#goddamn real life has to be so… non mystical

[djtreebeard]

:( dang

A Bureau of Land Management worker posted this video on their facebook page saying that they “captured this strange ‘thing’ swimming in the Chena River in Fairbanks”. The ‘creature’ in this video was soon named the Alaska Ice Monster and spread like wildfire. Theories started flying about what this was. An Alaskan Nessie? Some kind of arctic crocodile? A giant fish? 

It boils down to something much simpler: frazil ice stuck to a rope that is attached to a nearby pier. Frazil ice is soft ice that cannot completely freeze due to turbulent water. While the ‘creature’ seems to be moving in the water, a rope is merely swaying in the current.

[365days365movies]

March 2, 2021: The Last Unicorn (1982) (Part 1)

I, uh...I wanna talk about zoology.

It’s my profession of choice, although if I’m going to be specific, it’s ecology and ornithology, based on my Masters. But while my expertise is in birds, that doesn’t mean I have any particular preference. So, let’s talk mammals. Specifically, I’d like to talk about horses.

Horses are odd-toed ungulates (Order Perissodactyla) belonging to the family Equidae, with only one living genus (Equus), which includes donkeys, zebras, and a FUCK-ton of fossil progenitors. Not gonna go into horse evolution here, since it’s a vast topic on its own, but the group dates to about 54 million years ago, during the Eocene period.

There are specific features that define modern horses as horses, including a single hoofed toe for walking on, a body built for running with high stamina, and a large cecum in the intestines for breaking down fibrous and herbaceous material. It’s a group native to North America, Africa, and Asia, with the modern descended horse descended from a somewhat unknown ancestor in Central Asia.

They’re grazers rather than browsers, which many similar sized herbivores are. And, of course, they have a close relationship to humans throughout prehistory. Their main systems of defense against predators are the afore-mentioned running capabilities, a VICIOUS kick (especially horses like zebras), and a high-range of monocular vision due to the position of their HUGE eyes.

In terms of sexual selection, it’s essentially based on physical competition between the males in a population, which are usually formed into reproductive harems. That’s one male with multiple females that live within an established range. The females have their own dominance schemes, while groups of males exist in bachelor herds before establishing a harem of their own.

And those two paragraphs help explain why horses don’t grow horns.

Animals like this bighorn sheep, as well as antelopes with impala and gerenuk, perform intrasexual selection using their horns, the size of which determine the fitness of an individual male, with the fights settling any potential ties for watching females. And that’s the main reason why herbivorous mammals grow horns, and horses have come up with different social structures to compensate. But OK, couldn’t they just horns anyway? 

Remember the stomach I mentioned earlier? Here’s the thing; hindgut digestion, which is what horses do...not the most nutritionally efficient form of digestion. In order to maintain their running lifestyles, they invest all obtained energy and nutrients into building muscle and other important functions. Fact of the matter is, they just can’t devote enough energy and nutrients to the physiologically expensive act of owning a horn. They do have a close relative that does that, though. However, they’ve sacrificed their speed, intelligence, and even their eyesight for their horns, as well as beefing up their physical defense with thicker skin.

YUP! So why talk about this? I mean...you know why.

OK, so that had basically nothing to do with this movie, but a post like this has been building since I mentioned the gerenuk a little bit ago. Sorry, had to get it out. Anyway, yeah, unicorns are impossible, but they’re still a hallowed mythical creature. National animal of Scotland, one of the most prominent symbols of medieval mythology, a magic-using ethnic class in a mythical kingdom composed of a horse-based majority that also includes normal horses and pegasi...

You know, unicorns. So, I’m definitely interested in what would happen to make a unicorn, well...the last one. My bets are on something man-made, like deforestation or another for of habitat depletion. Could be poaching for the horn. After all, that’s what’s been driving rhinoceros species to near-extinction (or actual extinction in the case of the western black and northern white rhinos. RIP Sudan, you goddamn king).

But let’s find out rather than speculate! SPOILERS AHEAD!!!

Recap (1/2)

During medieval times, in a mystical wood called the Unicorn’s Forest, a hunter shows unease to his companion. In the forest, there are no seasons, and the beasts are protected from hunters, as long as there is one unicorn left if the forest. That last unicorn is...the Unicorn (Mia Farrow), who learns from the hunters that she must be the last of her kind.

The opening credits, which are a gorgeous animated medieval tapesty, are backed by the song “The Last Unicorn”, by America (damn, nice pull). Gives the whole thing a Renn Faire feel. Never been to a Renn Faire, but I’d love to go to one, honestly.

Anyway, the Unicorn is in doubt that there are no more of her kind in the world, as they live forever, and she would know if there are none left...right? However, they can also be killed and trapped, so...I mean, they might be dead, Unicorn. As she’s thinking on this, the most Rankin-Bass butterfly ever shows up singing a ballad of love. This is...the Butterfly (Robert Klein), a bard-erfly (see whay I did there) who won’t stop singing, despite the Unicorn’s pleas to tell her of other unicorns.

Butterflies, apparently, repeat to anything they hear around them Which involves like, a lot of non-medieval songs. There’s one about the A-train, apparently, which makes...just NO fucking sense. As the Unicorn also shows frustration at this anachronistic little bugger, he breaks his songs to tell her than the Unicorns have all been chased off by “the Red Bull.”

...I’m going to hold it off as long as I can, but the joke WILL come. It WILL come.

She wonders if she can truly leave the forest, then actually does so in order to find the other unicorns. She happens upon a farmer, who attempts to tame her, as he only sees her as a horse. Apparently, men can no longer see unicorns as they are, and usually only see them as white horses. So, there may be unicorns in the world after all!

Not sure why she doesn’t go back to her forest after realizing this, but...OK. She continues on, backed once again by a song performed by America, called “Man’s Road”. Real talk, I’m digging the music in here, which is my inner folk rock fan talking.

While she finds nothing on her journey, she’s instead found by Mother Fortuna (Angela Langsbury), a witch who runs a carnival that needs a new exhibition. With her comes Ruhk (Brother Theodore) and magician Schmendrick (Alan Arkin), the latter of whom actually can see the Unicorn as a Unicorn.

At the carnival, Schmendrick introduces hiself to the Unicorn, wanting to get her out of there. Meanwhile, an audience is fooled by Mother Fortuna’s illusory magic to see a manticore, satyr, and the Midgard Serpent, when in reality they are an elderly lion, ape with a twisted foot, and really sad snake. However, the Harpy that she has IS real, and a major threat to Fortuna were she to escape.

That night, Fortuna speaks to the Unicorn of the Red Bull, owned by a King Haggard. The Unicorn asks Fortuna to free both her and the Harpy, two signs of the same magical coin. Also...is this a kids’ movie? Kinda thought it was until I noticed that the Harpy has, well...pendulous breasts. Literally the best way I can describe them. Also, three of them, so...there’s that.

After she leaves, Schmendrick arrives to free the Unicorn with his magic...and he’s shit at it. Like, REALLY shit. But thankfully, he’s a decent pickpocket, and stole the cage keys from Ruhk. He lets the Unicorn free, and she in turn releases the other animal prisoners, Harpy included. Which is NOT great for Fortuna, who’s IMMEDIATELY killed.

The two leave together, and head on the Unicorn’s journey to find her own kind. She cannot grant Schmendrick his wish to become a true magician, but he still gives her information about this world, and King Haggard, who seems like bad news.

On the road, the two encounter a gang of thieves of the road, who work for Captain Cully (Keenan Wynn), a short and portly leader of bandits. His mistress is a woman named Molly Grue (Tammy Grimes), who’s endlessly frustrated by Cully’s regular failures. They befriend Schmendrick, who impresses them with illusions of Robin Hood and his Merry Men. Although, it’s not his illusions, but those of the Unicorn, trying to help.

Doesn’t help that much, though, as the Robin Hood-hating Captain Cully ties him up to a tree after all of his men and Molly leave. A frustrated Schmendrick mutters a spell by mistake, and brings the tree to life.

And then my girlfriend fuckin’ broke. Here she is, below:

Ravishing. Yeah, she’s watching this too, and when the tree came up, her words were, and I quote:

...a smooth-talking horse, a three-tittied harpy, and a BOOBED TREE!

Boobed tree is an expression I will find a way to use in my life. Also, this is ABSOLUTELY not a kid’s movie, and that is one busty-ass tree. This tree, called...The Tree (Nellie Bellflower) is in love with Schmendrick, and is enraged by the appearance of the Unicorn. However, the Unicorn undoes Schmendrick’s magic, and puts the t-horny tree back to sleep.

The two encounter Molly Grue, who’s astonished to see a Unicorn. She cries, as she was been waiting to see one since she was a young maiden, but now she isn’t one anymore. Interesting implications there, but moving on. Molly wishes to join them, and while Schmendrick isn’t super down for that, she wins the Unicorn’s trust when she points out that they’ve been going in the wrong direction. Whoops.

OK, with that, let’s break for Part 2! See you there!

[mappingthemoon]

BBY'S FIRST REFURBISH

When I left the punk house in March 2010, I took with me a (non-matching) dresser + chest of drawers set which I believe had existed on the property since before I had even moved in (ca. August 2007). In March 2010 I was making one of my first escape-from-abuser attempts and didn’t have another place lined up until that July, so I put all my stuff into a storage unit and stayed at a friend's house. I took these pieces with me back then because it was the first time in my independent adult life that I actually possessed real furniture for storing clothes, and I knew I would not be able to afford to buy furniture for my new place. It was, like, a really big deal for me to have a dresser. I didn’t want to go back to that milkcrate & garbage bags storage lyfe, ya know?

