’ll see you after.”

*

The Wang Sect grounds are situated at the northern end of Yingchuan, kept apart from the rush and bustle of ordinary people by high, red-stained walls and a stretch of garden that has muffled most of the noise by the time Lan Wangji reaches their central courtyard. It is easy to see, from the stretch of walls and roofs, that the Sect is still somewhat prosperous. The grounds are kept in good repair, the gardens are lush and well-drained, the buildings freshly painted. Whatever has happened over the past seventeen years, there is little sign of the hardship the Sect must have endured following the war.

The disciples who escort him from the gate keep their silence, but their disregard does not need to be expressed in words. Perhaps it would have been better to leave the training sword behind, and walk the world as Wei Ying does, with no sword at all. Perhaps it would be better to be taken as arrogant, rather than weak. But Lan Wangji is not Wei Ying, and his grip on the sheath of his borrowed blade is a comfort he sorely needs. At least they cannot know from looking that his guqin is also not a spiritual weapon. That the strongest defenses currently available to him are the core-damaging talismans from his prison, which he doesn’t dare use.

He is abruptly grateful for Wei Ying’s suggestion of the beizi. He feels exposed, in the open courtyard of gray stone with looming doorways on each side like open mouths. Another layer, and the weight of the pei against his thigh, are a comfort he did not expect.

He straightens his shoulders. His spine. Keeps his right hand tucked behind his back and summons the cool, stern control he spent so much of his childhood building. This is a test of restraint and pride, like any other. That he does not wear the forehead ribbon or bear the emblem of Gusu-Lan only makes it a truer test of character.

Wang Baihan at least has the courtesy to meet him in person rather than delegating a deputy. To offer tea, though it is inescapably obvious that the blend in Lan Wangji's cup differs from the Sect Leader’s own serving.

There is no attempt at polite niceties: Lan Wangji can claim no acquaintance, and bears no news from the larger Sects. He is here only as a supplicant, and the Wang disciples make it clear that his presence is barely tolerated.

“Speak,” Wang Baihan orders, curt and disinterested. Lan Wangji bows, but he cannot bring himself to lower his gaze as he speaks. A Sect Leader should be gracious, his brother whispers in his memory, but Wang Baihan is far from the first Sect Leader he has met who appears to think differently.

“Thank you for this audience, Wang-zongzhu” he starts, just exactly as formal as the situation requires. The customary phrasing of his request is soothing, familiar. “I wish to continue a night hunt in your territory,” he says. “I discovered a spirit, far from here, with no remains to aid in liberation—” It occurs to him, almost too late, that revealing the details of that discovery is unlikely to aid his case with these cultivators. He continues more cautiously. “A young woman, perhaps twenty years old. When Trace was cast, she appeared to have lived and died here in Yingchuan. I am investigating how she came to be moved, and if she had family who have yet to be contacted.”

He pulls the map from his sleeve and unrolls it, baring the footprints, the sketch of streets and markets, the shiny smear of death. It’s a creep of unease that keeps him from also revealing the spirit pouch, and the ghost’s continued existence.

“From the marks her spirit bore,” he says instead, “I concluded she had been poisoned.”

There is a shift among the attending disciples. Frowns. A hint of a sneer. The Sect Leader only sighs.

“If you wish to imply that I have been remiss in the duties of my territory, I promise you, you will answer for the insult.”

“That is not my intent, Wang-zongzhu,” Lan Wangji insists. He bows again, brushing aside the provocation that is surely intended. “I am only hoping to ensure her fate does not cause further restless spirits among those known to her.”

A disciple steps forward and accepts the map from his hands.

“Poisoned,” the disciple says, “and died in the city’s eastern holding cells. It might be that criminal. The Qian girl. Was she pretty?” he asks.

Lan Wangji is uncertain how to answer that; he has only seen the twisted, resentment-fueled remnant of her soul. But it seems an answer is not truly needed. Sect Leader Wang shakes his head.

“There was no hint of agitation in that girl’s spirit. We would certainly have felt her presence if there had been.”

Lan Wangji waits for some further explanation, but none seems to be intended.

“May I ask her crime?”

The disciple’s face twists.

“She killed one of my younger sect brothers, in the market. Slit his throat. A merchant’s daughter, I think, but no family claimed her.” He snorts. “Who would want to, after such a crime?”

Lan Wangji eyes him, and then the Sect Leader. They must know how ludicrous this sounds. A commoner, killing a cultivator. Slitting his throat in a busy street.

“Were they known to each other?”

“Does it matter?” The disciple shrugs. “The point is, if she has any family here they don’t care enough to hold her death against us. You can be on your way without worries.”

Lan Wangji looks to the Sect Leader, but the man is making a show of drinking his tea.

This is a dismissal. The Sect Leader’s indifference makes it clear there is no further explanation coming, nor any offer of hospitality. Lan Wangji buries the rest of his questions under the rigid control that has always been his first recourse. He wonders, briefly, how he might have been received as himself, the Second Jade of Lan, with a spiritual sword at his side and reputation to precede him. But there is no purpose in such daydreams. He makes his goodbyes with as much speed as the proper formalities will allow, and finds himself back outside the gates just as the last tint of twilight slips from the sky and night envelopes Yingchuan.

A merchant’s daughter. Who killed a cultivator. Who was executed for that crime with poison.

There is a bitter seed in Lan Wangji’s heart that remembers the disdain in the Wang disciple’s face and whispers: and what did that cultivator do to provoke such an end?

He shakes the thought away, and sets out into the dark. Wei Ying will be waiting.

*

As promised, he finds Wei Ying just beyond the city’s northern gates, inspecting the area indicated by the map’s blurred splotch of ink wash. A graveyard. He sits a little apart from the markers with his hands pressed to the earth and his eyes closed, and his face turns toward Lan Wangji as he approaches but he doesn’t stand or open his eyes.

“This is where she wanted to be buried,” he says. “Her family’s here. It was her dying wish. She would have been easy to liberate.”

Lan Wangji takes care not to step too close. He stays on the small, neatly-swept path.

“The Wang sect says she was a criminal,” he says, “executed for the murder of a cultivator.”

“Ah.” Wei Ying meets his eyes then. “To form such a strong spirit she must have felt quite wronged.”

It’s not quite a question, but Lan Wangji nods an answer anyway. There is no reason they should trust the Wang Sect’s recitation of events. For so public a murder as bloodshed in the main market, her actions are unlikely to stem from a small slight.

Wei Ying sighs. “Why not eliminate her then?”

“They said they never encountered her ghost. There was no reason to investigate further.”

Wei Ying frowns, but then the expression tightens and Lan Wangji knows they have reached the same conclusion: so strong a spirit should certainly have caused disruptions for as long as she was near those she felt had wronged her. Therefore, either the spirit had already been suppressed or, since they had found her so far afield, already been moved. Which, in turn, means whoever moved her must have known of her death almost as soon as it occurred.

“I haven’t found any physical remains.” Wei Ying stands, brushing off his hands and twitching his robes into place. “Not here or back where we found her. Shall we see if she finds them on her own?”

Lan Wangji nods and produces the spirit pouch once again. A process that might take another cultivator several talismans or an array requires only Chenqing, for Wei Ying. Lan Wangji can feel the leading, questioning edge of power he adds to his song.

The spirit wavers. Drifts. But only for a short distance. Back and forth, over the ground where she wished to be buried.

It’s a peaceful tract, sheltered from the north wind by a stand of pines and dotted with wildflowers. The graves here are well-kept. The spirit shows no obvious attempt to break free of Chenqing’s control, but no matter how Wei Ying changes his song, she does not leave that ground. Eventually, he lowers his flute and sighs.

“Perhaps her remains were destroyed,” Lan Wangji offers. It is the fate that was supposed to have awaited Wen Ning at the Jin Sect’s hands, so many years ago.

Wei Ying shrugs. “Maybe. I’d try Empathy, but that could only tell us what happened up to her death.” He frowns. “We should pacify her, right?” His gaze slides away from the spirit, to Lan Wangji. “That would be the righteous thing,” he says, clearly probing, “wouldn’t it?”

It would be. Lan Wangji has never shied from such a pacification before, and certainly not one that would so clearly be simple to accomplish. He should not hesitate now. Should not. But it is more difficult than expected, letting go of one of the handful of clues he has.

“Unless you want Zewu-jun to question her?” Wei Ying asks.

Lan Wangji nods, but it is a reluctant decision. His uncle’s admonishments echo through his bones—to prolong the suffering of another for personal gain is anathema—but Wei Ying is already summoning the spirit to its pouch and turning away.

“I can use Empathy then too,” he says. “So we know the best questions to ask.”

He bumps Lan Wangji’s shoulder with his own, warmth and solidity in the dark. An anchor to the present; here, and now.

“We should get some food into you before nine. Wouldn’t want you going hungry.” He grins in the moonlight, familiar and teasing. “Wen Qing will skin me alive if I let a patient of hers lose progress so quickly.”

He presses the spirit pouch into Lan Wangji’s hand and steps past him, close enough for a moment that Lan Wangji is tempted to stop him. To take his hand, and pull him closer. To lean into the soul bond between them until he can see truth reflected in Wei Ying’s eyes. What am I to you, he longs to ask. Why are you doing this?

Such action would be unjust, and ill repayment for the courtesy and help Wei Ying has freely offered him. He curls his hands in his sleeves, and keeps them that way all the winding walk back to the inn and their shared room. He keeps his silence through their meal. It seems the safest option, and Wei Ying does not expect him to speak while eating.

“Get some sleep, Lan Zhan,” he says after their evening meditations, settling as a shadowy silhouette by the window opposite the bed. “I promise I won’t disturb you.”

It’s the same pattern they’ve followed for all of their travels thus far, but it feels different, enclosed within four walls. The privacy screen between them as Lan Wangji changes into his sleep robes and takes down his hair is probably more concealing than their tent ever could be, but the space is bigger. It feels different.

Foolish, he tells himself as he replaces the talisman on his wrist. Foolish, as he carefully folds his robes and the beizi and lays a pale cream hair ribbon over the top of the bundle. There is no reason it should be different in any way, except that today he heard Wei Ying play Wangxian in clear sunlight, and even the certain knowledge that Wei Ying does not remember the song’s origin cannot erase sound of those notes carried on Wei Ying’s breath from his memory.

He meditates again before he sleeps, hoping the slow cycle of qi through his meridians might soothe the tangle of emotions that has taken to lodging itself in his chest, but that too, if not precisely foolish, is likely wasted effort. These thoughts, these wants have followed him through war and despair and even his own death. One more night’s contemplation is unlikely to make much difference.

Wei Ying is still at the window when he finally succumbs to sleep, a shadow against the pinprick stars that dot the sky. Familiar like nothing else he’s found in this second chance at life.

*

He’s shaken awake before five, well before dawn has begun to lighten the sky. Wei Ying’s hand is over his mouth and he freezes, uncertain what Wei Ying’s hovering presence above him means until Wei Ying grabs his hand and starts tracing characters against his palm: “ward” and “enemy” and “leave” and “now.”

Questions can come later. Now, Wei Ying leans back so he can sit up, and passes him his clothes and boots and a dark travel cloak. He leaves a piece of paper and a string of coins on a table while Lan Wangji dresses himself, and casts a talisman over them both—muffled footsteps, to guard them from even a cultivator’s senses.

They steal out the window furthest from the stables and creep over the roofs until Lan Wangji is certain there is no other human soul who might see them drop into the yard.

Another note and string of coins in the stables, another pair of talismans over Heitu and Xiaoying and they lead their mounts silently through the dark, quiet streets. Even the street cleaners are not yet making their rounds at this hour, every house and business barred against the dark.

Wei Ying does not speak until they have traveled several li beyond the city’s gates, moving northeast once more.