I kept dragging these things around to four more homes over the next six years because, again, how the hell is one supposed to afford furniture on shit wages? After we’d been in our current home for a few years and I began to settle into some semblance of stability, I started itching to replace the dresser set with something a bit nicer, something that maybe wasn’t a constant reminder of my past lives and shittier living situations. I would always be looking at thrift stores, estate sales, and big box knock-together furniture, but could never find an equivalent dresser set that was affordable and fit in the small space available in my room. It was frustrating and I really kind of got a bug up my ass about it because what kind of a person can’t just fucking furnish their house in a non-trashy way? Why was it taking all these years to finally fucking replace my poverty furniture? Why do I have to keep looking at this atrocious object that is full of bad memories of my poor life choices?

Anyway, at some point during one of my usual periods of pandemic/lockdown self-reflection (lol), I made a snap decision that instead of discarding all the things that remind me of the past, what if I could... make some of them better? What if these shitty punk house experiences were not all entirely terrible? What if I could make something beautiful and functional from something all banged-up and broken? WHAT A CONCEPT. (Pete should probably get some credit for this burst of inspiration bc over the years when I’ve complained about having to live with this furniture I don't like, he has occasionally suggested that we make a project out of it, and I have always been like FUCK NO, BURN IT TO THE GROUND AND START OVER, I WANT TO BE A GODDAMN PHOENIX RISING FROM THE ASHES OF MY TERRIBLE PAST. Just Aries things!!!)

Okay, well, sorry/not sorry to be so long-winded and mystical about an old-ass piece of furniture as I break free from my own psychological chains. I’m really happy with the way this turned out. I did the sanding (protip do not sand with the good side of the wood face-down on yr concrete driveway) and papering & Pete tightened up the joints and did the painting. We’re planning on doing the dresser to match and will hopefully get that finished within the year...

Pictures:

1. I somehow failed to capture an intentional “before” picture, but here is the piece in situ ca. October 2019.

2. Sanding in progress, April 2021.

3. Finished and relocated to a more aesthetically pleasing corner of my room, June 2021.

4. Detail of drawers, April 2021. This decal only revealed itself after sanding. In photo #2 you can also see on the bottom drawer the name “Mytra” was concealed beneath multiple coats of paint. I now think it’s awesome that my furniture is a palimpsest! ~*literally & figuratively integrating past experiences to construct more perfect whole, woo*~

5. Detail of top after painting, June 2021. I also like these “imperfections” in the paint.

6. Detail of new drawer paper and knobs, June 2021.

[netherlady]

I’m watching movies/TV shows I used to watch as a kid in the 90s. Specifically, non-Disney animated media. These are my thoughts as they come.

I’m on to a Filmation Associates film called Happily Ever After. It’s a continuation of what happened after the end of Snow White. I actually used to watch the Disney film and this one back-to-back because that’s how I felt things should be done.

Right off, the mirror is recounting Snow White’s story—but get this. The prince didn’t kiss Snow’s corpse to awaken her. With love in his heart, he touched her hand and it was enough to break the spell.

Can I just appreciate the fact they didn’t wanna be like kissing sleeping and/or dead people is okay if you’re supposedly in love with them. Not cool, charming.

Dom DeLuise is the mirror, and a shady bitch right off. Straight up is like lol I don’t know you.

This animation is beautiful, tho. Fluid, expressive, they’re all individual character desiiigggnnn.

Malcom McDowell is iconic in this. Also, adding the dimension that the Evil Queen has family—and not only that, but a good strong relationship to her brother? To the point that he doesn’t even know this Snow White situation other than what he’s heard from his sister over the years, day in day out, holy shit are you STILL talking about this fucking teenager give it a rest maybe? And when he learns that aforementioned teenager is RESPONSIBLE for the death of his beloved sister? No questions, not even any real monologuing; Lord Maliss really said just where is this pasty little fuck I’m gonna set fire to her entire goddamn life.

I never understood why the Bat felt sorry for the evil queen. Seriously, she spent a good week trying to murder a teenager and failed. Over vanity. Just.

Speaking of the whole teenager thing, Snow is supposed to be 14. In lore, and in the Disney film. The prince is over 18. Super not okay. However, the way Snow is animated in this film, she looks older, acts older, and is clearly not a child. She is also voiced by Irene Cara (yes, THAT Irene Cara), which lends an unmistakable maturity to her. I honestly think they mean for her to be older in this. 18 at least. And I appreciate that.

Also, damn is this child traumatized. In the span of a few months, she was nearly murdered by the huntsman, her step-mother (four times), resurrected from a hell-sleep, and when she and the love of her life finally have a moment’s peace, she gets carried off by a giant fucking dragon, chased into another dark and terrifying forrest, and her prince gets kidnapped.

Her prince looks like He-Man with red hair. By the way. That aside, my favorite moment of him is how they animated him watching Snow pick flowers for her dwarven friends. It’s not creepy or possessive. It’s so damn affectionate.

I love the dwarfelles, and every actress that voiced them. Fuck.

Low key, I always thought Sunburn and Muddy were married. Like, knew it, accepted it, moved on from it.

And again, the radical bops of 90s non-Disney animation. Gotta love this shit, sing about your feelings Thunderella.

Phyllis Diller as Mother Nature is also iconic. She is made of bitch. Good for her.

Remember when I said the Prince looked like He-Man? He got turned into Orko. I just saw it and i can’t unsee it now. Fuck.

Anyway, I always liked the Shadow Man, and while I did love that he was the prince, I also would have loved him being a separate entity. Idk.

Maliss is so fucking extra with the magic mirror, like “STFU YOU INSOLENT PIFFLE lol you right tho imma go sic demon wolves on this bitch brb”

The bat is supposed to be the moral one, right. Calling the owl, Scowl, out on his bullshit. Honestly, this bat is an asshole. Straight up a piece of shit.

Man, Snow really out here, fighting wolves, saving dwarfelle lives, being agile as hell. I think about the scene where she gets up in the morning and twirls in front of the dwarves’ mirror, happy to be safe somewhere she calls home. A lot. Like? This is the same bitch. It’s great.

There’s a lot of themes about vanity in this story. I find it so interesting that after being invited to travel with them by Snow, the prince, cursed like to be the shadow man, is so horrified at his new visage, he runs off in shame. In doing so, he leaves Snow vulnerable, and without her mystic companions—and she gets hella kidnapped by Maliss.

Who, again, is a competent villain. No speeches, no posturing, he transforms and grabs her while he has an opening. Like, Maliss legit did not fuck around.

Batso continues to be an asshole.

When Maliss/evil prince says ‘You will look out on this forever’, it always hits. I used to rewind this particular segment up here on the parapet a lot. I loved the betrayal, the final stand-off. But that? That moment? I think about that line on the daily still. Chilling.

The cloak came out of nowhere, but it’s no less terrifying.

Seriously, I want background on the cloak. We got a whole bullshit song out of the chain smoking owl, I wanna know where Maliss got this cloak, and if all the statues in his sister’s castle are because of it. That’s a fucking story.

Straight up, wtf does he do to the prince/shadow man with the eye beams. Like. Mad scary and super fucked up. Maliss is powerful AF, and he wanted the woman responsible for killing his sister to suffer so bad, he gets real angerblind real fast.

This movie went hard. Killed the prince and the dwarfelles right there. Like. They were banking hard that the Magic undo button with the death of the villain was gonna sell right.

I was always low key confused when Snow said she loved the shadow man ��as dearly as the prince’ when she mourned him. I’m sure it was supposed to be a soulmate hand-wavey kind of thing, but still.

My brother used to make fun of the way she cried. Irene tried, okay.

Ah, yes, the 90s non-smoking PSA. Everyone had one. Now with more owl.

Happily Ever After. I wouldn’t blame Snow if she legit had a guard who’s only job was to test her food and clothing for poisons, and another to watch the sky for fucking dragons for the rest of her life.

I loved watching this again. I forgot how much I loved it. The cast is huge and stellar, with a ton of legends. And the pop ballad at the end is, of course, performed by Irene Cara.

There’s only three songs in this whole thing, and the pop song at the end. I always wished there were more.

Either way. I loved this movie as a kid. Next time I’ll probably watch the Princess and the Goblin.

[tvdversefanfiction]

The Originals 30 Day Challenge, Done in 1 day.

I love all of these 30 day challenge pics/posts/quests but I never have the patience to do it over 30 whole days, so instead I do them in one sitting, one go. 

MY TVD 30 DAY CHALLENGE HERE

Feel free to comment your own opinions about The Vampire Diaries spin-off The Originals, whether it’s your favorite show within the TVDverse like myself or whether you just love it as much as I also love the other two shows TVD and Legacies, Legacies will have its own 30 day challenge soon enough too...

Feel free to answer these too, copy, paste it, like I have and do it for yourself...

1 - If you follow this post, or read any of my TO fanfiction it will come as no surprise to anyone that I’m in love with and very obssesed with Klaus Mikaelson, he will always be my king.

2 - Rebekah Mikaelson, she’s so badass yet has this softness that makes her so compelling at the same time, I worship this queen and often wonder what this show would have looked like if she remained a main star for all of its five season run.