“It might be nothing,” he murmurs, though for whose benefit Lan Wangji cannot guess. If he truly thought the situation so harmless he would not have arranged such a secret departure, with so much power poured into staying hidden. Nor would he, as the day stretches on, release talismans to set false trails, or detour downriver for nearly an hour. There is no careless chatter all day. No music, no humor. Even their mounts seem to register the change—Heitu is restless at every stop they make, and Xiaoying is irritable. Wei Ying rides in an attitude Lan Wangji has not seen him adopt since the Sunshot Campaign ended, all sharp-eyed glances and knife-edge control. He sleeps in cat naps, jerking awake after less than half an hour’s rest and pressing onward.

The first day passes without incident. The first night. The second day.

The thing about mules is, the difference between a horse’s neigh and a donkey’s bray sounds very much like a scream. Lan Wangji jolts awake on their second night out of Yingchuan to Heitu bray-screaming at a truly painful volume as both she and Xiaoying crash through the underbrush that surrounds their small, tightly-warded camp. Wei Ying is already on his feet and outside the tent, swearing. Lan Wangji makes it outside just as he lights a talisman between his fingers, and a sword arcs out of the night towards Lan Wangji’s face.

Lan Wangji doesn’t even unsheathe his training sword as he lunges aside and raises it, scabbard and all, to block the attack. His opponent’s blade is shrouded in shadow, their face concealed by a mask. They moves swiftly, obviously accustomed to fighting in the dark, and in close quarters. Wei Ying throws a talisman that knocks them back far enough for Lan Wangji to unsheathe his blade, but then Wei Ying too is distracted by a pair of attackers who drop out of the trees, swords and faces similarly obscured.

Lan Wangji cannot watch Wei Ying and defend himself at the same time—not with a practice blade. He narrows his focus. A practice blade cannot stand up to too many direct hits from a true spiritual weapon. He must be quick, dodging rather than blocking, feinting more than attacking.

It’s no way to win a fight, but it does betray something about his attacker—they are familiar with the Lan sword form, and the Lan unarmed form as well. Lan Wangji twists under their sweeping sword and flicks a talisman against their abdomen. It is one of Wei Ying’s and makes his opponent stagger back, allows an opening: Lan Wangji brings his practice blade up in an arc to slice across his opponent's hand, but they spin away before it connects.

Lan Wangji feels a second attack coming and dives away, rolling to a new vantage. He catches a glimpse of Wei Ying, talismans ready in his hands, before his own two attackers are upon him.

He cannot keep this up for long. A few of his talismans hit, but they and the practice blade can only do so much, his spiritual energy is so low—Chenqing sounds behind him, a seeking, coaxing string of notes that visibly startles Lan Wangji’s opponents. One swears, a startled if muffled exclamation that unmistakably contains the phrase, “Yiling Laozu.” The other—the one more familiar with Lan forms—calls for a retreat even while redoubling the attack on Lan Wangji.

There are screams to Lan Wangji’s left as a bright line of pain draws itself across his ribs; a slash he couldn’t quite fully avoid. Another scream to his right. A corpse reaches out of the dark and grasps at his first attacker’s mask.

Lan Wangji and his opponent both jump back. The one who called the retreat grabs his fellow’s arm and then, with the distinctive flash of a transportation talisman, they’re gone.

At least, the ones Lan Wangji faced are gone. The two who faced Wei Ying are unmistakably dead—one by what looks like a combination of talisman damage and the strength of a fierce corpse, and one to what looks like a talisman and trampling. Xiaoying is still worrying the body and snorting, and Heitu paces along the edge of the ward behind her, nickering softly. Lan Wangji should not be surprised they haven’t stampeded into the night. Both were trained for night hunting, after all.

He finds Wei Ying still standing with Chenqing in his hands. For a moment, they just look at each other, across the camp.

“Alright?” Wei Ying asks.

“Mn,” Lan Wangji agrees. His wound is bleeding, but is not serious enough to impede his movements. It can wait. “And Wei Ying?” he asks.

“Fine, fine,” Wei Ying waves his hands, dismissive. “I’ll see to the mules, shall I? You want to check over the bodies?”

“Of course,” Lan Wangji agrees.

Wei Ying approaches Xiaoying slowly, with a calm litany of soothing words, and manages to coax her away from the body and pet her until only the sweep of her tail betrays her restlessness. He checks both her and Heitu over for injury by candlelight while Lan Wangji lights his own candle, approaches their dead attackers and removes their masks. Two men, blood on their faces from the combined injuries they took. Dark robes. No particularly identifying features between them. Their swords are similarly unfamiliar. He examines the contents of their sleeves: A compass that points to the fierce corpse that still lingers nearby no matter how Lan Wangji moves it. A small knife. A few coins. A slip of paper, undecipherable even by candlelight. Encoded. Nothing he can use to identify them.

Wei Ying joins him.

“This is one of mine,” he says, picking up the compass. “Compass of evil. Points at malevolent energies. One of the older versions, but we sell them to anyone.” He nods at their attackers. “Anyone you recognize?” he asks.

“No,” Lan Wangji admits. Pain is making itself more intimately known as adrenaline fades. The wound over his ribs burns.

“Me either.” Wei Ying is frowning. “And that other one definitely seemed like their leader, and he was definitely more interested in you which is—you’re hurt.”

Lan Wangji looks down at himself. Blood has soaked into the clean-sliced edges of his hanfu over the wound. He wants to say, It’s nothing, but that’s habit speaking. In his first life, it would already be healing, the bleeding slowed to nothing. This new body and still-healing core are not so quick to recover.

In his first life, memory insists, he would not have taken such a strike at all.

“Sit down,” Wei Ying urges him. “Come on, sit, I’ll get the med bag, Wen Qing always packs one.” He guides Lan Wangji to the tent and pushes him to sit on a cushion of blankets with gentle touches at his elbow, his shoulder, his wrist.

“Why did you say you weren’t hurt,” he scolds as he digs through a saddle bag. “I asked if you were hurt—”

“It is not serious,” Lan Wangji protests, but less strongly than he intended. The wound stings as he breathes, and he does not wish to push Wei Ying away as he leans close to inspect it. He is tired, having slept little more than Wei Ying for two nights together now, and though he knows things are different now, that they have both changed, that he has even less reason to hope now than he did then—it feels too much like the Xuanwu’s cave, old longing mixing with the present and all his forlorn wishes that things might have been different, that Wei Ying might remember—

He doesn’t protest as Wei Ying mutters at him and tugs at his hanfu to bare his shoulder, and chest, and the wound itself. There are differences, of course. The tent is clean and softly lit rather than a dirty cave with a tiny flickering fire. Wen Qing’s ointments are cool and smooth on the cut, an almost instant relief. There are proper bandages to apply to the wound, and he wears no forehead ribbon for Wei Ying to steal and misuse. He is not so injured as to be suffering fever, for all that he feels too-warm with Wei Ying’s hands on his skin, watching wisps of his hair swing over his face as he talks.

“You’re not supposed to get hurt, Lan Zhan, you have to tell me if it happens,” he’s saying, a frown creasing between his brows and tugging at his lips. “I can’t—” he shakes his head.

Lan Wangji does not respond, too occupied with keeping his fingers curled into his palms, trying to keep his mind on the conversation and not the play of light over Wei Ying’s cheekbones. The new lines in his face, the warmth of him and the careful touch of his fingertips, so much gentler and more practiced now than five—no, eighteen years ago. Eighteen years since that cold, damp, terrible cave. Fifteen since the soul bond made itself known on Phoenix Mountain. Thirteen since Lan Wangji chose Wei Ying’s life over his own.

The soul bond hums under his skin at every touch, and Wei Ying never mentions it, never falters in his movements. But he doesn’t pull away, either, not when Lan Wangji’s hands touch his as they both reach to adjust his robes at once, not as they discuss the fight—the clear surprise from their ambushers at encountering Chenqing, the focus of the apparent leader on Lan Wangji; his knowledge of Lan forms and the lack of Wang-Sect colors. Wei Ying pulls out the notes from the compound to compare to the note found on their attacker and does not even pause when Lan Wangji leans into his shoulder to see better, too tired to restrain himself, too tired to resist his warmth any longer. Tired of waiting, and hoping, and watching himself so carefully, and it’s then that he realizes:

They have never been like this. So close. So comfortable for such a stretch of time without either distance or a harsh word sputtering between them. These days of traveling, even the music, playing together—this is not old patterns, re-trod.

This is something new.

[thissimplefeelingzine]

I know this is for charity but this zine was cheap & cheerful; it feels (though bigger/shinier) now pricey? Esp. the (gorgeous) prints. Part of zine/fandom is non/low profit also in the community sense, to minimize financial barriers to what we & others love- most of us just want to share. I know it's for an LGBT charity but for some LGBTQ+ people their fandom/fanwares IS their lifesaver & it's depressing to be unnecessarily(?) priced out of it 😔 Sorry if margins are in fact close- do clarify!X

The earlier zine ran with one mod and many fewer contributors, and had a different method of submission than we used. I can't speak for the finances of the zine under previous administration (who was in a different country than me, the current finance mod), but I can promise you that these prices are as low as I could make them, while being able to fund this zine. As it is, there is a very real chance that we may not make our printing cost, in which case I personally will be making up that difference. That's not something I can easily afford to do, but it's what I WILL do, if necessary.

The printing costs for all of these things, even paper products, are not cheap. There are minimum order sizes for everything included in these bundles; even if i only sell 1 copy of a zine, I would still have to buy ~125 of them (There are some printers that will sell you a single copy of a printed book, buuuut usually for about 40$). Our prices were derived by figuring out how much it would cost to make all of these items, and also to ship a complete bundle to each of our contributors. We chose good thick paper (more expensive) because our contributors have been working on the works included in this project for nearly a year, & paper makes or breaks printed work. They aren't getting paid, because this zine is for charity, but their time and efforts are extremely valuable to me, and the least I can do to compensate their efforts is send them a copy of everything we make, shipping included. Our contributor base is about 50% international (relative to where they'll be shipping from); domestic shipping is ~10$, and international was ~17$ last time I checked (& has been rising.) The cost of compensating contribs is more than half of our total cost. And that's pretty normal for a project like this, I'm told.

These prices were chosen through long consideration and discussion with experienced zine mods. The price of the zine itself is a little cheaper than I was advised to list (the advice was 15$ digital and flat 25$ physical and then extra on top of that for the inclusion of a pdf.) Before we made that call, I spent months watching every zine advertising account I could find to make sure that our prices were reasonable based on what we were offering and in comparison to other zines-- the advice from people I'd asked matched that data. I'm 2$ below that price-- It's only a couple of dollars, but even that small cut makes it significantly riskier that we will not meet our funding goals and I, personally, will be making up the difference.

It's also worth noting that this edition of our zine includes more content than previous editions. We've dramatically increased the number of artists included, because we wanted to encourage as much participation as we could. This zine was previously a saddle-bound volume; we are now perfect bound (pages start to buckle in saddle-bound after a certain numer), finishing out at 67 pages. Our cover is thicker cover-stock, and will have a protective coating. Our content is coming from 24 artists & 5 writers, + an extremely dedicated team of mods. (The previous editions had significantly fewer contribs per edition, allowing it to be saddle-bound)

The TL;DR of this post is that I truly, truly wish I could sell these at lower prices, but it is very important important to me that I get a copy of these bundles to all of my contributors at no cost to them, in exchange for the hours and hours of work that they've already given to me for free. I also wish i could just eat the cost of production & contributor compensation & domestic + international shipping, but I have rent & extremely high medication costs, & i cannot easily afford to take a couple hundred dollar cost on top of that (much less the $1k+ cost of printing a zine w just paper merch on high enough quality substrates to do justice to my contribs). I am sympathetic, though-- I've been a fan who couldn't afford fanworks. So here's this-- if we're out of your funding scope and you absolutely CANNOT afford our digital price ($13), go ahead and shoot us an email with how much you can afford to pay. I'm not going to make you any promises-- we HAVE to hit our funding threshold for me to be able to do this, full stop -- but *IF* we meet our funding thresholds, I will see what I can afford to do. (& even then, it would be PDF only; honor system (since this is already an extra level of logistics) so please only use that option if you must-- but i also do feel strongly about being as non-exclusive as i can, so yep. IF we hit our funding thresholds, i will see what I can do.)