3 - Making me choose between the love of my life Klaus, and the icon that is Rebekah is hard...so hard but I have to go with Rebekah on the grounds that when he hurts Rebekah in any way I’m always mad like no, not my Rebekah, whereas when its the other way around I’m normally like yeah he deserved that from her...Rebekah is the fictional bestfriend of my life and Klaus is the husband, and friends always come before men - side not this very answer will later be used on record when I find myself in an asylum one day lol

4 - I’d have to go with either Marcellus or Inadu, although Marcel is beyond irritating to me throughout most of his run I can’t argue his reasons for being annoying are somewhat justifiable especially after Davina’s death in season 3 :( so I’d say I hated Inadu the most, purely because the character in itself was so wasted, so stale, and a dud to be honest...I was hoping for more with the hollow arc but I’ll get to that later on no doubt.

5 - Season 1 Episode 16, Farewell to Storyville, Season 1 in general was one of the strongest debut seasons for any shows I’ve ever watched, if not the strongest! I loved Rebekah and Klaus’ bond most out of the siblings and although Klaus spends most of the episode trying to kill her and it involves Rebekah leaving as a main character...this has got to be the juiciest exploration of their relationship - also side note young Elijah should have left young Rebekah kill Mikael, just saying...

6 - I could put the entirety of Season 5 in here, minus all the epicness of all the Klaroline scenes and Hayley’s badass death...but to pick one episode out it would have to be the finale “When the saints go marching in” because it just felt like they had spent that season killing off characters who were least likely to appear in Legacies (which pissed me off), also I wanted Klaroline to be endgame and Julie Plec’s response to not doing that because of Steroline, a ship that always felt like Caroline was second place and that queen should be always be 1st. 

I did not like that Klaus and Elijah died, which reminded me visually of that Avengers scene, which made no sense as we have seen originals die before and not once did it go down like that!

And even if I could forgive them for that I was rather pissed we saw no after life, even a Elijah and Hayley dance in the afterlife would have been appreciated...

I’m also always a little bittersweet when folk from the pilot don’t show up in the last episode, would have loved to seen more of Davina in general over seasons 4 and 5.  (Rant over)

7 - Try not to pick a Klaroline scene...never mind, when Caroline first appears, pinning Klaus up against the wall and saying something along the lines of try picking on someone your own size, or the swoony moment in Mystic Falls where she tells him he was never the villain in his story, or again the swoony moment when their road tripping and trying to find Hope... but non Klaroline scenes which were epic, Davina going up against Klaus with the harvest power inside of her, Lucien going upgraded original and taking them all on, Dahlia’s entire arc, the finales of 1,2, 3, and 4 and last but definitely not least kid Hope’s entire arc, what a magnificent actress Summer Fontana is, a star in the making *

8 - “ We are the strongest creatures in the world, and yet we're damaged beyond repair. We lived without hope, but we will never die. We are the definition of cursed, always and forever.” said by Rebekah Mikaelson, all of the Mikaelson’s had epic quotes, this show, and it’s predecessor TVD have so many amazing quotes <3

9 - Klaus handing baby Hope over to Rebekah, trusting her above all others, and any scenes where Klaus, Hayley, Rebekah, Elijah and Kol have with baby Hope as well as kid hope - broody moments lol

10 - Josh’s death, I had feared his death every goddamn season especially knowing Julie Plec wanted him killed in the very first season :( however after being made a regular in the finale season I had hopes for him making it out alive and perhaps showing up in Legacies in a more prominent role as a teacher for the vamp kids or something...but no that woman just had to finish off her hit...nothing breaks me more than his death! Although, reuniting with Aiden in the afterlife gives me small comfort, Aiden’s was another’s death that was so sad!

11 - Kid Hope putting people in their place like Marcel, and even Davina (who I worship), I just loved this little badass kid going about like a little queen from the get go...Danielle Rose Russell had and still has very big shoes to fill IMO

12 - Freya and Elijah condemning Davina to the ancestors, or Elijah who was supposed to love Marcel like a son ripping out Marcel’s heart. A lot of season 4 Elijah annoyed me tbh, 50% of Hayley scenes ticked me off too and Marcel was a solid 90% throughout the entire run.

13 - Hmmm....Klaus meeting his real father then killing him in order to protect Hope as he just could not risk trusting his father :( that broke me, other shocking moments when Gia died, Hayley’s first and second death...

14 - Friendship as in friends but not family? friendship within family would be Rebekah and Klaus always, friendship outside of family bonds I would definitely say either Davina and Josh or Rebekah and Hayley.

15 - Klaroline, although I put myself out here considering they only kissed once in this show...I never shipped Haylijah but never hated it, I despised Camille and the Klamille ship and always will, I enjoyed Elijah and Gia but doubt it run its course well I think, I always thought Rebekah deserved more than Marcel and still do...so I’m going with Kolvina, even though Kol killed Davina, thanks to those damn ancestors, their romance was super sweet, I loved how Kol loved her and their marriage, though briefly seen, was everything! We should have got a flashback of their wedding god damn it! But I’ll settle for them being two of the few who got happy endings...and could appear in Legacies ;) fingers crossed!

16 - I loved Marcel singing How You Like Me Now, I wish Charles Michael Davis had a few more musical numbers within this show, he’s a really talented actor, singer, director...

17 - Joseph Morgan hands down, loved him from his first scene in TVD and loved his other work in Hex and Brave New World, to name a few...

18 - Claire Holt, she’s just wonderful as Rebekah and the actress herself, she seems like such a genuine sweetheart in real life and you can really see her love for the character of Rebekah too, I also liked her other work in A Violent Separation, 47 Meters Down and no I’ve never seen H20...yet

19 - The Originals hands down, although so far TVD is in second place, with Legacies in third place but with Legacies still going I have high hopes for that climbing...all are fabulous shows in their own rights <3

20 - Okay I wouldn’t be me if I did not answer this future episode question without a link to a fanfic season 6 of mines... Origins of Magic and my alternative season 5 Bad Blood

21 - Off the top of my head? Davina and Kol teaching at Salvatore Boarding School, giving Hope some family connections that she severely lacks in Legacies and how awesome would they be as teachers? I’d also like to see a cousin whether it be Freya and Keelin’s son Nik or Rebekah and Marcel adopt a child (creature) that also ends up in Legacies. Side note - may put this in my possible fanfic ideas board...

22 - I don’t think I could claim to be most like any one individual, I’d say I was definitely a little dorky like Josh but nowhere near as adorable, I have a lot of hurt inside of me like Davina and protect my friends as much as I can, I’ve definitely got a bit of paranoia like Klaus from being screwed over many times like him and also like them it was mostly by family members, I’m definitely as curious and of a quiz like nature as Camille, love a little too easy like Rebekah and get my hear broken too often like her too, can be a little bit twistedly playful like Kol although I’ve not killed half as many people ; I’d love to one day be as elegant as Elijah, or as brave as Hayley and who would not want to be a Tribrid like Hope?

23 - How is this any different to 4? Although I’ll just answer Inadu purely because of the waste of potential and how not one single time did I give a damn about her, although I despised that vampire bitch who killed Hayley!!!

24 - I definitely relate to Klaus, Rebekah, Josh and Davina the most which is why they are my favorites no doubt.

25 - Klaus Mikaelson, any day, any time, anywhere, unless of course him and Caroline make it work I love their love more than I love my love for Klaus so I’d be happy just watching them being happy as a stalker lurking in the bushes within the back garden of their marital home - side not another statement that could be put on record for my eventful visit to the asylum..

26 - The family bonds, I love how it’s not all about romances like it is in TVD and so far Legacies, but still has romances at the same time. I love the complicated bonds between Klaus and his siblings Rebekah, Elijah, and Kol (in that order) and I love the little homemade family of Marcel with Davina and Josh (also in that order) and Marcel’s complicated father/son relationship with Klaus.

I also love how we watch Hope from being in Hayley’s womb, to a baby, toddler, child and then teenager and the powers she shows even from as young as being a baby and stopping the car she was in with Cami (even if that did save Cami’s life for a little longer) sorry not sorry we all got to hate on somebody and I did compliment her in 22 sort of lol

27 - The fact that its finale season served more like a prequel to Legacies than a fitting ending to a show I had been invested in since before it even began airing, as most fans were, we have loved these characters since their inception in TVD and it did kind of feel like Julie kind of started the finale season with a hit list in mind killing off anyone she’d think would not cameo in Legacies at some stage which I guess is why there is so much ill will from TO fans for Legacies, which I did feel for a while.

I mean I still blame Hope for Klaus and Hayley’s deaths, also Elijah for Hayley’s death and Marcel for Josh’s but I do not blame the characters have as much as I blame Plec.

28 - Season 5 lol, Season 4 although at the time I did not want it to be its end, would have served as a better ending for TO and they could have still made Legacies work without any ill will of making TO’s finale season pitch Legacies.

29 - The Hollow turning out to be Henrik, or the original witch, or anything other than what is was, also the werewolf origins should’ve have been a bit more epic like the vampires origins were.

30 - I do love Joseph Morgan and Daniel Gillies in interviews, Daniel Gillies is one of the funniest actors behind the scenes and has great bromances with Joseph, Paul Wesley and many others within the TVD verse. I also love Claire Holt’s and Phoebe Tonkin’s friendship and how that’s been a thing since they starred in H20 together (which I want to watch purely because of those two)

[dammitadolfnomorecake]

Once Bitten, Twice Stupid prt.15

“Lance, it’s Keith. Are you in there?”