If you can't tell, this really really is something that I struggled with-- and continue to struggle with-- for a long time, as someone who DEEPLY believes that fanworks should be free and available, but also believes that I don't have the right to steal the labor of my contribs without compensating them + also has fairly high medical costs that will be hit if i need to personally make up for any difference (which is ALWAYS a risk, whenever you do a project like this).

[snowdice]

Gaps in His Files (Part 7) [Relabeled; Refiled Series]

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Relationships: Logan/Patton

Characters:

Main: Logan, Patton

Appear: Remy, Virgil (but only in the epilogue)

Summary:

Logan Berry has learned many things the last 10 years: a lot of math and physics, a bit of humility, and how to be a hero being just a few. Through his education, his experience teaching, and his exploits as the superhero Bluebird, he’s changed in a lot of small and large ways. He has recorded these changes in well-organized documents and files. He’s even had to create two new file designations: a red one for files about his moonlighting at Bluebird, and a light blue one dedicated to his boyfriend, Patton.

When Bluebird is targeted by a memory device and all of those 10 years of progress suddenly disappear, Patton Sanders and Logan’s extensive files are left as his only resource to get those memories back. But what is Patton supposed to do when there are clear gaps in his files? And what does he do when he is one of them?

This is set 25 years before Sometimes Labels Fail though it’s story is completely independent of it and it is not necessary to read that one first.

Notes: Superhero AU, memory loss, past child abuse, past child neglect, unhealthy ideas about ones place in relationships, emotional suppression, self-deprecating thoughts, medical procedures mentioned, very brief unhealthy views of sex

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

After Logan finished eating, Patton showed him his office. First, he was given his personal and work files which were familiar in organizational structure even if they had years’ worth of new information in them and his work files had a new subfolder for teaching instead of being purely for schoolwork. Yet, the thing that most interested Logan was the new file designation which Patton retrieved for him by finding a key in a hidden desk drawer compartment and using it to open a secret compartment in the wall. The files there were red and completely new to Logan. Thankfully, they still had quite a bit of structure that he was able to pick up quickly and there were easy to read tables of contents with understandable subsection titles.

He flipped curiously through the first few. They reflected the story Patton had told him earlier in content as well as form. The beginning files were either blue for work or plain white since his foray into superherodom had started from an academic source.

Though he had not known Logan at the time by his own admission, Patton’s knowledge of his early days of being a superhero were perfectly accurate based on the files. That combined with his knowledge about where the files were in the first place, stroked Logan’s curiosity regarding the man even more. Logan was not a trusting person, at least he had not been at 18, and he imagined not much had changed in the last 10 years. So, he had to wonder what it was about Patton that had made him willing to share so much about his life and clearly heavily protected aspects of his life at that. He did not imagine he would share his exploits as a hero with just anyone.

And, if it were just his exploits as a hero, perhaps he would have even understood that. It was good to have an ally, especially one with useful skills such as a doctor. Yet, Patton’s knowledge went deeper than even that to things more personal, ones not in these files or any of his others. He knew things about Logan: his favorite color, why he prefers some fabrics over others, and stories that had never left his lips in his current memories.

Why? He had to wonder. What made this person so different than everyone else?

Certainly, he could see the appeal of him as a romantic partner in the theoretical sense.

He was a doctor which was useful considering Logan’s superhero status likely led to physical injuries sometimes. In addition, that was a well-paying, respectable job, though it did have an unpredictable work schedule. Achievement in that field spoke of enough intellect to be on par with Logan even if they were in different areas.

He was also clearly adequately skilled in other things. He had managed to find Logan and get him back to his apartment and seemed to have enough emotional control to do what was necessary in the situation.

This was someone he imagined his parents would have likely expected for him as a romantic partner (if they expected anything at all). Though, Logan did have to worry that if they were both not particularly emotionally expressive then there may not be a good balance in the relationship.

Logan watched as he flipped through one of his personal files to get a picture from his college graduation to show him with practiced ease. He was comfortable around Logan’s organizational system, he noted. That was something no one had ever bothered to be before. Most people either tolerated or scorned the way he kept his files, but Patton knew his way around it almost as well as Logan himself, better in fact when it came to the new red files, fingers always flipping to the correct pages in seconds when Logan asked questions.

It was nice to have someone care enough to learn it.

It felt as though something shifted marginally inside his chest at the thought of someone being patient enough to learn how Logan organized his life. To do so was to basically learn how Logan’s mind worked. He… hadn’t known that was something he might want.

Oh.

That, he suddenly knew with clarity, that was why. Or at least part of why. It had to be.

“So,” Patton broached suddenly, likely catching him staring and wonder why, “Why don’t you tell me about yourself?”

Logan blinked at him. “You already know me. Better than I do myself at the moment.”

“Sure, but I’ve only known versions of you that I’ve known.”

“Yes. That is typically how reality works.”

“Well not today,” he pointed out and… fair point. “Plus, maybe you’ll start to remember more if you start talking about yourself. Like when you’re trying to remember the title of a song so you sing the lyrics you know until you get to the point where they use the title in the song.”

Logan considered that. “That sounds like a rational strategy to try. What should I talk about?”

“Well, I know a lot about the events that happened in your life, but not really what you thought about them at the time. What are things you like and dislike in your life right now. You know,” he paused, “what are things you find annoying? Stuff like that.”

“I like coffee,” Logan said after a moment of consideration, “and school. Libraries. I like order and schedules and it makes me uncomfortable when things don’t go to plan. I don’t like impromptu things or eating outside. I don’t really like when people are overly emotional or when they cry mostly because I never know how to respond. I don’t like my English teacher because she once had a mental breakdown crying about a dream she had for 30 minutes when a student asked her if she’d graded our papers. Also, she was homophobic. I like math and science and my parents. Though, I dislike when they insist, I try to go out and “have fun.” I especially disliked when they set me up with a date for the homecoming. When I said I didn’t want to go especially with a girl they set me up with a boy for the next dance which was… nice as they attempted to listen to me, but they entirely missed the point. I dislike messes. I like jam. I want to major in math and physics and get my PhD in at least one… that seemed to work out. My calculus teacher was my favorite even though everyone else seemed to resent her, but we also mostly all passed the advanced placement test, so I think it was worth it. Also, she was kind.”

“You had a homophobic English teacher?” Patton asked.

“Ah, yes, did I never mention?” Logan asked. “She made her views known to a boy in the year below me and got fired a month ago.”

“You never told me about that.”

“Perhaps I decided she was no longer worth dwelling on. The man who took her place seems adequate, though I am not in his class. I also like my current English teacher. She says she got her teaching degree later in life and before that used to be a cultural anthropologist. She tells us stories about different places she’s been.”

Patton smiled. “She sounds interesting,” he said.

“Yes, and it is quite an interesting course. It is an extra one beyond what I must take to graduate. We write a research paper over the course of the entire semester.” Logan paused for a long moment. “This does not seem to be doing anything.”

Patton nodded. “Okay,” he said. “That’s fine. We’ll try something else. Maybe we should have lunch first though.”

Logan was starting to feel a bit hungry. “That is a good idea.”

Want to read more? Click below!

AO3 Part 8

[theworldbrewery]

multiclass your... BLOOD HUNTER!!

As per the request by @mstheoverflow, today we’re taking a look at the Wisdom-based “original flavor” Blood Hunter class. As of right now, this class is available on DnDBeyond, but in the coming weeks, the update to an Intelligence-based version of the class is expected to supersede this existing one, so if you’re attached to this version, save the details now.

A couple key things: to multiclass out of Blood Hunter, you must have a 13 in Wisdom as well as a 13 in either Strength or Dexterity--that or is really key because it makes your multiclassing really flexible. There are also special rules for multiclassing into warlock if you are of a certain subclass, which I’ll get into later.

Let’s dig in!

Blood Hunter + Barbarian

If you chose to be a strength-centric blood hunter, this multiclass is baller. No joke. Consider: while raging, you halve all normal weapon damage (you don’t halve crimson rite damage unless you take the correct totem in the barbarian Totem Warrior subclass at third level, but that could be arranged). Furthermore, your Crimson Rite damage to yourself can be used to sustain your rage if you’re at risk of dropping it. Reckless attacks at second level increase your potential for a critical hit, which would also double damage from your Crimson Rite, and your rage will have no effect on Blood Maledict curses. Since you probably have a high CON to compensate for the damage you deal to yourself, this is also great for your Unarmored Defense barbarian feature. An excellent option for a strength-oriented blood hunter! (note: if you’re raging and transformed per Order of the Lycan, you fail your bloodlust save automatically--yikes!)

Blood Hunter + Bard

Unfortunately, a low-level bard’s best perks are the bonus-action Bardic Inspirations, which take away from your potential offhand attack, Blood Maledicts, and Crimson Rite activation. On the plus side, you can gain Jack-of-All-Trades, Song of Rest, and use the light spellcasting from bard to cast a buff or debuff. It’s not going to hamper you too much, but it’s not outstanding, either. Definitely can be made to work well, especially if you are Order of the Profane Soul and want a couple new cantrips and spell slots to enhance your casting.

Blood Hunter + Cleric

This is what bard could be if it weren’t playin’, as the kids say. Cleric relies on Wisdom, which works for your existing blood hunter abilities, and you’ll get three cantrips instead of 2 (as well as the standard 2 spell slots). Use a cleric’s buff or debuff casting while you focus on melee attacks, and you’re golden--take War domain if you want to focus on volume of hits, or take Tempest to maximize Rite of the Storm (and potentially Rite of the Roar) damage with your channel divinity and add a damaging reaction. 

Blood Hunter + Druid

At first level, druid can’t offer you much, which is a shame since the wisdom ability works in your favor. But if you really want this and you go after the wild shape at second level, be prepared: whether or not you can apply Crimson Rite to your beast shape “weapons” (claws and bite attacks) is totally up to your DM, and you shouldn’t do this multiclass without consulting them first. If you get permission, this could be outstanding; if not, the druid isn’t really worth it.

Blood Hunter + Fighter

With the fighter multiclass, you stand to gain an extra fighting style and, more importantly, your Second Wind, which can be make-or-break for a blood hunter’s self-damaging oeuvre. At second level, your Action Surge can give you extra chances to hit your opponents, as well. It’s actually quite well-suited to you, if not the powerhouse that the barbarian can be under the right conditions.

Blood Hunter + Monk

Now this... this is beautiful. Your dex and wisdom are perfect for the monk skillset, and you can apply monk damage bonuses to weapons that are anointed with your Crimson Rite. You’ll also gain Unarmored Defense, which makes your AC 10+Dexterity mod+Wisdom mod. At second level you get Unarmored Movement and of course, the coveted Ki points. All this is excellent, but here’s the juiciest bit: if you’re a Lycanthrope blood hunter, your unarmed strikes also count as weapons for crimson rite while you’re transformed, further enhancing your attacks using Flurry of Blows, as well as increasing your AC and reducing damage.

Blood Hunter + Paladin

In contrast to the monk, this one is not as well-suited. Your Lay on Hands will force you to decide between taking 3 total attacks on a turn (two for your action and offhand for bonus action) and doing marginal healing. Divine Smite is great, as are the other spellcasting smites, but we must recall the paladin prereqs are Strength and Charisma, so you have just one of two of the needs met (assuming you’re using strength for blood hunter stuff). Smites are really the only perk to this multiclass at low levels.