Hours. Lance had spent hours staring at his ceiling. He’d climbed into his wardrobe, grabbed his box of death soil, and cried himself to sleep. When he’d woken, he’d crawled over to his bed, his box of death soil sitting on his chest with his left hand resting on it as he stared upwards, simply laying there pretending the world outside didn’t exist

“Pidge called the home phone, she saw you’d left your car in town... I don’t know if you want to arrange a pick up, but it’s there”.

Keith being nice didn’t feel right. He didn’t like it all. He appreciated honesty and and Keith honestly hated him. Him being nice meant he was lying through his teeth

“Lance?”

Answering Keith felt like too much effort. So his car was in town, then that meant all he had to do was go pick it up. He could do that. That would mean he wouldn’t have to be home with “Keith the Liar”... That wasn’t being fair. Keith hadn’t... he was making an effort. He was doing the best he could under the circumstances. Keith had human emotions, so trying to get on fell within that range, but if you care for someone that makes killing them all that harder to do. Lance didn’t want to burden Keith with his death, nor did he want to burden Shiro the same way... This was why mixing with humans just wasn’t a done thing.

Climbing to his feet, Lance walked over to window, undoing the latch, a strong breeze filtered over his face as he looked downwards. Fuck it. Going out the front door wasn’t an option, so jumping out the window it was. It’d hurt, but he’d heal. The walk into town would give him space to breathe

“Lance?”

Yep. Fuck it.

Rolling his right ankle, Lance had barely limped around the side of his house and onto his drive before his escape was interrupted. Night was starting to fall, the air growing moister as the cicadas chirped away. Walking at night had never lost its charms when it came to thinking. He didn’t believe that vampires some how gained mystical powers from the moon like werewolves did, but it definitely gave him a pleasant buzz enough kind of buzz

“What the hell?!”

Jogging up along side him, Keith sounded annoyed

“Go back to the house, Keith”

“Did you jump out your window to avoid me?”

Talk about being sprung, Lance pushed down the discomfort of his ankle, speeding up his step, which Keith annoyingly kept up with

“Why would you jump out the window?”

“Why does anyone go around jumping out windows?”

“You could have come down the stairs”

Lance huffed, wondering if Keith intended to walk the 10 kilometres to town with him

“Then jumping out the window to avoid you would have been ruined... a bit like this”

Picking his pace up again, Keith jogged forward, standing in front of Lance

“Why are you being like this?”

“Like what?”

“This! What did I do now?”

Lance rolled his eyes

“Why do you think this has to do with you?”

“Because we’re the only two people in the house. If you’re upset, it has to be because of me”

Fuck. What was he supposed to do with that?

“And if I say it’s not you, it’s me, will you listen?”

“You’re acting weird and I don’t understand”

“You haven’t known me long enough to know when I’m acting weird”

“I heard you on the phone this morning, then you were crying, and now you’re jumping out of windows. I don’t understand it”

“Even vampires have shit days. You humans don’t have the monotony on that”

“That was more than a bad day...”

“You’re not being... you’re not acting right”

“Oh, please tell me how I act? Could it be that you have no fucking idea what’s going on in my life and insist that you’re some goddamn vampire that I apparently sired? No eres un vampiro! Non sei un vampiro! I don’t know how many other ways I can fucking say it, but you’re a human. You’re a human I’m sending back to stay in town!”

Keith clenched his fists, Lance not sure if he was going to cry, or if the hunter was going to punch him in the face

“That’s not what you said last night”

Lance waved his hand dismissively

“Blame it on fatigue or whatever excuse you need. You’re here to kill me. Don’t go blurring that line any more than you already have”

“You’re the one blurring lines! I don’t understand any of this!”

“Welcome to the club, sorry, we’re fresh out of jackets and medals, but I might be able to swing a free set of steak knives in used condition”

“Fuck you! You don’t know me, you don’t know the shit I’ve been through! You weren’t there when Adam...”

Keith shook his head

“I don’t owe you anything. I can’t believe I was thinking there was more to vampires than what I’d see, but you’re all a bunch of dicks. Go die in a ditch for all I care”

Shit.

“Keith...”

“Save it Lance. You don’t want to help me. You don’t want to explain anything you don’t want to talk about. You’re not the one going through changes. You’re not the one having nightmares and waking up in a cold sweat with your body aching. You’re not the one getting headaches and you’re not the one stuck feeling the changes I’m going through. No. You’re the one who lies to my face. Your just like every other selfish undead fucker who can’t keep their promises”

“You’ve been sick because you poisoned yourself. You clearly have some kind of trauma thanks to Shiro’s partner Adam”

Keith couldn’t hide the surprise on his face

“What the fuck do you know about Adam?”

“What Shiro told me”

Not much at all. He’d done the math and now he was getting to the answer. Adam was Shiro’s partner that’d been killed, and for reason Keith felt guilty for whatever happened... maybe not guilt... maybe anger with anything less than human that’d do whatever had been done to Adam

“If you know about Adam, you should understand”

Lance had the feeling if he said he didn’t know anything, Keith would clam up and leave him in peace. But being a grade A arsehole to Keith took up too much energy. He didn’t want to know Shiro’s secrets, but he did. He didn’t want to know Shiro’s secrets because Shiro had dropped the “Matt bombshell” on him, but he did

“I’ve heard it from Shiro’s perspective, not yours”

“It’s the same thing”

It definitely wasn’t the same thing unless they were into that kind of a relationship

“Shiro was in love. You weren’t”

“What does that matter?! They fucking turned him! Shiro nearly lost his goddamn arm because Adam didn’t show his true colours! Shiro said he was... he was dead before he even got back... he dealt with it”

Keith’s repeated paranoia made sense now. Adam hadn’t been “noticeably” turned. Shiro had thought he was human, not knowing that Adam was no longer than man he’d once been. Keith was scared that he’d been turned and that he was headed down the same path as Adam. He was scared that he was going to lose his brother, and what would happen if his brother lost him

“You’re not to blame for what they did”

“I didn’t...”

“You can’t be superman, Keith. You can’t be in a million places at once. You didn’t know. You couldn’t have known. If Adam was already turned by the time Shiro returned, death would have been a release. We vampires have egos. That’s why we don’t last. That’s why our kind goes insane. You live to watch everyone you love die. You form bonds, only to have to break them because you don’t want the people around you to think you’ve lied to them the whole time, to think none of it was real. It’s not fun and games being like this. We never forget. We remember turning. We remember every single second of it. Your brother lost his lover and you want someone to pay. You want to kill everything you can, because you want to spare others that pain. Well guess what, you’re in pain too. You carry those deaths. You’ve seen shit you never thought possible and you’ve seen the fucking worst of it. That’s why you’ve got a chip on your shoulder, because they hurt your family. I don’t know if Shiro lied to you. I don’t know if Adam really was alive, but if they starved him after the turn, the fact your brother is still alive is something amazing. This life fucking sucks, and for your sake, I hope you find your way out of it. I live in penance for my sins, the sin of being this thing. I try to help as many kids as possible not feel even one scrap of what I did when I was a kid. Ever since you crashed into my life I’ve been going crazy. I feel like I’ve been turned over again, because you’re the first person I’ve ever drank from, and if you weren’t dying, I wouldn’t have done that. I can see right now you want to deck me, so if it makes you feel better, throw that punch”

“Don’t talk at me like you know my life!”

“I don’t and I don’t want to! When you move on, I’m the one who’s going to be stuck here wondering you’re still alive! In 50 years I’m still going to be wondering because I can’t get you out of my head! You’re going to end up dead, Keith. Long before your time of you keep throwing yourself into things head first!”

Keith took half a step back, looking down to the gravel beneath their feet. Adam was a sore topic for the man, and he didn’t know what kind of parents just let their kid run off and do dumb shit like becoming a hunter, but Keith seemed the kind whose home life seemed rocky at best. Raising his head, the hunter locked his eyes on his

“Then teach me”

What the what now?

“Huh?”

“Teach me! You’re a vampire! Teach me!”

Lance was the most unvampire vampire he knew

“Teach you what?”

“How to be stronger”

The what now? Keith was already physically strong, it was the mental side of things he needed to work out. He needed to clear the fog of anger when he fought and to think about the bigger picture

“I can’t teach you”

“Bullshit!”

“I can’t teach you”

“I have to be stronger. I have to get stronger! I’m all Shiro has and you have to help me”

“Then for Shiro’s sake, I’m going to recommend therapy. Your body isn’t the weak, it’s your mind”

“Then fucking teach me!”

“I can’t teach you!”

Lance didn’t get his rocks off working out. Training and teaching seemed like so much damn effort. He was old. He wanted to potter around in his garden and enjoy naps in the sun with his cat. He was starting to get another headache all over again, and for some unknown reason his heart felt like it was racing with the desire to do something

“Then fight me! Right here!”

“I don’t want to”

“Why?! Why are you being like this?!”

“Because I’m not to blame for your trauma. You have shit to work out in that thick head of yours. You’re so filled with anger that you’re going to get yourself dead. I doubt that’s the kind of life Adam would have wanted for you. I doubt Shiro wants to bury his brother because you let your anger get you killed”

“I have to become better! I have to protect him!”

“You can’t protect anyone if you can’t protect yourself first”

“That’s why you have to teach me!”

Lance shook his head

“I don’t have to do anything, other than to get my car that your brother decided he couldn’t be bothered returning”

“Shiro would have left it there so he wouldn’t be followed back to you!”

“Then maybe you both should have left when I told you to. Now get out of my way”

“No”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me. Either you fight me now, or you agree to train me”

“I’m not doing either. I’m going to get my car, then I’m going to drop your idiot arse off back in town”

“Fine! I don’t need you, I don’t need anyone!”

Lance sighed at Keith. What he needed was for someone to reach out and take his hand... but that someone couldn’t be him

“Keith, everybody needs somebody. That’s how life works. You need someone who will lift you up and support you, like Shiro. You need someone who isn’t me. I’m nothing more than a vampire”

“That’s why... that’s why I need you to help me. I need to be better”

“Idiot. You’re already good enough. Try making some friends and you’ll see. Bonds and attachments hurt, but good things come too. Having friends is fun. It’s okay to rely on other people”

“Like you rely on Hunk and Pidge. You haven’t even told them the truth”

“Because the truth would put them in danger. My time with them isn’t a lie. I never thought I’d find two friends like them, no matter how long I lived. But our time as friends has a limit and until then I want to enjoy myself with them as long as possible. Go back to the house and cool your head”

“But... I...”

Lance wanted to reach out and ruffle Keith’s silky black hair. He wanted to do something to take away the heaviness of his words. But Keith forming some kind of attachment would only hurt both of them. It was better to sever the tie before it even began

“I’ll see you later”

*

Pidge and Hunk were waiting in his car for him. They’d set themselves up in the back, playing uno and getting crumbs from their snacks everywhere. Noticing him first, Pidge threw her hand down, clambering out the back to throw her arms around him

“You fucking afk jerk! Where were you?!”

“Busy. You know it is, just another fun filled day being a lawyer”

“I tried calling you!”

“I broke my phone. I’m okay now”

“Good! You scared me. You didn’t even like call me back”

Lance wrapped his arms around Pidge, resting his chin on the top of her head. He wasn’t sure how much trouble he could have gotten himself in the last 20 hours, but he’d obviously scared her

“I’m sorry Pidgeon. I see you and Hunk let yourselves into my car”

“What kind of idiot leaves his keys on the front tyre? That’s like asking for it be stolen”

“I know. I’m the biggest idiot around”

“You are. Now, where’s Keith?”

Pidge stepped out of Lance’s hold to peer around him

“Keith’s back at the house”

“Why?”

“Because I had a few things to do in town? He’s stuck waiting until his brother can come pick him up”

“Soooo, he’s like free tonight?”

Lance groaned

“Pidge, noooo”

She was definitely scheming something he wasn’t up for

“I think you mean, “Pidge, yes!””

“Nope. I definitely said no. Whatever it is, no”

Pidge crossed her arms with a huff

“You haven’t even heard what I’m about to say”

“That’s because I know you’re always scheming in that evil genius brain of yours”

“I am not! But anyway, you know how they let us use the visitors centre... well, apparently someone saw an actual ghost there today! They called me and asked if we can come back”

Lance looked past Pidge to where Hunk was now shuffling the uno cards

“Did she tell you?”

“Yep”

“And did you say no?”

“Yep”

“And she didn’t take no for an answer, did she?”

“Nope”

“Piiiiiidge. You’re going to give him nightmares again”

“It’ll be worth if it we can capture it on film! Anyway, so, like, we’ll go back to your house, pick Keith up, then come back and get my stuff, then we’re all going to go film a ghost!”

Because seeing Keith so soon wasn’t going to be awkward as fuck...

“I don’t think Keith will be interested”

“Of course he will be! He might as well have “I want to believe” tattooed across his forehead”

Keith did believe... it kind of went with the territory

“Pidge...”

“Ah, ah, ah, nope. This is your punishment for making Hunk and I worry about you. And I’m totally driving”

“Not in this life time. God... you really want to do this, don’t you?”

“Yep”

“And Keith has to come?”

“Yep”

“And you’re not going to take no for an answer, are you?”

Pidge beamed, knowing Lance was such a pushover that she could basically ask him for anything her mischievous little brain thought of

“Nope”

“Fine. Fine. Tonight, only. If we don’t catch a ghost, you’re in trouble, missy”

Pidge threw her arms around Lance again

“You’re the best! Let’s go get Keith!”

Ugh... Nope... Lance hoped that whoever was keeping track of his cosmic record was noting down that this was under pressure and he thought it’d be best to leave Keith alone. He’d told Keith to go find some friends, but now it seemed his friends we’re pretty set on making friends with Keith, taking away the whole “finding” part. Personally Lance couldn’t provide Hunk and Pidge with any higher recommendations that didn’t sound really fucking creepy, bordering on obsessive, and stalkery, he knew the best points of both of them, and their not so best ones, but he didn’t want to go recommending them to Keith because they were supposed to be his friends, and he was supposed to be getting rid of Keith... Fucking humans made things so damn complicated.

[invertedeidolon]

The Longest Library #3: Griffin & Sabine by Nick Bantock (Or, Eidolon again talks way too much about previous relationships, also, pretty art!)

(This is a series in which I attempt to read and review all (or most of) my library of 297 books.)

Rundown: Postcard artist Griffin Moss gets a weird letter from a weird lady who can apparently see what he's drawing telepathically. They form an ill concieved bond over it. The story is told in colorful postcards and envelopes you can open and then read the mysterious things inside. 4.5/5 for calling me THE FUCK OUT and having some BOMB ASS ART.

I can't give it a full 5 because not everyone is going to have that experience when they read this. It's just going to look very strange and floaty and things won't make very much sense. This book hits close to home with me because it heavily echoes (more like yells about) my first long distance relationship. I'm not really able to see this book through any other lens, so that's what my commentary is mostly about.

So for the part that ISN'T about that stuff though: The art is amazing. Even though it's made by one person technically, both fictional artists have their own, distinct style. Let's be real: The art and the interactivity is the main draw of this book. There are envelopes inside with letters carrying a myriad of little details: Griffin uses a typewriter for his long-form letters, and bits where he's crossed out typos or added in letters with pen, or that Sabine's correspondence is something I now recognize as someone who uses quills or manual dip pens. The inconsistency in the color of her writings suggests she's using a homemade ink, brownish in color, slightly too watery. Maybe it's even watered down watercolor and not even ink at all. They've also made the background of her letters and cards a rich dark gray, while Griffin's is a clean, sterile white.

"Will you explain to me about those geometric paintings you did at Art college? I want to understand their hidden language of color and shape. It's so alien to me."

So this is about the fourth time I'm reading this book since I first got it, and now that I have to write about it, I'm noticing so many more details. Here the line "It's so alien to me."is written in smaller, slightly more rounded letters. The ink is much darker here too, suggesting she wrote this slowly, thoughtfully. What a detail!

Anyway that's it for the objective bits of the book, the rest is entirely subjective from here on out.

"The phenomenon that links us has taught me much about you, yet I am ignorant of your history."

My years and years of suffering emotional abuse set me up to be able to read and predict what was going on in your head perfectly, as well as respond in the most helpful ways with eerie precision, yet I am ignorant of your history, and who you really are (because you use such obtuse floaty language and metaphor. Who were you really? Suffering, but that's about all I could tell.)

"Why doesn't this alarm me as much as it should?"

Because we're already "in". And I "feel safe" to you because I've been trained to be the least offensive, most placating being in the universe. If I could build a business model on conversational comfort, if I could sell my goddamn empathy like the capitalist machine really wants me to, *I'd be so rich*. It would be like, a step down from therapist. Anybody want a virtual friend for like an hour? Gimme 20 and we can watch stupid videos or I can calmly talk you through bread making. It's okay, you can cry. GOD PLEASE LET ME JUST SELL MYSELF SAFELY, I WAS MADE FOR THIS GODDAMNIT.

"I want to hear everything. Write in detail. Tell me all about yourself. I demand to know - please."

This is like fucking CRACK to those with a suppressed self. An unwitnessed self. "Someone who's interested in ME, and won't yell at, ignore, or dismiss me for talking! Holy fuck I love you!"

"Finally I knew who you were. I counselled myself to be cautious and find out what you were like before revealing myself fully."

Sabine at this point is to the reader who I was to Him. A weird mythical creature, the non-human monster of your lonely adolescent imaginings, who is intimately aware of your secrets, "I've been watching you" it says before introducing you to a wondrous world free of the pains of living, where you actually feel loved and all is well forever and ever. Except I wasn't as inhuman as I wished to be.

"Occasionally I'd come home to a re-enactment of The Battle of Britain in the front room. [...] My entrance would make no difference to their dogfight, but when one of them accidentally (and inevitably) knocked over a pile of books, they'd stop instantly and unite to examine the extent of the damage."

The whole 'making light of a not-great home life because it was your normal for so long that you still haven't learned that you need to be horrified about it' thing. As well as passing it off as something funny. Thankfully this character's parents (SPOILER?) get literally run over by a truck and he gets sent to live with his mom's step sister who is really good and lets him ditch school to become a potter's apprentice and eventually go to art college. He never really deals with the grief when the step sister dies, OBVIOUSLY.

"And hearing that my existence eased your pain made my heart race. We have found one another, and I give thanks."

Hearing that my existence wasn't going to be punished but instead, made someone happy? Fucking HEROIN. Downplay it a little with grateful gentleness, I don't want to be punished for being presumptuous or for seeming like I like it too much. If I like things too much they get destroyed, hard.