Blood Hunter + Ranger

This is another option that perfectly blends with the blood hunter skillset. If you’re looking to go for something less combat-y and diversify your non-combat abilities, this is a great option! The fighting style and spellcasting at second level can keep you in the game for combat purposes, applying spells like Hunter’s Mark to increase damage, and you’ll gain a new skill proficiency, bonuses against your favored enemy, and bonuses on favored terrain. 

Blood Hunter + Rogue

A dextrous blood hunter can have a very fun time as a rogue! You’ll gain a skill proficiency, proficiency with thieves’ tools, and expertise as far as skills go, a new language in the form of thieves’ cant, and the ever-coveted Sneak Attack--you’ll only get 1d6 to start, but extra damage is excellent (given that you must have advantage to get sneak attack and thereby double your odds of a critical hit). If you go to second level, your Cunning Actions might help your hitpoint-insecure blood hunter from taking too many hits.

Blood Hunter + Sorcerer and Wizard

I’m lumping these two together because honestly, the answer’s roughly the same. It’s nice to get spells, sure, but neither of these casters have something special to offer the blood hunter. They’re so casting-focused, you’ll struggle to integrate them with your melee attacker. They don’t share your ability score prowesses, either; altogether, the sorcerer can offer you more than the wizard (but if your intelligence is higher, take wizard).

Blood Hunter + Warlock

So first off, the warlock can be a great addition because your casting is so limited. In your case, it’s an asset: you don’t need to waste time on spell slots. either up your AC or take up a concentration spell with Hex or Witch Bolt to deal damage in a passive way as you attack, and potentially employ cantrips to enhance your attacks or attack at range in a pinch. At second level, your eldritch invocations can make you even more badass, but we won’t get into those because there’s so much flexibility.

Now, if you’re Order of the Profane Soul, the rules here are a little different. From the page: “If multiclassing Order of the Profane Soul with Warlock levels, add a third of your blood hunter levels (rounded down) to your Warlock level and consult the Warlock progression table for total Spell Slots, and Spell Slot Level. To decide your spell casting ability for your warlock spells, choose that of the class with the higher level (choose between the two if levels are equal).”

That is to say, if you’re a 9th-level blood hunter and a first-level warlock, you’re considered a 4th-level warlock for the purposes of your total spell slots and spell level. So you’ll still have 2 second-level slots for the first level, but when you level up, blood hunter 9/warlock 2, you’ll count as a 5th level warlock, and immediately increase your spell slots to 3rd level--and because you have more levels in blood hunter, you can use your Wisdom to cast them.

And that’s everything! The old version of the blood hunter is tried-and-true, and if you want to hang on to it and even consider multiclassing from it, here are precisely the tools you need to do so!

If you enjoy our work here, please consider supporting us on our Ko-Fi page! 

[cindylouwho-2]

RECENT NEWS, RESOURCES & STUDIES, May 2, 2021

Welcome to my latest summary of recent ecommerce news, resources & studies including search, analytics, content marketing, social media & Etsy. If you are interested in Etsy news, please read my top story below, as there seem to be a lot of changes afoot. (There is also a section general Etsy news below that.)

If you have any questions or news you would like me to cover, please drop me a line here on Tumblr, reply to this post, email me, or contact me on Twitter.

TOP NEWS & ARTICLES

Something is brewing at Etsy: as of April 26, people in almost all non-Etsy Payments countries “temporarily” cannot open new shops. They hid this development in a Help file, but someone reported it to Ecommerce Bytes, which garnered more attention. Why does this matter? Currently, Etsy Payments (EP) is only available in 44 countries; i.e., most of the world cannot currently open a new shop on Etsy. [Updated May 3 2021] Apparently the only exception is India; see the screenshot below, which someone kindly sent me:

(please click to see it in more detail, or check it out on Twitter)

There was no warning, and no published end date, even though they say it is temporary. Of course, they say it is to protect buyers, but they said that when they removed standalone PayPal too, and we know that was just about making more money. It’s possible they are adding new payment companies to the backend which will be able to operate in most of these countries, greatly expanding their take from EP. The first quarter report is scheduled for May 5, and that is often the time they announce new or expanded income streams. Expect to learn more sometime around then. In the meantime, watch for payment glitches.

It is also possible that the above situation is related to the glut of bad press Etsy has garnered recently. They released a blog post on April 29th, explaining how they plan on spending $40 million extra this year on marketplace enforcement. Turns out, they were just trying to get out in front of an April 30th report from Business Insider [paywall], which describes 800 policy violations in listings on the site. You can get the details in articles from Engadget and Gizmodo. This might get more traction, as both Insider and Gizmodo noted it is very easy to find more prohibited and even illegal items on Etsy.

“After Etsy deleted the listings the outlet identified, Insider reports that it was still able to find several others for ivory products, brass knuckles, mandrake roots, tools for using cannabis concentrates, mass-produced products, and other banned items. We poked around Etsy’s marketplace as well, and within a few minutes found a bunch of prohibited products, including a vintage ivory bracelet put up for sale as recently as March, several weapons that are plainly marketed as such, and a shop with more than 1,000 reviews selling all manner of spells for attracting love, wealth, and what have you.” [from Gizmodo]

Note that Etsy has also changed the wording of its Prohibited Items policy to include new definitions for counterfeit items. See discussion on this Reddit thread. Etsy is also still getting negative attention for allowing fake COVID-19 vaccine cards to be posted for sale. Vice has the most recent article, and Forbes has an overview of this hot new scam area.

So, is all of this linked, and if yes, what does it mean? Etsy hasn't cared about enforcing its listing policies for many years, as long as the media doesn't notice. Heck, you can still buy gift boxes of manufactured candy in thousands of shops, which is expressly prohibited, yet reporting never removes them. Is the media finally noticing enough to make a difference, or is Etsy really embarking on a huge cleanup that includes (at least temporarily) banning people from most countries from opening new shops? We will likely learn more this month, and perhaps even this week.

ETSY NEWS

Etsy says that shoppers are searching for “eco-friendly” items more often this year, and released a trend report on the topic. Insights include “42% YoY increase in searches on Etsy for reusable cotton menstrual pads...100% YoY increase in searches on Etsy for reusable straws...76% YoY increase in searches on Etsy for food covers...54% YoY increase in searches on Etsy for reclaimed wood shelves...176% YoY increase in searches on Etsy for environmentally friendly candles...712% YoY increase in searches on Etsy for eco-friendly tissue paper...285% YoY increase in searches on Etsy for vintage hoodies.” Definitely read the report if you want to know everything that people are looking for.

They also did a UK-based article on trends in outdoor items. Search tips of note: “2,644% YoY increase in UK searches on Etsy for patio furniture...Over 1,000% YoY increase in UK searches on Etsy for spring wreaths...1,266% YoY increase in UK searches on Etsy for garden lights or lanterns” It is hard to say how much these trends can be extrapolated to other countries, as the UK appears to have embraced online shopping much more during the pandemic than some other countries (see story below).

The latest Etsy Success podcast [transcript with podcast links] covers their buyer research, as well as a few questions from sellers. Not much here, except for the fact that they do expect wedding sales to pick up.

Reverb had a really large data breach, exposing the personal information of over 5 million customers.

As mentioned above, Etsy’s first quarter financial results for 2021 will be out on May 5th.

Apparently, Etsy is testing videos in search; here is a forum thread on the topic.

SEO: GOOGLE & OTHER SEARCH ENGINES

Here is an intermediate/semi-advanced article on ecommerce websites and common SEO issues. If you don’t do any of your own coding and don’t have much control over site design and indexing, skip the first 3 points.

Link building: what is a high-quality link? (you know, the type we are always told we need.) Moz’s Whiteboard Friday covers the basics. [video & transcript]

If you are new to blogging or writing instructional articles for your website, this template for writing for both readers and for Google SEO should be very useful.

Google introduced an algorithm update for product reviews starting April 8th. If you review other products on your website or blog, you will want to get the details here and here.

The Google page experience algorithm update has been delayed; it is now going to start in June and be completed by the end of August. That and more is covered in the Google Search News video for April. [YouTube video with highlights and links in the comments]

Yes, you can use SEO to get more attention to your podcasts. Here’s a detailed how-to.

Focussing on YouTube? Here are some tools for YouTube SEO. (Some are free or have free versions.)

There are probably as many Google SEO myths as there are Google algorithm factors, but Google saying something isn’t true isn’t always proof it is a myth. With that in mind, please enjoy this summary of 15 Google ranking factor myths (some of which are in dispute).

[semi-advanced content] The current state of long tail SEO has changed due to both searcher behaviour and Google, and that has led to both more and less opportunity. [Google redirecting results to what it thinks the searcher really wanted, even when the exact words aren’t on the page that they rank first, reminds me of what is happening with Etsy search lately.]

(CONTENT) MARKETING & SOCIAL MEDIA (includes blogging & emails)

Facebook still has the most traffic in the US, compared to all other social networks, but YouTube is even more popular. YouTube and Reddit are the only established major platforms with significant growth since 2019. You can read more details from the actual study here.

Instagram is working on new ways for creators to make money on the platform, not just those with business accounts.

HubSpot put together a summary of how the algorithms work on Facebook, Twitter, And Instagram.

Reddit appears to be testing a group voice chat feature, which would compete with Clubhouse.

TikTok isn’t just for young people; parents and grandparents are now on the platform too.

Twitter’s timeline algorithm (active if you are seeing “Top Tweets” on your feed) tends to ignore a lot of external links, and more than half of the posts can be “suggestions” from people you don’t follow. I’ve noticed lately that Twitter rarely makes suggestions in my chronological timeline anymore, except when I don’t have any activity for over 24 hours.

Twitter obeyed an order from the government of India and removed several dozen tweets which criticized the government’s COVID-19 response. The tweets in question can still be seen outside of India, however.

ONLINE ADVERTISING (SEARCH ENGINES, SOCIAL MEDIA, & OTHERS)

Understanding the definition of “return on ad spend” (ROAS) is the first step to making sure your ROAS is good for your business. “in general, a ROAS of 4:1 ($4 in revenue for every $1 spent) or higher usually suggests a successful campaign. But keep in mind that this is just a benchmark, not something to swear by. Some businesses need a ROAS of 10:1 to stay profitable, while others can do well with just 3:1...A large profit margin means you can continue the campaign with a low ROAS, whereas smaller margins demand a relatively higher ROAS and low advertising costs to maintain profitability. ROAS can also vary by platform. For instance, the average ROAS for Google Ads is 2:1.”

10% of money spent on US online ads last year went to Amazon, but they are still well behind Google. Meanwhile, Facebook’s ad revenue was up 46% in the first quarter of 2021, Google’s was up 32% & Bing's increased by 17%.

eBay launched the ability to automate their Promoted Listings.

ECOMMERCE NEWS, IDEAS, TRENDS

Payment processor Stripe purchased TaxJar, with a plan to integrate it into Stripe. This would provide new options for calculating & filing US taxes to Stripe customers. TaxJar will also have a standalone version for the moment. While TaxJar does do US taxes for business from many countries, it has almost nothing available regarding non-US taxes at this time. (Someone needs to do this for other taxes including UK VAT registration, since they don’t have a minimum threshold for micro businesses, and are no longer in the EU, so won’t be included in the new VAT collection rules come July 1. How many sole proprietors want to be registering for & remitting all of these countries by ourselves?)

In related news, Florida has joined most other US states in requiring online businesses to collect state sales tax even if they have no base in Florida. Missouri is now the only state with sales tax but without such a law, and they are working on it.

eBay has rolled out its new coupon code tool. Also, they released lower than expected projections for the current quarter, which has disappointed the analysts.

Meanwhile, Amazon hugely beat its first quarter expectations, and projects the growth will continue. Prime Day will be in June instead of July this year; date to come.

Also, Amazon is letting its larger brands email customers directly, which was previously not allowed. Customers do have to follow the brand to receive these messages.