"My kinsmen are responsive to me - but there is no one to reach my heart, and you who are so far away, have been closer to me than any man on the Islands."

This is something I remember. So far all they've done is shared eachother's life stories and gushed about how close they feel now. She (like my past self), has confused the feeling of 'finally, a witness! they're witnessing me! I've been Seen!' with the feeling of attachment. Of course she would feel infinitely more attached to this man. She's witnessed his most private moments as a creator for a good portion of her life. It's been a mainstay throughout her adolescence through adulthood, so of course an unwarranted sense of intimacy is going to be attached to this mysterious figure. The whole thing wrapped up in a dream like sense of mysticism.

"I remember your first erotic drawing; I was trembling from head to foot by the time you'd finished. Was that Sarah? No don't answer; I'm only teasing."

...Unless? (Man the implications hurt to think about. I REMEMBER THIS FEELING. This author has unintentionally called me out. I wonder how much of Sabine’s writing is actually calm, or if she’s reigning herself in almost constantly?)

"I was finding it hard to get over the idea of there being other men in your life when I reached the part in your letter about my erotic drawings. I stopped being jealous. We were lovers and I hadn't realized it. The drawings weren't of Sarah; they were of you."

ow ow ow ow ow ow JUST SAY IT ow ow ow ow, Also, I REALLY wanted her to be like 'bitch that looks nothing like me, what the fuck', but instead she's all like "So you've been making love to me ten thousand miles away - how tantalizing." URGH. TOO CLOSE, TOO FAST. DISENTANGLE YOURSELVES NOW. GRIFFIN GET HELP.

"I had failed to understand how unhappy you are. You cover up with jokes and a front of being self-contained. I'm worried for you."

EVEN SHE SEES IT, GET HELP.

"When you found me, I thought my loneliness had gone for good. I was kidding myself. I desperately desire your company. I haven't talked to anyone in three days. I was sure I was going to start seeing your pictures like you see mine. I've tried so hard. [...] How can I miss you this badly when we've never met?"

BECAUSE YOU MISS HUMAN CONTACT AND YOU DON'T HAVE ANY FAMILY LEFT YOU NERD, GET HELP. DON'T HANG IT ON ONE PERSON WHO IS TOO FAR AWAY TO HELP YOU IN THE WAY YOU NEED.

"Island magic works on island souls. You and I will heal eachother."

ANTIDEPRESSANTS MAYBE UUUUGGGGHHHHH

"I've started to hate this city, this country, all these stupid fucking people [...] I finally snapped. [...] I want to know what you look like."

*HEAVILY RECOILS*

"Why, my kindred spirit, are you prepared to settle for a postcard of my face? If you wish to see me, why not come here? What is there to stop you - you're clearly unhappy where you are. Come."

Yes. I offered and I offered and I offered. What's to stop you from just fucking TALKING TO ME instead of DISAPPEARING OVER AND OVER AGAIN. and then COMPLAINING THAT YOU'RE SO HURT AND LONELY. I'M LONELY TOO. WHEN I HAD THE MONEY YOU DIDN’T TAKE MY OFFER FOR ME TO COME SEE YOU, SO WHAT THE FUCK IS UP KYLE?

"Foolish man. You cannot turn me into a phantom because you are frightened."

This kind of sentiment is what lead to the breakup. This feeling of being large, and dark, and slighted. Being real and supernatural. Make your choice. Say REAL words instead of just flagellating yourself. Do I exist to you?

"If you will not join me, then I will come to you."

Unfortunately, Sabine has what I definitely did not: Mobility, the ability to make things real. She had a job and money and her own life and the ability to travel. I had a shitty little shared room in my parent's house where I spent most of the time partially starved and dodging devils in one form or another. Many many times I wanted to spontaneously show up and give him the closeness that he needed. But I couldn't. And he wouldn't take my words. He wouldn’t take me.

3 down, 294 to go.

[lesbiandeerstory]

IT’S DEER DEV UHHHHHH “WEDNESDAY”

so i missed last week and yesterday’s updates bcuz full disclosure life has been kicking my ass a bit lately, got alot of irons in the fire etc. but deer development doesn’t stop just bcuz my life is a mess, otherwise nothing would ever get done!

in my last update i challenged myself to try and chill out a bit so i could get thru a creative slump, and i guess mission failed successfully bcuz while i decidedly did NOT chill, i DID get thru that slump

in another recent post i talked about how i was dissatisfied with my magic system bcuz i couldn’t help comparing it unfavorably to homestuck’s aspect system, and also bcuz i’ve been struggling to come up with a deer magic system for 2 goddamn years and failing at it for that long was starting to get to me

well GOOD NEWS i have finally completed the magic system, for real this time. there’s a sense of finality that i kinda just feel in my bones when i KNOW that i’ve gotten somthn right creatively, and also at some point u just gotta put ur foot down and say “this is what we’re doing, we NEED to move on”. and i feel both of those ways about this system

part of the thing was that it was actually TWO systems i needed to figure out, one for classes and one for magic itself, and while the two systems are meant to function in harmony with each other, their separateness was a crucial distinction to make bcuz both systems required different tools to figure them out and create them

for the class system i needed to look at this world, these characters, and this story and see what kind of system naturally arose and could be extrapolated from what information was ALREADY THERE. but for magic i needed to tap into a mystical power, a sort of real life magic if u will. i am ofc referring to the magic of AUTISTIC HYPERFIXATION

so i made a class system based on the world and the characters, and i made a magic system based on a real life thing that i am fairly knowledgeable and EXTREMELY passionate about

i talked about the systems on twitter dot com a little already, in some very rambly threads, and i’ll try to clean those threads up a bit and port them over here to the dev blog in a way that’s more simple and clean so that we can all be on the same page about deer magic and deer classes

and then i will FINALLY have the deer magic post done. there will even be pictures! and by “pictures” i mean “bright colored text on a black background in png form”

i’ve also made some progress in terms of the writing and actual DEVELOPMENT, not just working on system mechanics. i’ve been fucking around with renpy a bit to get comfortable with the actual tools i’ll be using, and while i do occasionally hit a wall of “technology problem i don’t understand how to solve” by and large 90% of working with renpy is the easiest shit in the world

i have a decent idea of how to write my scripts in a way that’s compatible with how renpy parses them, which makes things even easier. once i have finished scripts, the part where i put them into renpy to make them visual novels will NOT BE A CHALLENGE

as for said scripts i’m making some progress there too. one hurdle i have to deal with is that i just don’t have time in my day realistically to dig out my bulky work computer to write as much script as i need to write. if i relied solely on my work computer to write the scripts, they would take eons to get finished and i want to be making consistent progress, EVERY DAY if possible!

but my non-work machine is a chromebook which is a little bastard devil machine that doesn’t have any of my writing tools on it, so i’ve had to get a little creative with how i write scripts. but that works out extremely well for me bcuz i do my best work when i’m forced to get creative about HOW i do that work

so i’ve figured out a way to write scripts without my writing tools and honestly?? i’ve only written one scene so far but the scene rocked ass AND!!!! this new method also has the added bonus of helping me skip one of the more boring steps of production so that’s pretty cool, and it fits the way my brain parses information super well. i think it’s a good system and i’m excited to experiment with it even more. i won’t go into the boring details of my process tho, suffice to say it’s so far working out knock on wood

i still like the idea of doing weekly challenges for myself, even if i haven’t been able to succeed at either of the two that i’ve set for myself so far lmao, but this week bcuz i’m kinda sifting thru the rubble and bomb ashes i’m just gonna play it by ear and see what i can do, and hopefully get back on a regular weekly update schedule this wednesday!

[thefaeriereview]

Serena Mendez is haunted and she is hunted…

SERPENT RISING

By Victor Acquista

Serena Mendez is haunted and she is hunted…

… Haunted by trauma—terrified and scarred as a young child, when a secret initiation into an ancient order of Lightbringers went horribly wrong. Unaware of the power latent in her blood, she is haunted by a life out of sync with her true identity. At twenty-one, she is abrasive, jobless, in debt, and addicted to sedatives. Haunted by her past, she knows nothing of her destiny.

… Hunted by an enemy—ruthless and powerful, a Brotherhood that has been pitted against the Luminarian Sects for thousands of years. An ancient struggle continues—The War of the Two Serpents—a saga extending back to the dawn of civilization, to the time of the second breaking, when the elite sought dominion over the masses. Those serving truth and light opposed these dark forces. In return they were persecuted, burned as witches, suppressed and nearly defeated by the powers of darkness.

But the flame was not extinguished.

An old Navajo dream-walker had a plan to open the seven chakras mystically binding Serena’s power. To fulfill her true destiny, to unleash the latent power within her blood, Serena journeys to six continents where she uncovers the truth of who she is, and what she must do.

A warrior stirs, a Lightbringer. She is Serena Mendez. She is awakening. She is a Candelaria…

Serpent Rising is a story of unfulfilled destiny, discovery, transformation, and courage to embrace the truth.

  Rating & Review

5 out of 5

Serpent Rising is a globe-trotting adventure. I absolutely LOVE Serena. She's flawed, but finds an inner strength she didn't know she had. Two powerful secret societies, a lost civilization, what more could you ask for? Serena’s journey not only helps her discover more about herself but unwraps mysteries. If you enjoy strong heroines on epic adventures, you'll quickly get wrapped up in Serena's story, and you won't want to put this down once you start!