Mailchimp will soon be offering ecommerce stores, including a free option that has a 2% transaction fee, or more advanced versions with lower transaction fees for $10 and $29 a month respectively. US and UK customers will be able to start a store as of May 18th.

Shopify probably doesn’t feel that threatened by the new competition, as their first quarter revenue was up more than 100% over the previous year. Note it is estimated they got 8.6% of US ecommerce revenue in the quarter, while some believe that eBay, Apple and Amazon lost market share.

BUSINESS & CONSUMER STUDIES, STATS & REPORTS; SOCIOLOGY & PSYCHOLOGY, CUSTOMER SERVICE

Mastercard says that people worldwide spent $900 billion more online last year compared to 2019. They expect the ecommerce trend of grocery shopping and bargain hunting to continue more than other retail areas.

Regions that had stricter lockdowns during the pandemic may have had a greater increase in ecommerce activity; this report compares the US and the UK.

Generation Z is likely to stop shopping with you if your site has issues. “Seventy-one percent of respondents want the experience to be personalized, and 76% said their favorite brands should reward them for their business, the survey found.”

MISCELLANEOUS

Brave browser has disabled FLoC, Google’s new tracking that is supposed to replace cookies in the next year. They explain why here. If you like Chrome but don’t want FLoC, try DuckDuckGo’s FLoC blocking Chrome extension.

[autoirishlitdiscourses]

Discourse of Saturday, 10 April 2021

You changed would juggle to juggled in line with general academic practice, and you provided a really, your deadline for you, OK? Oversleeping, even though you may find that connection as a thinker or a bit in the novel. Distribution of paper handout. I think that it would be necessary to make it. All in all, I think that you are traveling with a web browser that supports your claim, will result in the formula above is actually quite a good Halloween! However, any good copy of it. I fully appreciate this it's not you agree with you about your ideas more collaboratively. Again, please let me know if you get/zero/points for section in another book, while waiting for the student's schedule hasn't changed, but it's more or less normally adjusted despite being very polished in many ways even though it is that race gets slipperier the more easily accessible representations of the outside world, on the sheet handed out today to be jumped, but really, your recitation, midterm, and the Stars, and this is not entirely satisfying way, and failure to notice an email, or the other students in class with respect, and that's perfectly normal and acceptable at this point whether there is of poor quality: The Dubliners' version of your own logical processes more carefully to be helpful.

However, one sentence at a draft of a letter grade. I had told him that what I'll expect is that I am personally less than half a percent away crossing the line into A-range paper grades discussed in class, then you have any questions, OK? All in all, though perhaps incidental to the rest of the resources you consulted while doing so. Midterm review. All in all substantial ways to go before me, and extreme claims require very strong familiarity with the connection between textual material and related topics, but you picked a good paper here in many ways. Feel free to propose alternatives, but I don't believe I've seen any of the two elements plough, stars and then mercilessly edited your paper being more successful would be higher than an analysis of a reminder that I can bring your hard copy of your main claim in the poem in section. I will do so by that time passes differently when you're at the coin from the final exam except that you can make up for discussion. Another would involve remembering that Yeats's father and brother both named John Butler Yeats were visual artists, and I think that one key element of pushing this concept as far as getting discussion going: you'll get that to give quite a difficult text; there might be to pick out the eighth one without grading it, which seemed to warm up more quickly for you by the time that you haven't done your recitation in the UK and Ireland, regardless of the group members will have to report this to you. You picked a very strong job yesterday you got most of the day before Thanksgiving. As with everything else except for the course website as your model, and that's part of why I want to accomplish. Chris Walker's guest lecture slideshow along.

I think that you finished early. My point is to make intermediate connections that you need particular approaches to Futurism; it's just that I'm poorly qualified to evaluate how passionate a particular depiction of people haven't done the reading. I suspect, is in how you're using them as choices made as a simple concept in many societies, but writing a more specific about what your other discussion points. But everything looks really good beating on the structural schema given to friends: Carlo Linati; Stuart Gilbert J.

I myself tend to agree with me. Third: remember that sometimes sitting down and start writing. If you have any other reason. You've written a very good paper here in many ways, and you're thinking about it, because it's a busy point in the front of the time limit will result in a professional setting. I am performing grade calculations in such a great deal since you gave a thoughtful grace in your paper graded by the time limit has come up with an urgent question the night of section; eight got 9 or higher on the more likely to be just a little below the middle of the texts we are reading by the other students, that this class, but I also feel that there are a lot of ways. If there's someone who's been a pleasure having you in lecture or section, not on me. Well done, and I've gone ahead and confirm that the overall argument will be spent on reviewing for the absolute final deadline to name your poem and connect them to lecture on the day that your thesis at the time limit you've sketched an outline with more rigor. Wednesday, but rather attempts to gloss over anything, but it would be true either for comment or to be reciting as soon as possible. What is my nation? 494-95 p. Which is bad. Yes, that's fine my 6 p. If you have already given up 70 points out of that section within the time that you should also go to bed late tonight and see what people do some of your presentation is unlikely, you should aim for a reason to freak out. Truthfully, I think, always a few things that come from the course at this point in the future. Ultimately, I think that putting V for Vendetta in the front of a chance to add classes without a petition. I suspect the professor hasn't said how much your writing despite some—mostly—rather nitpicky comments I've made some very good paper in other respects. Both of these are often quite good, nuanced writing. The Butcher Boy. Choosing more than 100% of the things the professor to say: if you have any questions, OK? Hi! I could try to avoid them, I'm sorry about that. Has a much longer paper in a way that they've done for most students to add extra space at the final metaphorically speaking, of course grade.

You have to get 5/5 of the test in another class, and Cake next to each other and how that structures the characters' understanding of the historical and cultural ties to the novel; and mop up with Joyce's appropriation and recasting of classical mythology Ulysses in front of me to let the discussion section is UXJU. Again, I think you've got a good impression and pick up every possible point available for the quarter by ⅓ of a proper Works Cited page; any borrowings from anyone at all, you do well just by doing background reading on aspects of the texts with which you can respond productively if they don't warm up quickly is not an easy thing to do it more in your introduction and conclusion around that interpretive claim.

VIII. Another potential difficulty is that we're going to wind up on the feedback for paper topics, in lecture. I appreciate that this is the best clothing possible, because it's so centrally concerned with Irish nationalism are connected in rather interesting. You were clearly a bit too tired tonight to do as well.

Les Demoiselles d'Avignon; Woman with Mustard Pot aha! That is to have been years where I've graded two hundred papers and gave a solid understanding of the entire class. Thanks for letting me know. 238 Reading quiz, if I recall correctly, was mentioned in that part of your TAs for English 150.

Still, an English Paper lots of good work here in a solid, overall, you did well here. Have a good job of choosing not to cancel my office or schedule an appointment with me for any reasons less severe than hospitalization will result in an even more. The Covey 6 p. Do you want it to be to make sure you can point the other hand, posting it on the other reading assignments for Ulysses recitations is over remember that at the beginning of the quality of the quarter, and, if you're busy during that time. I realized that your copy of Word and work it can be a tricky job to engage in micro-level issues of the text s and that tonight was not my area of expertise, one of the format of the class at this stage, your projected paper looks like you're writing more of an A-. Your readings of the work that you were on track throughout your time and wind up posting it on the make-up, and the to a lot of silences let them sit for a good job with it. As far as it were a couple of suggestions. Hi!

Again, well done overall. Question is not good, clear readings of Richard III, from taking an opportunity for you to be substantial deviations from the Aeolus episode of The Wake Forest Book of Irish literature, due on Tuesday night, so let me know if you have other priorities instead of seven, and you related your discussion notes by the poem, and I quite enjoyed having you in any case, let me know and we can chat after lecture. I just heard back from the paper in my margin notes and look at my discretion, although other people to examine the presuppositions that the most part though it is, and giving other people. No real surprises for me to. The Butcher Boy in the specificity that you are hopefully already memorizing. I'll assess each component separately and email it to. Awesome! Sorry for the quarter is theoretically possible but really, your ideas are actually doing? I think that this is what is your job to engage in a more central position in your discussion of as close to every comment, and is mentioned in that case.

For this reason, deciding that you could take Playboy as a source. This set of arguments about a text during the week preceding the section. I'm glad that worked out. I think, to be more successful than just being a good move on your grade in the paper has to teach, and you touched on some important material provided an important maneuver. There are a number of important issues and showing that you picked to the actual amount of time and get you started thinking about the relationship between the different kinds of people the characters was a wonderful and restful holiday break!

Does it answer your specific point.

If you don't email me and I will be scaled to 150, the more that you are quite likely at that point. I think that this is a short description of your email, but they're not yet chosen a recitation for 27 November or 4 December On poems by Paul Muldoon, Quoof Paul Muldoon, provided that you look for cues that this has happened, review briefly any major points into questions, but you're absolutely welcome to talk about this. Have a good Thanksgiving break. 5% on the section hits its average level of deviousness, intelligence, or sent me email or stop by my office or after you reschedule it: technology breaks. Again, thank you for putting so much ground that it's a good thumbnail background to the poem by 4 to 5%, depending on to and the idea that will be thinking closely about how the text to connect your thoughts this is, what do you want to go above and beyond the length limitation work productively for your health. You expressed an interest in the literal sense of the book it appears on your sheet so I wouldn't want to pursue the topic as a group is, or after lecture, and what you think about this profitably, and what the fellow is thinking about how you'd like, etc. The question will be much more apparent to you. Great! More importantly, though, your points because it will help you to think about where you move effectively from text to connect your thoughts are being represented. You also demonstrated that you have several options: prepare a longer selection than the other side of this. Thanks! Something else entirely? Etc. I'm pretty sure there are a real bitch at the very opening bit twelve lines of the texts saying to a specific point about that. Happy Thanksgiving! Let me play devil's advocate here and there memorizing your selection specifically enough that you want to make sure that your body paragraphs don't wander too far afield. Again, I realize. 25 on the issues that you had quite a good set of background information. You did a good move, because in my office door SH 2432E, provided that no one else at all. In romantic relationships by subsuming them under merely bestial impulses; that it curved back to you, not a certain way, and think about their relationship. I think that one, to talk about.

I can just bring it to be productive.

It's not. I have to do, because I think that articulating your criteria for determining what the implications of the quarter, you did quite an impressive move. If I'm wrong about how you disagree with you and use standard citation methodology more carefully to do as soon as possible. Note also that serious problems may lower your grade by 1. Have a wonderful poem, and the way that Beckett conceptualizes it.

Well. What if that works better for you, or could select a selection from each paragraph, and you did quite a good weekend, and might have helped some, here is a waste? No longer legal tender in Britain and Ireland, the winter of perfect communion; To-morrow the bicycle races Through the suburbs on summer evenings: but to-memorize twelve-line chunk; pick a selection that you bring up in discussion. The other people's textual selection in question. For one thing, and setting a positive example for them, in South Hall 1415. You had a good lens for. I Do Like a S'Nice S'Mince S'Pie sung by Corp. —You'll take the exam, and you are working. On what your total points for the announcement in lecture. This is perfectly OK to return to the section meeting and that is not something that you made two genuinely tiny errors, and responded in a comprehensive list. However, you have received a boost of a group of talented readers, and what you'll drop if you are going quite well I have graded all of the total possible points for section in a a central claim in the sense of the recitation assignment or the penalty for backing out at the last minute to use the poems you choose. Nothing that I'm allowed to pass. Think about what specifically was the fact that marriage is primarily important insofar as he makes clear in the class as a whole. But tomorrow afternoon that works best, OK?

If, after lecture tomorrow. So, what immediately suggests itself to me. —Part of the Anglo-Irish Literature, fall back on, and the way that men see and understand women, his understanding of the Anglo-Irish Nugents may very well on the assumption that you will put in a way that they are assumed to feel more intensely, because you will put in a flirtatious correspondence with a lot of similarities to yours.

Again, thank you for doing a large number of sections attended relative weighting 50 _9 Research Paper Letter grades for papers are assigned based on your recitation, you really did quite a strong job! I'll give you does not work as expected/, because the email I promised to forward to your larger-scale concerns with other people in the time, and what you're saying and what you see absurdism most clearly illustrated in the email me a photocopy of that looks good to me I'm looking forward to hearing you do a couple of ways, and you do so in section on 27 November or 4 December discussion of a text that's separated temporally from Punishment, 1984, Brave New World, and because you're going to be a stronger, clearer stand on the web or in posting your notes and get you your add code from him. Hi! Thanks for doing so by 10 a. I am currently leaning towards calling on you. Here's a breakdown on how to deliver it. A is out of the issues that you've actually set yourself up to reciting in lecture today that you think, too, that there are probably thousands of races, and thinking abstractly about the way that it could be. I forgot to say. The sample paper available on the final, and in line 22. As promised in the stream of consciousness and how it changes the grading expectations for performance in a number of additional purposes, as it turns out that I think you most need to represent your own presuppositions more. Lesson Plan for Week 4:30 or so of all my students for review. I can make up for the specific text of the poem and get you your grade at your outline is 4 p.

[worangetraveler-multiverseguide]

And we’re back

Part 2 of chapter 9

We jumps forwards into the girls back on Earth and Iko finally waking up... I was gonna say there’s not much to it but she falling sleep gets mentioned and... *takes suspicious notes*

Before they part way Teru goes all up to how bad she is at being a hero and... at least she ends the selfdeprication to declare she will become stronger so Iko will never have to cry for her again :)

MDSH: Tears... promise... Am I the only one thinking Fullmetal Alchemist?

Me: by this point this manga is hitting all the right spots isnt?

Iko gets it! Teru is sensitive AF (nothing wrong with it) and that reflect in her heart AND power, yeah me likes

“Your hero name is SHY, and your face is burning as red as a flame“

That has to be the most silly idea of why SHY is named SHY... its canon until proven otherwise (and even after)

Laughing together :)

So Teru lives on her own... I’m not ready for that truck to hit yet, can we wait?

And we end the chapter with the looming presence of Stigma doing shit on China which is shown on the news, and Teru being determined (while scared) to be the hero that can protect everyone

So very standard last part... lets jump to chapter 10 right away!

Chapter 10: I hate it (Lady Tsundere chapter? mmm... ok)

Teru is buying stuff at a store and as relatable as usual when no one around calling to people is horrible (I usually dont cry but yeah its awkward)

Oh! seems its a place she used to frequently go with Mei-chan... who’s Mei-c--?

NO! NO TRUCKS TO HIT ME TODAY PLEASE!

Simple backstory talk. Chihiro san has had it rough with her back and her husband’s death but she still does what she can to take care of the store, even when not many people show up anymore...

And the reason Teru showed up after like at minimun 4 years? A memory of a mountain and a painting that’s in the store... and Chihiro san remembers she and her late husband climb its peak every year... she as being doing it alone to remember him but her back is at her limit

Oddly comedic break back to prove it I guess xD

“Losing interest in the places I used to be familiar with” okay Teru stop reading my mind!

She wants to help Chihiro san but she doesnt know how, or at least iis thinking of something but she cant heal her so...

So I guess the plot convinience fairy is knocking at the door?

IT IS! Lady Tsundere is here to give Teru a check-up... oh dear... okay lets be open minded and see where this goes

While on check up we get some extra info! Pilse (Black Lady’s real name) is a university student trying to become a nurse? Nice... also that STILL leaves Teru as the youngest hero by a WIDE margin!

Funny how sometimes one doesnt even question the language barrier yet the media always makes sure to explain WHY people from different countries can communicate in japanese in this case I guess (its the bracelets)

Teru has an idea!

Pilse instantly goes on the defensive

... that was a perfectly timed comedic turn page transition... also Pilse is never NOT gonna be Lady Tsundere

Again, moods are EXTREMELY different but all these heroes share having a kind heart :)

Kind MEDDLESOME heart in this case since Pilse upon Chihiro san’s question if she can hike the mountain inmediatly offered herself (and Teru) to accompany her... I’m starting to like Pilse, good job manga.

A stubborn heart is more accurate then, since she hates hiking and the mountains yet she is good at it cause she wanted to prove she could

Also she is an asshole... and yet this is entertaining so she’s alright

Also also I presume emotional energy makes up for her lack of athletisism but Teru might need to shape herself a bit :P

...

DAMN

I did not see that coming... but comes to show how adversity is not easily noticeable until it hits you with (in this case) her prosptetic legs

I’m glad Pilse has a better opinion on Teru for walking up the mountain despite being difficult to her

... she is still Lady Tsundere... but its now in a WAY more fonde tone

I was actually fearing she was gonna be a tsundere of the obnoxious type but instead I get a kind yet harsh person who has lived hardships and life but fought them off and wants everyone to do so as well, despite she knowing not everyone CAN be the same way inmediatly

OH! Trivia in Pilse’s last name (Dunant) coming from the man who co-funded the red cross? NICE!

Overall great chapter! We get to meet Pilse and Teru trough her interactions with her recognizes she has to climb her mountain, yeah it was good

Gonna start the next chapter but unsure If I’ll post it right away, we shall see

[eves-library]

Lost & Found // Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: You lost your agenda in the morning rush, where you kept not only your work life organized but also your personal, with random thoughts, poems, and quotes spread here and there. A certain super soldier founds it and when he tried to look for any information that could lead him to its rightful owner he can’t help his eyes as they wonder just a little through the small notebook.

Word Count: 2443 

Warnings: None

A/N: Finally!! I finally have something to post. I’m so sorry for the delay but I do have a small surprise for this month. Now, this is my first time posting for Bucky Barnes and I hope you guys liked it! You were sat at your favorite spot inside your favorite coffee. Every day you woke up thirty minutes earlier so you could come in here, have a cup of coffee and read the book you were currently reading. It was a little routine you set on yourself so you could get a moment of peace before you head to your hectic job. You loved your job, however, you knew if you didn’t do this you would probably go crazy. You are the PA to one of the most important editors in New York City, aspiring to soon be one too. Today was different though. Today your alarm didn’t go off on time, nevertheless, you managed to get to the coffee shop to still enjoy your morning coffee. Sadly you didn’t have time enough to read much of your book, so instead, you took out your agenda so you could at least have an early start to your day at the office.

You knew that with all the new technology you could easily maneuver your office and personal life with either your phone or tablet, but you were old school. You prefer to write everything down on paper, it helps your ideas flow easily and it had a soothing effect on you. You looked at the time on the wall of the coffee shop and saw that you still got 10 more minutes to enjoy your coffee. You look through the chores and pending topics for the day when suddenly your phone started ringing, startling you. You picked up a little confused to see the name of your boss lighting the screen. Apparently, she had arrived earlier to the office and realized that three manuscripts that were meant to be delivered three days ago, were missing. She needed you to get as soon as possible to the office so you could help her not only fix the problem a clumsy messenger had caused but also rearrange the day as most of the appointments for the day will be either postponed or canceled until this problem was fixed. 

“Sure thing Sarah, I’m already on my way, I’ll be there soon.” You hurriedly answered at the same time you got up from your sit. With one hand you grabbed your pen and agenda while you hold the phone between your ear and shoulder as you grab the cup of coffee with your now free hand. You needed one more shot of caffeine in your system before getting to work, on what promised to be a crazy and stressful day. As you set the cup down on the table again you grabbed your coat and bag letting your phone drop inside the last one, without looking up you quickly turned around, not noticing the figure behind you. You crashed right into the person, everything that was being held in your hands went flying as you tried not to fall face-first into the floor. 

The person you crashed into had reflexes good enough so only a small bit of his drink got spilled on their hand at the same time they used their other hand to hold one of your forearms so you could regain your balance and not crash into the floor next. You let out a small squeak and you could already feel your cheeks burn with embarrassment. Once you completely regained your balance you looked up to find icy blue eyes already looking right back at you. “Are you okay, miss?” asked the man who was still holding your forearm a small frown of concern on his face. You shook your head bringing yourself out of your stupor, answering back. “Yeah, thank you so much. I am so sorry for bumping into you. I was in a rush and didn’t look up…” You were cut off by an amused chuckle and the sake of his head. “It is okay, miss. there was no harm done, but I do think you would like to get your stuff from the floor.” He said, a small smile present still on his face and the tilt of his head to the direction your things went flying to, you let out a small “Oh god” and he let go of your arm as you went to kneel so you could get your stuff. 

Your cheeks got a darker shade of red as you gathered most of your things, the kind stranger helping you out with stuff more out of reach from your current position. As embarrassment overtook you once again you messily drop everything on your bag not really making a double-check. You got up and accidentally stood a little closer to the stranger. You wanted to bolt so you hurriedly say, ”Again, I’m really sorry for almost running you over.” and then you make a sprint for the exit. 

You made it outside and quickly caught a taxi, your office was just a few blocks away, however, with the time you lost you decided to pay a few bucks to get there as soon as possible. In the end, you still got a long day at work waiting for you. 

Bucky watched as you run out of the coffee shop and got into a taxi. He was amused by you, by how embarrassed you seemed. As the car drove away, he realized he was in the middle of the coffee shop, and he decided to get out of there. He still got a meeting to get too and he was in no mood get his ear chewed off by Tony about the importance of punctuality. He started to move towards the door but his shoe kicked something on the floor and his sight moved downwards, finding an agenda lying on the floor. He quickly picked it up and made his way out of the coffee shop. It was obvious the agenda belonged to the girl that crashed into him a few minutes ago. Neither of them had noticed the agenda laying on the floor and now the girl was gone. Bucky decided he would take it with him and find a way to give it back. 

Once he was back at the compound he made his way to the conference room where Tony had summoned the team. Cup in one hand and agenda in the other he took a seat next to Sam. “Hey man, I swore you were going to be late again,” Sam said with a chuckle and Bucky chuckled back and shook his head. “Sure, as if I wanted to die from annoyment. Tony wouldn’t let me live this one out, you know what this is about?” He set the agenda next to his cup of coffee and that caught Sam’s attention. “No idea man…” Sam said distractedly and turn the agenda so he could get a better look. Bucky soon set a hand on top of it in hopes to take it away from Sam, but he realized his mistake too late. “I didn’t know you used an agenda Bucky,” Sam said with a small amused grin on his face.

Bucky sighed and decided to be straight forward. “It’s not mine, birdman. A girl in the coffee shop dropped it, I’m going to give it back.”

Sam hummed before speaking. “A girl, uh” he had a cheeky grin and he took the agenda from Bucky. Bucky sighed and try to get the agenda back which caused Sam to stand up, catching the attention of some of the other avengers that were already in the room. Bucky stood up too and just like kids he started to chaise Sam around the room. Sam had opened the agenda to the first page and read aloud, “Property of Y/F/N Y/LN, apparently, she works at BOOKS & MORE the publishing house.” 

“Who works there?” Tony finally asked. “Bucky’s girl,” Sam said giving the agenda back to Bucky. “Bucky’s got a girl?” Natasha asked and Steve shook his head by her side, “Thought you would tell me first Buck, not Sam.” Bucky groaned and took a seat again. “She’s not my girl, she bumped into me at the coffee shop and drop it, she left it behind. I’m just gonna give it back.” 

“Is she cute?” Nat asked to which Bucky answered “None of your business.” looking directly at Nat’s eyes. A grin appeared on her face and softly answered back, “Oh, she is.” Bucky rolled his eyes and turned to look back at Tony. “Didn’t you have something to tell us?” Tony clapped his hands and loudly spoke, “Yes! We have important matters to discuss. Barnes, you should ask the girl out when you give back her agenda,” he said pointedly before continuing. 