More Praise

  “Author Victor Acquista has opened a pandora’s box of adventure in his new breath-taking thriller, Serpent Rising. I was swept away from the first page in this wonder-filled, mystical, and compelling novel. Cleverly plotted with a female protagonist, Serena Mendez, that is truly original in ancestry, yet very 21st century-real, with personal problems that she manages to set aside to pursue the very truth of her being. We join her in this a non-stop rush that mixes equal parts of  history, myth, and lore that I didn’t want to ever end! I’m already looking forward to more of Serena again and again. Acquista is the obvious heir apparent to the globe-trotting, can’t-be-put-down-novels such as The DaVinci Code and The House Of Secrets. Move over Dan Brown and Brad Meltzer, you have deserving company at your table with Serpent Rising!” — Patrick Kendrick, award-winning author of American Ripper: The Enigma Of America’s Serial Killer Cop. 

  Amazon → https://amzn.to/3inT9gU

 Barnes & Noble → https://bit.ly/3k1RqOK

BHC Press → https://www.bhcpress.com/Books_Acquista_Serpent_Rising.html

CHAPTER ONE

Impact…crash…darkness. The bedside table lamp and shattered light bulb lay on the floor, but Serena remained unmoved, without will or inclination to clean up the mess. She stared at the ceiling of her tiny efficiency apartment, lit solely by the eerie neon-green from the alarm clock’s LED. The glass fragments glittered, taunting her to get out of bed. Instead, she pondered the much larger mess of her life. She lay still, in a familiar paralysis of apathy. Somehow, a glimmer of hope broke through her complacence; she reached over and forced herself to set the alarm. Tomorrow she had another job interview. Desperation crowded out the apathy. Constricted by overwhelming inner and outer darkness, Serena’s breath became shallow. Her dry mouth and mounting anxiety muted her scream at life’s injustice into a muffled croak. Tomorrow would come…nothing would change. 

  Survival. A day without struggle followed by a night of peaceful rest—why did achieving this seem so elusive? Agitated, she threw the bedcovers aside. How much longer could this torture go on? Awake and staring overhead, she felt every bit as broken as the glass shards. Her light within had all but extinguished itself, not unlike the fragile bulb. Could tomorrow be her first step out from the deep dark hole that hollowed her insides? Tomorrow she had another job interview. She double-checked the alarm setting. Serena’s fingertips ached as she desperately clung to the possibility of change. 

   Reaching into her bedside drawer, she randomly pulled out some meds and dry-swallowed two pills. Serena didn’t look to check what they were; she kept four or five different sleep meds stashed there. Not that it mattered. None of them worked. Serena needed to speak to Dr. Jenkins about that. Sleep did not come easily to the twenty-one-year-old woman afflicted with anxiety, plagued by PTSD, her life in shambles. 

   Sometimes it seemed better to stay awake. Steadily worsening vivid nightmares had been infiltrating her dreams. She tossed and turned, trying to stave off the inevitable, trying to deceive herself that tonight the meds would work. Ensnared between apathy and hope, Serena nestled into a crevice of momentary comfort. Her breathing slowed; the cadence of soft snores interrupted the green stillness. 

   It felt cold in the cave. Even lying on the sleeping rug, the rock floor was hard. She shivered, more from fear than the cold. Why did her great aunt, her shibízhí insist she sleep here alone tonight? She remembered her shibízhí saying with no moon the cave would be black. Serena blinked, but it didn’t matter whether her eyes were open or closed; she couldn’t tell the difference. Repeating and following her aunt’s instructions, she crawled to the edge of the pool then stood up to her knees in the still water. Keep your eyes open. Keep your eyes open. Her shibízhí had said that was the most important thing, not to close her eyes. But she couldn’t see anything. She wanted to be brave; she didn’t want to disappoint her shibízhí, but she was scared. It was so dark. 

  That’s when she saw something. It was just a blur, a smudge of light. Something glowed and slowly took shape—long and curved, it moved toward her. Immersed in blackness, water up to her knees, the creature moved closer. Wavelets rippled against her small trembling body. What was it? The creature glowed with the shape-shifting form of something. She strained her eyes. It looked like a… “No!” she screamed, shutting her eyes and not daring to move. “Shibízhí, help me!” There was no response, and then it touched her skin, curling around her leg. 

  Serena bolted up, heart pounding and sweating as she reached to turn on the bedside table lamp, but the broken light with its shattered bulb still lay on the floor. Partly yelling, partly sobbing, “Damn dream! Goddamned dream! Goddamned aunt! Eleven years and you still haunt me!” 

  She steadied herself by taking two more pills. Wide awake, lying in near total darkness and still terrified, she tried to fall back to sleep. Jaws clenched tight, trying in vain to stop her teeth from chattering; she shivered, gooseflesh covering her arms held close against her chest. It touched me. It touched me. That’s never happened before…

  Victor Acquista has become an international author and speaker following his careers as a primary-care physician and medical executive. He is known for “Writing to Raise Consciousness.” His multi-genre works include fiction and nonfiction and often incorporate social messaging to engage readers in thought-provoking themes.

He is a member of the Authors Guild, the Mystery Writers of America, the Florida Writers Association, Writers Co-op, and is a Knight of the Sci-Fi Roundtable.

When not pondering the big questions in life and what’s for dinner, he enjoys gardening and cooking. He lives with his wife and dog in Ave Maria, Florida.

  Website: https://victoracquista.com/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/VictorAcquista

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/victoracquistaauthor/

Tour: Serpent Rising https://ift.tt/39ypOP8

[andinarcadiai]

Part 1

On to Letter B!

I was very glad to have your letter, and am very sorry to hear that you have been in affliction. About the delay, however, I think I ought to tell you that the original Rule of the Order of A.'. A.'. was that the introducer read over a short lection to the applicant, then left him alone for a quarter of an hour, and on coming back received a "yes" or "no." If there was any hesitation about it the applicant was barred for life.

Wow, y’all are assholes! What if they have questions? What if they don’t know when meetings are and they have a conflict? Life is a thing that happens to most people, so I’m not really down with this. Again, we’re getting into the Rich White Male Victorian problem. Most people aren’t going to be able to upend their lives immediately.

The reason for the relaxation of the rule was that it was thought better to help people along in the early stages of the work, even if there was no hope of their turning out first-class. But I should like you to realize that sooner or later, whether in this incarnation or another, it is put up to you to show perfect courage in face of the completely unknown, and the power of rapid and irrevocable decision without counting the cost.

Perfect courage has nothing to do with snap decisions, and not counting the cost only works for people with enough that it won’t matter. Also, screw you, often the people who struggle at first turn out to be amazing later on. They’ve had to put in a lot of work to lay the correct foundations the first time. So stop discounting people just because they don’t conform to how you learn!

Asshole.

What is the use of being a woman if you have not got an intuition, an instinct enabling you to distinguish between the genuine and the sham?

Fuck

You

This is not some sort of innate ability that comes standard with a vagina! There are many uses to being a woman, primarily being that we are not obliged to be associate with your misogynistic ass! Take that pedestal you tried to put her on and shove it where the sun don’t shine, you complete twatwaffle!

Your state of mind suggests to me that you must have been, in the past, under the influence of people who were always talking about things, and never doing any real work. They kept on arguing all sorts of obscure philosophical points; that is all very well, but when you have succeeded in analysing your reactions you will understand that all this talk is just an excuse for not doing any serious work. 

Pot, kettle.

Admittedly, It is a good point about armchair philosophers thinking deep thoughts without any connection to the real world, but this fucking guy is not the person to be lecturing about that!

I am confirmed in this judgment by your saying: "I don't know if I want to enter into a great conflict. I need peace." Fortunately you save yourself by adding: "Real peace that is living and not stagnant." All life is conflict. Every breath that you draw represents a victory in the struggle of the whole Universe. You can't have peace without perfect mastery of circumstance; and I take it that this is what you mean by "living, not stagnant."

What she means is she’s a 40′s housewife and if she doesn’t get out she’s going to start scratching at the walls.

Taken completely out of context, I do like the sentiment of “every breath you draw represents a victory in the struggle of the whole universe.” That bit I like. But more in the sense of knowing that your continued existence is a victory when the world is trying to get you down.

Not how he says it.

But it is of the first consequence for you to summon up the resolution to stamp on this sea of swirling thoughts by an act of will; you must say: "Peace be still." The moment you have understood these thoughts for what they are, tools of the enemy, invented by him with the idea of preventing you from undertaking the Great Work—the moment you dismiss all such considerations firmly and decisively, and say: "What must I do?" and having discovered that, set to work to do it, allowing of no interruption, you will find that living peace which (as you seem to see) is a dynamic and not a static condition.

This feels creepy to me.

It sounds like it’s advocating for not thinking or examining things, which DANGER!!!

This is why I wish we had the other half of the correspondence. I think this might have to do with the dangers of overthinking, but I can’t tell without the comments from the other letter that sparked this.

This is also where I remain salty about the “"What must I do?" and having discovered that, set to work to do it, allowing of no interruption.” Good luck on the no interruption if you don’t have a staff of people trained to cater to your every whim! What about children, and food, and laundry, and a goddamn job, huh?