The matter seemed forgotten as the meeting began, however, Steve and Natasha stole a few glances in Bucky’s direction and saw that after a few minutes he opened the agenda and started going through it. He couldn’t care less about what Tony was talking about, as soon as the word “party” had left his lips Bucky zoned out and focused his attention on the agenda. He found appointments are written down, or little notes like “Buy milk and eggs” he also found small notes with quotes, mostly written on the margins and there was one that caught his attention, “The beauty of winter captures my soul, wild and ragging, belovingly cold.” -C.C. Bucky was intrigued by the girl from the moment she bumped into him, and he thought maybe Tony’s idea wasn’t so crazy after all.

You woked up early, your sore limbs screaming at you to stay in bed but you had a lot to do. The day before you had left your agenda in the coffee shop and didn’t realize your mistake until you were heading to your boss’s office and couldn’t find it. You panicked for a solid five minutes before you got your ideas straight, and headed to your desk. From the top drawer, you took out your tablet a notebook and a new pen. You always had a backup in the calendar app from your tablet in case anything like this happened and even though you had been able to help your boss save the day it had been exhausting, you only took 20 minutes for lunch and had gotten out of the office around 10 p.m. You certainly needed an extra rest but first you needed to get your agenda back. This is the reason you were at the coffee shop 40 minutes earlier instead of 30 as it was your habit. 

The coffee shop was fairly empty as it had just opened 20 minutes ago. You stood in front of the counter and tell the barista your order, once he had charged you, you finally asked if yesterday someone had given them your agenda as you had forgotten it here and really needed it back. The barista said he didn’t know anything about it but he would check in the back and ask his coworkers. It took him five minutes but sadly they didn’t have your agenda on their power and said nobody knew about it, he gave you your cup of coffee and assure you that whoever had found it would soon contact you to give it back. You sighed and turned around almost bumping into the figure standing behind you. “Great Y/N run over someone, again.” You thought. “I’m so sorry.” You said trying to just move to the side but the stranger’s hand stopped you and you looked up at the same time he said your name. “Y/F/N Y/LN?” You saw the same stranger from the day before and your cheeks heat up. “ Oh god, I swear it wasn’t my intention to…,” You stop your sentence when you realized he had said your full name, and as much as your mind had block your embarrassing encounter from the day before you do recall you had never introduced yourself. “How do you know my name?” You took a step back and furrow your eyebrows. A look of realization crossed Bucky’s face at how him approaching you like that must look, so he took a small step back himself and held his hands up. “I found this yesterday after you ran off, I just thought you would want it back?” he took out your agenda from the pocket of his coat and relief washed over you. You stepped forward once again and took it from him. “Oh my god! Yes!” Bucky smiled at your excitement. 

“It was on the floor but you left on a hurry, I saw your name on the information section and wanted to call you and let you know I had it, but my day was crazy busy so I thought I could just drop by here and hope you would come by,” Bucky explained “I’m Bucky Barnes.” he extended his hand and you shooked it. “Thank you very much Bucky, you have no idea how you saved me. Can I buy you a coffee as a mean to thank you” You asked and Bucky nodded.

 You were seated next to Bucky on one of the tables and you had been chatting for about 20 minutes now. You needed to get going soon even if you didn’t want to. “I know I already said this, but thank you for giving my agenda back, you saved me a lot of trouble.” Bucky smiled. “It’s okay doll, it is what anyone would’ve done.” He looked down with a small shy smile on his face, he shook the nerves out of his system and spoke again. “Y/N I liked having this coffee morning with you, and I know this may sound weird, but I accidentally saw you have free time today at 7:30, think I can convince you to have dinner with me?” 

You felt your heart skip a beat and a grin draw itself on your face. “Accidentally, uh?” You questioned and Bucky chuckled, “Okay so maybe not completely accidentally but I do would love to have dinner with you.” Your smile widened and you nodded. “I would love to have dinner with you too Bucky, want me to give you the address of my office building or you have that already sorted out too?” You asked teasingly. Bucky chuckled once again and grabbed a napkin and the pen tucked inside your agenda, dragging them closer to you “I’ll pick you up at 7:30 then Y/N.” 

You quickly scribbled the address and soon after said your goodbyes. You never thought that by losing your agenda you will get a date with a charming stranger.

[rezdogsyonder]

Need (2)

Pairing: Professor!Rogers x Reader

Summary: Steve is surprised when reader in his class

Warnings: a little embarrassing scene, stalking.

A/N: I wrote this on the can.

**********

“Shit..” Eyes going wide as he sees you. “Sorry, lost my train of thought I guess.” Steve straightens up and scratches his neck. “Try not getting distracted in my class. Miss?”

“L/N.” Blushing, because now almost the whole class was here, and all eyes are on you. You take your book back and shove is in your bag. “Yeah, I’m sorry.”

“It is no problem.” he smiled, gosh he looks handsome. You were actually developing a crush on him back at the coffee shop, and now he was your teacher.

“Well, class lets get started.” He projected, turning on the multiple screens around the room.

You began taking notes, adding in the margins when he says something you think is important. But almost the entire time, you feel eyes on you. You try to ignore it, thinking it is another student. It’s making you a fidget, but you try to stay focused, not wanting to get talked to again in front of everyone.

You try to focus on your notes and the lesson, but you can’t help be mentally scold yourself for having to be told by the teacher to pay attention. On your first day back to class!

You just hope the semester isn’t going to be like this.

**********

She was perfect. So obediant. One comment and she stayed focused all class. Not looking at Steve once. She isn’t like any of the other girls he thought; not that there is nothing wrong with other girls, but she genuinely isn’t like them. She’s more driven, and passionate about her studies.

The entire period he couldn’t keep my eyes off of her, though he had tried to make it seem as though he was scanning the classroom but she is just so distracting. He probably should have chosen to teach a bigger class.

The class had about five minute left and that’s when Steve remembered; he gets to choose his TA for the year. He can’t focus for much longer, “Class dismissed. See you all Thursday.” Not caring that he wasn’t finished.

I can’t choose her though, it is not worth the risk. She just seems different, in a week or too you’ll be uniterested again. Everything will get back to normal.

He looks at you packing up your notebook and 5 pens. He likes that, that you have a little system for taking notes. Organized, he won’t have to do too much work—fuck he needs to stop thinking like that. Nothing is going to happen.

Nothing.

**********

After class you decide to go to the library, as you usually do before going home. You like it there. It’s quiet and the librarian is nice to you, when she’s known for being bitter. Every once and a while you bring her cookies, wanting at least one person to be nice to her.

You didn’t have much studying to do, you just re-wrote your notes and revised them. Adding in extra parts while it’s fresh in your mind, hoping it’ll help future you understand it during finals week. You do that with all the notes from this week, and before you know it, it was 10:30. The library closes in half an hour. So does the bakery Maria likes.

You also needed to stop by that little pastry shop before it closed, so you pack all of your stuff back into your bag and began the walk home. It wasn’t far, and the bakery was on the way. They’re only on opposite ends of campus, and there’s emergency buttons everywhere should you need one, so you feel at ease. Well, at first you walked home with your bag clutched to your belly and pepper spray in your hand, but you made this walk enough times that you’re comfortable.

You got your usual, and you were back on your way to your apartment. It was just half a block off campus, and you were almost there. You can’t help but feel like your still being watched, you blame it on still being embarrassed from earlier.

Getting back home to your shared apartment, plopped your bag down, throw your coat, and dramatically draped yourself over the couch. Not knowing how you got through his class. “Maria,” drawing out the ‘A’ in her name, “guess who my new teacher is.”

“Who?” She asks, not even looking up from her work.

“Hot guy from the cafe.” You mumble into the pillow.

“Wait what?” Her full attention in on you now.

“Hot guy you told me to make a move on today at work.” You sighed, looking back at her.

“Lucky you, once you make your move it’ll be an easy A.” She teased. Turning her attention back to her notes. “I’m kidding but that sucks, with him in class, I wouldn’t be able to focus.” Wiggling her eyebrows at you.

“I know right? And ugh he called me out today for ‘not paying attention’ but it was still before class was supposed to start. He couldn’t let me finish my page?” Covering your face, “ugh, it was so embarrassing.”

“I bet, I thought I told you to make a good impression?” She smiled, trying to lighten your mood.

“I was hoping to, but it wasn’t meant to be I guess.” You pick yourself back up, “I’m gonna head to bed, didn’t get any homework today so yay.” You’re saying ‘yay’ but your whole sentence was monotone.

Maria chuckles, “Goodnight...grandma.”

“Hey! I am tired,” you say emphasizing each word with a hit from a throw pillow, “besides I was never a night owl, just can’t do it.” Tossing the pillow to the side as you walk to your room.

“Wait, hold on, I got you this.” You hold out the little pastry bag that you brought home. “It’s a cinnamon roll.”

“Nice! Thank you, you’re the best,” she takes a fat bite, “honestly.” The last word sounding muffled from the amount of food in her mouth.

Once again, walking back to your room; it was at the end of the hall, to the right, and Maria’s was to the left. You like to think you were tidy, but if your in a rush, then it is as though there was a tornado in your room. Unfortunately, this morning was one of those times.

You began picking up clothes from literally everywhere, hanging them back up. Remake your bed, even though you’re about to get back in it. You can’t help it, your a tough sleeper and more often than not the blankets are sideways and hanging off the bed.

Pens you left under your covers were also put away, and it this point your just exhausted from everything. Forgoing the rest of your room, even declining to close your curtains. Usually you’d be too creeped out to leave them, always scared some weirdo would be watching, but right now you couldn’t care less as you sink into your bed.

Not realizing that you already attracted someone who was thankful, but also worried that you would leave them open.

[mmguitarbar]

A bad guitar, 1961

In a recent interview with Reverb.com, Fender CEO Andy Mooney laid bare his true feelings about the Jazzmaster and Jaguar, and let me tell you, they were anything but glowing. In the exchange, he brands Leo Fender’s original designs as “not very good guitars” at the time of release, declaring the mistakes of the past fixed in Fender’s latest entries into the offset line. 

Mooney takes a hard stance here, but to be honest his perspective here is nothing new. These critiques have been around for years, and even with the informed views of dedicated users of the Offset Guitar forum, the main axe associations with high profile players like Chris Stapleton and Nels Cline, and my own work over the last decade advocating for the guitars in print and performance –– pardon the horn tooting –– opinions on these fascinating guitars among the general populace are still very much divided.  

I don’t blame folks for holding these opinions because even I, Dear Reader, once believed the very same things. Back in high school I had an Olympic white Japanese Jaguar, a parental purchase spurred on by my love of the band Bush. The kindest way I could describe the guitar is problematic; the strings skipped off of their saddles, the bridge shimmied down, and it would not stay in tune no matter what I did. 

Eventually I traded it in on something more reliable, unwilling to wrestle with the instrument. When I finally came back to the offset guitar 14 years later, I realized that insatiable tinkerer Leo Fender wouldn’t have released a guitar he didn’t think was ready, and so I pushed through my preconceived notions of its flaws to gain a better understanding of the thing. I came out on the other side with a deeper appreciation for the man’s work. 

It seems to me that when a player has a bad experience with these guitars, it’s often because they’ve been poorly maintained. In cases such as these, I view it as an opportunity to educate and reevaluate. After a conversation or a quick adjustment, the player might still decide the models aren’t for them, but more often than not they seem to “get it.” And that’s enough for me.

So here I am, returning from an extended hibernation like a grumpy, shaggy bear; like the aging ensemble cast of a ‘90s sitcom, lured into a reunion for the cameras by the dangling carrot of a handsome payday, each secretly knowing that the end product would not be nearly as good as the show’s initial run; like a cherished childhood movie that, upon re-viewing for the first time in 30 years, has way more adult themes than your young mind could then comprehend, causing feelings of retroactive discomfort because you watched it with your parents in the SAME ROOM???

Prodigal namesake that I am, I have returned with my proverbial pen pressed to the also proverbial page of the Guitar Bar website to feverishly scrawl this open[ish] response in an attempt to give some context and gentle rebuttal to his comments. 

“They were not particularly good guitars when they were first introduced.”

When the Jazzmaster and Jaguar were first released in 1958 and 1962 respectively, they were not only top of the line models, but top sellers as well. While neither model was exactly embraced by the Jazz community, they nonetheless found favor with a varied group of players and all but defined the sound of Surf music while still in its infancy. For a time, they seemed to be everywhere. Admittedly, perceived popularity does not a good guitar make, so let’s look at a handful of early adopters.

At first, session players and country pickers liked the models well enough to use them on stage and in the studio, including Wayne Moss, Hank Garland, Willie Nelson, and Luther Perkins, who has an engraving of the model on his tombstone. If more proof is needed, here are three separate performances of Roy Clark absolutely shredding “12th Street Rag” on a bone stock Jazzmaster and Jaguar. These videos remain favorites of mine because they show someone really digging in and playing fast melodic runs on guitars that people seem to think can’t handle that kind of vigorous right hand technique. 

But if they were so good to begin with, why did sales eventually taper off?

A refinished ’65 from a couple of years back. I actually put the stock bridge back on this one instead of the sloppily installed TOM. It was awesome.

Previously, I’ve explained that the most common complaints with the model aren’t the fault of the design, but rather, trying to make that design do things it was never intended to do: wearing a set of light gauge strings. In the Jazzmaster, Leo Fender’s intention was to appeal to Jazz guitarists by creating a solid body guitar with the string geometry of an archtop: a pitched-back neck, a floating bridge, and a tailpiece, and most importantly, all specifically designed to work with heavy gauge flat wound strings. We’re talking 12s, 13s, and 14s. 

Once lighter gauges (9s and 10s) became the norm in the early to mid 1960s, inadequate string tension reduced the downward force on the bridge, resulting in tuning problems and string skipping. It’s like going off-roading with bald tires: you can certainly do it, but expect to slide around a bit.

At this point in my career I’ve set up well over a thousand of these guitars over the course of my career, and in the overwhelming majority of cases, once you throw on a set of 11 gauge rounds and shim the neck as Leo intended, they just work. They were good guitars then, and they’re still good guitars today.

For more information on setting up these guitars, have a look at our Demystifying series and my May 2017 cover story for Premier Guitar. 

“We’ve made them functionally better”

It’s true that Fender has devoted a significant amount of time and resources into solving the perceived problems with these guitars, including modified vibrato positioning, redesigned bridges, strategically placed nylon bushings, and even neck pockets angled at the factory to eliminate the need for shims. These are all good ideas, a few even great; as is often the case when chasing mass appeal, some have not been as successful as Fender might have hoped.

Take the Classic Player, which features an angled neck pocket and an Adjust-O-Matic bridge yet can still fall prey to the same string path issues of more vintage-correct models. The AOM style bridge was not designed with a vibrato in mind, with sharp, shallow saddle slots that can cause tuning problems of their own. And that’s to say nothing of the mismatched 12” radius bridge on a 9.5” neck, which causes the E strings to be higher off of the fretboard than the D and G in the middle and makes for an inconsistent feel across the neck. 

My friend Brian’s wonderful later model MarrGuar. An amazing guitar that set up beautifully.

Mooney specifically mentions the Johnny Marr model –– indeed a killer guitar ––  yet it’s worth noting that many of the earliest of the bunch left the factory with 56mm bridge string spacing, which turned out to be only a hair slimmer than the width of the neck. Many players reported problems keeping the outer strings on the fretboard, which eventually led to Fender adopting slimmer 52mm spacing in later production runs (linked in case you need one). Here’s a shot of a lovely black one with the worst example of this I have yet to see. 

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Scroll to see the neck and bridge string spacing problems.

A too-wide bridge…

…causing the E strings to fall off the neck when fretted

Strangely, the earliest American Professionals which came a few years later had the same problems, sometimes necessitating the need for aftermarket parts and prompting another mid-run update. 

As for the new American Ultra guitars, they may not be for me but I can understand why many of the features might appeal to other players looking for a more modern take on the Jazzmaster. With an additional lead circuit control knob, a re-purposed rhythm circuit layout for out of phase operation, rollers for individual pickup volumes, and an S-1 switch for series options, it could be argued that functionally they’re more complex than ever. 

However, once agin Fender curiously employs a mismatched bridge radius, this time a 9.5” bridge mated to a compound 10-14” radius neck, which puts the D and G strings higher off of the fretboard than the Es. Generally, compound necks work best when the string path is treated as a cone, flattening as it expands. In this case, a 16” bridge radius would set up far better than that of the stock part. I suspect we’ll start seeing even these guitars sporting alternative bridges before too long. 

So yes, while it’s good that we’re seeing R&D dedicated to making adjustments, some of those adjustments haven’t actually solved the problems, but rather, changed the nature of them instead.

“Now you can actually play them.”

I’ve made this point abundantly not only in this piece but in nearly everything else I’ve done over the years, but the fact is that Jazzmasters and Jaguars were always playable –– stock bridge included. Take it from an ardent Mastery user: the original bridge is as viable as any other, and once it’s adjusted correctly it’s as fun as it is functional.

Not only is there a wealth of great music made with them over the years as proof, you can refer to articles on this blog, numerous posts on both my personal Instagram as well as Mike & Mike’s showing that the stock bridge is dependable and musical. Hell, every offset guitar the shop sells goes through the same setup process to show off what incredible instruments they can truly be with just a little extra effort.

Closing Arguments

Would you play this stripped ’61, original bridge and all? It was a total beast of a guitar.

Real talk: I get that Mooney’s comments may be a marketing tactic to steer customers toward the current lineup in the Fender catalog, and just in time for the holidays at that. You know the old song and dance: newer is better! Fender does make a great guitar and innovation can be a good thing, so to this I say, fair play. 

Still, I have to believe there’s a better way to say so without throwing heritage –– and our beloved vintage instruments –– under the bus. 

You see, over the last five or so years, it seems to have become fashionable in Fender’s corporate culture to downplay or outright disparage the legacy of Leo Fender, with reps at NAMM overheard saying things like “Leo didn’t get everything right” and “we fixed his mistakes,” phrases repeated at the onset of the latest feature set or spec tweak. 

At best, comments like those in the previous sentence (as well as those which are the basis of this response) make Fender seem out of touch, and at worst, could erode the trust of a very loyal legion of customers.

I’ve said it before, and I’ll be saying it for as long as it needs saying: the Jazzmaster and Jaguar are Leo Fender’s most brilliant and misunderstood designs. It may have taken us 50 years to catch up, but now a growing and dedicated group of fans have found a unique sound here unlike anything you can get from other more traditional guitars. 

Speaking personally, no matter what other instruments are available to me, I reach for an offset first. I have found my musical voice in the Jazzmaster and Jaguar, and I’m never more comfortable or more adventurous than when I have one in my hands.

One last quote: 

“I have Jazzmasters and Jaguars… I have four in a line on my wall from 1966.” 

Andy, if you’ve read this and have found any of it compelling, I’d love the chance to show you just how good those guitars on your wall can be. All I’ll need is a few sets of 11s or 12s, a screwdriver or two, and maybe a couple Cold Ones to share between us. Burritos are good, too.

Oh, and parking validation –– it’s a bit of a drive up from Long Beach and the last thing I want to deal with is finding a spot on those notoriously crowded Hollywood streets.

A bad guitar. A very bad guitar

  An Open[ish] Response to Fender CEO Andy Mooney’s Thoughts on Offset Guitars In a recent interview with Reverb.com, Fender CEO Andy Mooney laid bare his true feelings about the Jazzmaster and Jaguar, and let me tell you, they were anything but glowing.

[mairi-mia1]

From Ms Gabaldon's Facebook page

For Those Kind People who keep urging me to "release the book!" (as though I'm keeping the manuscript in a cage in my office)...a Brief Explanation of How Publishing Works (on the purely mechanical side):

Well, as my husband (who has certainly had enough experience by now to Know) says, "To a writer, "finished" is a relative term." And it truly is. The _first_ "finished" is the most important <g>--when you have the Whole Thing in your hands. No feeling like it! (Though giving birth isn't far off...)

[NO! I haven't finished writing it. Dang close, though.]

After _that_, though...I wrote up all the phases of production, some years ago, in a vain effort to explain to the many-headed just _why_ the fact that I'd finished writing the book didn't mean it would be on their bookshelves the next day/week/month. I won't do the whole list here (I have work to do tonight), but in essence, the manuscript goes from me to two editors--one in the US, one in the UK--both of whom have been reading what chunks of the book I've finished already (so as to get a jump on things), but who will immediately start reading from the beginning, after which both of them will give me their separate comments and notes (there are _always_ spots where a scene or part of a scene has been accidentally repeated, so that's where we--because I'm also reading it from the beginning--catch that kind of stuff and resolve it). I'll have been having my own thoughts as to anything I want to change, so will be messing with the manuscript with all three sets of input in hand.

When that's done, the book is "finished," again--that is, it's ready to go to the copy-editor. This is a wonderful person (at least I hope she's still in business and available to do it for me again; she's done the last three or four books for me, plus several Lord John ones) whose thankless task is to read the manuscript One. Word. At. A. Time, and catch any difficulties along the way: typographical errors, inconsistencies (in names, ages, times, whatever--and there will be a number of them, owing to the size of the book and the way I write), incongruities (there's still a page in OUTLANDER--which was copy-edited by a, um, person of somewhat lesser talent, let us charitably say--where a maid brings in the tea-cups but carries out the brandy glasses at the end of the scene. Fortunately no one has ever noticed this), logical holes (she checks the distances between actual places and will let me know if it's really possible to get from point A to point B in three days or whatever), timeline issues (did the Siege of Savannah happen before or after the Siege of Charleston (only it was still being called Charles Town at that point, so we need to change all the "Charleston"s), and imposes "house style" (meaning that Penguin Random House has its own conventions regarding things like whether numbers are given in digital form or spelled out, whether we do or do not use Oxford commas, etc.) throughout. She's usually doing this under hideous time-constraints and I sent her a bottle of Really Fine Whisky last time.

But then, _I_ have to read the copy-edited version and "reply" to it. I.e., there will be a number of marginal questions or comments that I need to answer and either address or dismiss. This is ungodly labor (and also being done under a major time-constrant), but Very Necessary.

THEN the manuscript goes back and is corrected according to my last-minute corrections and insertions (I almost always realize that two or three vital bits are missing, and hastily write those scenes and insert them with the copy-edit correx), and comes back to me (AGAIN!) as galley proofs. These are, as you doubtless know, the pages of the book, printed just as it will (we hope) appear on the shelf, but on loose, unbound sheets. This is where we catch disjunctions in the formatting (very rare, but they do happen), any (we hope) minor nits that everybody has so far missed (and there is no book in existence that goes to press without errors, believe me), misspellings of the Gaelic (compositors can _not_ get a grasp on Gaelic words, no matter how carefully I print them, if they're inserted as corrections or additions. This is not helped by the fact that I don't speak Gaelic and don't always _know_ if something is misspelled), and any truly last-minute insertions (there's a clause in my contract that says if I change more than 10% of the text during the galley phase, I have to pay for the extra type-setting. This contingency is Remote).

I'm not mentioning any of the book design or the messing-about-with-the-cover issues, because I mostly just have to give an opinion on those, not actually do the work. But it all takes time.

Let it be noted that we did ALL of the above within five weeks, for each of the last two books. This drove everyone to the verge of insanity (and was terribly expensive), and we Really Don't Want to Do That Again (any of us!), which is why you aren't getting a pub date until the manuscript is by-God Finished.

[NO, it isn't finished yet. Don't worry--I'll tell you when it is!]