Honestly it kind of reminds me of a story I recall about George Wythe. (Signer of the Declaration of Independence, first law professor in America, tutor to Thomas Jefferson, etc.) Dude was big into science, philosophy, classics, languages, law, all sorts of stuff! Giant nerd, right? Then his wife dies. Very sad. And there’s this letter he writes afterwards about how he can’t SCIENCE properly because people keep coming in to ask him about what to cook for food that day, what the finances are looking like, everything, constantly, all day. And it frustrates the snot out of him! And it shows that the only way for George Wythe to be George Wythe is if Elizabeth Wythe is doing absolutely everything else to keep that house running!

And this is why I keep being frustrated with this guy. He doesn’t recognize the ordinary, everyday, completely non-mystical effort someone has to expend in order for him to do the “Great Work.” So if he asked me “What must I do?” my answer would be “Housework.”

I obeyed the injunction to "buy a perfectly black hen, without haggling." I have spent over 100,000 pounds of my inherited money on this work: and if I had a thousand times that amount today it would all go in the same direction. It is only when one is built in this way, to stand entirely aloof from all considerations of twopence halfpenny more or fourpence halfpenny less, that one obtains perfect freedom on this Plane of Discs.

Remember what I said above?

Ditto.

Not all of us have 100,000 pounds to devote to anything, you asshat! What about the rest of us that didn’t inherit money, eh? We can’t stand aloof like that because we don’t have your financial backing! If your paradigm won’t work without thousands of pounds, it’s a rubbish paradigm and something has to change!  

All the serious Orders of the world, or nearly all, begin by insisting that the aspirant should take a vow of poverty; a Buddhist Bhikku, for example, can own only nine objects —his three robes, begging bowl, a fan, toothbrush, and so on. The Hindu and Mohammedan Orders have similar regulations; and so do all the important Orders of monkhood in Christianity.

Our own Order is the only exception of importance; and the reason for this is that it is much more difficult to retain one's purity if one is living in the world than if one simply cuts oneself off from it. It is far easier to achieve technical attainments if one is unhampered by any such considerations. These regulations operate as restrictions to one's usefulness in helping the world.

Oh really?!?! Then give me all your money and I’ll make it useful in helping the world!

There are terrible dangers, the worst dangers of all, associated with complete retirement. In my own personal judgment, moreover, I think that our own ideal of a natural life is much more wholesome.

Like what?

Also, this smacks a little (a lot) of 18th century Rousseau-esque natural state nonsense. Like Marie Antoinette and la petit triannon. Point is, I get the feeling he has no idea what he’s talking about when he starts in on “natural life.”

The End! Holy shit! So much shorter! Woooooo! Admittedly, this letter was entirely filled with rubbish, but it was short!

Onwards to Letter C!

[tanmath3-blog]

Paul Michael Anderson is a new friend and writer to me. I am enjoying getting to know him. He has a delightful sense of humor and makes me laugh. He is passionate about his writing and his life. He loves his wife and daughter and I loved to hear him talk about them. He tells me that he is boring but I doubt that to be the case. I haven’t read his stories yet but have added his book Bones Are Made To Be Broken to my to be read pile. If you haven’t met him you are missing out on a really great guy. Please check him and his books out and say hello. Please welcome Paul Michael Anderson to Roadie Notes……

    1. How old were you when you first wrote your first story? I have no idea, really; I’ve always written something. My first published piece, ever, was when I was eighteen–a music review, I think. I started out as a journalist, in college. My first published fictional story was called “The Migration of Birds” in a small digest called BLACK INK HORROR, back in 2008.

2. How many books have you written?

I’ve dallied around with novels, but I’ve focused for the past few years on short fiction. My book BONES ARE MADE TO BE BROKEN is a kind-of “best-of” collection of the past five years.

3. Anything you won’t write about?

Not that I can think of—I won’t write anything that exploits a stereotype or a child or a woman, though, but those types of “stories” don’t interest me much, anyway. Horror, which I tend to traffic in, only works when the reader can place him or herself in that situation and relate to the reactions of the participants. You can’t do that when the characters—both good and bad guys—are one-sided or used to push forth a noxious ideology. Stories need to be populated with real people, whether they be victims or heroes or villains, and there’s a whole ball of virtues and flaws in each one. I’ve written about fairly heady subjects—abuse, neglect, the breaking-down of marriages and relationships—but while those things, when dealt with head-on, are controversial in and of themselves, I keep the focus on the people and how they adapt to those situations. I guess that’s the difference between exploration and exploitation—exploration cares about the people and how they adapt; exploitation cares about the controversial subjects and what they do with people.

4. Tell me about you. Age (if you don’t mind answering), married, kids, do you have another job etc…

I’m in my mid-thirties, with a wife and five-year-old daughter. I’ve taught English and journalism for the past ten years (it’s what I went to college for, natch), and I enjoy the hell out of it.

5. What’s your favorite book you have written?

I have stories that are my favorites right NOW, but that’s like picking your favorite kid for all time and not just being proud of a particular current achievement. Right, in print, I’m loving a story I wrote called “All That You Leave Behind”, which you can find closing both my book and the anthology LOST SIGNALS, edited by Max Booth III and Lori Michelle for Perpetual Motion Machine Publishing; as a parent, I’m terrified of a whole bunch of stuff relating to my child and being a parent, etc. That story asked the what-if of picking up the pieces after a miscarriage and brought in parallel universes.

In the pipeline, I wrote a Lovecraftian-esque novelette called “I Can Give You Life” that I’m digging because I had to stretch a little (I don’t tend to write Lovecraft and, also, I set the story during a non-specific time in the late-1950s in Northern Virginia) that’ll be showing up in a year or so. Another story, “How I Became a Cryptid from a 1980s Horror Movie” will be showing up in SPACE & TIME magazine early next year—I love it because it’s so goddamned weird (a guy is cursed to being a sentient lake and it only goes downhill from there).

6. Who or what inspired you to write?

I like telling stories and getting a reaction, a connection, with an audience; I’ll be elucidating on some point in the classroom, or connecting a concept to an anecdote and I try to make the students laugh because, if they laugh, they’re absorbing the concept, at least on a minimal level that I can use as leverage to go deeper.

But, reading books like THE TALISMAN by Stephen King & Peter Straub or ANOTHER DAY IN PARADISE by Eddie Little or FIRST BLOOD by David Morrell had me cock my head at a young age and go, “THAT seems like a good job.”

7. What do you like to do for fun?

I’m a horrendously boring mid-thirties parent. All the out-of-control, nihilistic wild stuff I got out of my system when I was in my teens and early twenties. Hell, my only vices are coffee and cigarettes.

Saying all that, if I’m by myself, I love cruising bookstores and junk shops and thrift stories. I love reading and playing my guitar and doodling. With my kid…hell, doing whatever a five-year-old girl who likes to pretend she’s a “vampire princess pony with FROZEN powers, Daddy” decides to do.

8. Any traditions you do when you finish a book?

Not really; I wrote, in the introduction to BONES ARE MADE TO BE BROKEN, that writing is a job to me—not much different from when I was a landscaper or waiter or reporter. I mean, there’s sentiment in what I do and if I’m not feeling anything about a scene or a conflict, then I can’t expect a reader to, so I’m emotionally invested in the writing. But, at the same time, it’s a job and, when I finish, I save, I print, I shut down the computer, and go back to my life as a parent and husband. I have routines—I always have coffee on-hand when writing; I always listen to a certain mix of music—but I try not to be overly superstitious about the whole thing because, to me, that makes it all mystical and hokey and, really, it’s me using a muscle—a muscle with some talent (I hope) but it’s still me at the controls and, ultimately, me responsible for something good or bad.

9. Where do you write? Quiet or music?

When I was fucking around with writing—liking the idea of being a writer but not putting in the hard work of doing the writing—I had an office, but, not long before I found out my wife was pregnant, I chucked it in favor of writing in more populated areas of the house—the bedroom, the kitchen, etc. I didn’t want to put myself away from others because it’s others that I was writing about. Consequently—this was in mid-2010—I began selling a metric shit-tonne (to accurately measure in Canadian terms) of work.

Currently, I write in my kitchen, after my daughter goes to bed and while my wife surfs Netflix or prepares for the next day. I set my laptop up on the table, get my coffee, have a cigarette (outside), and get to work. I have a mix of two Foo Fighters’s albums—WASTING LIGHT and their ST. CECILIA ep, totaling about 70 minutes of hard rock—that I listen to with headphones. It’s pretty low-tech. If I’m revising, I have a physical marked copy on a stand that I refer to, but I’m pretty minimalist and mobile. I can write pretty much anywhere as long as I have headphones, music, and a computer. And coffee, too.

10. Anything you would change about your writing?

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

Sure. Of course. Writers, like any creative type, can be neurotic, self-doubting mental cases, and I’m no exception. When I’m reviewing the previous day’s work—some call it “fractal editing” but I have no idea if that’s the right term, and couldn’t care less—I’ll find myself wishing, goddammit, why couldn’t I put down exactly what I saw in my head? How could I miss this detail? Why didn’t I know this word?

But then I simply delete and revise and try again.

I wish I wrote faster, I guess. I, when on a hot streak, can lay down between 2k-3k, but that’s on a hot streak. I have writer’s laze, I guess; I might be working on something but, at 9:45, when my daughter’s finally asleep, I’ll find myself thinking, “Man, I just want to zone on Facebook, or watch this movie with my wife, or—shit—I have to get these dishes washed,” and I have to fight that. I don’t always win that battle, which is annoying.

11. What is your dream? Famous writer?

In a business-sense, I dream of making enough to sustain myself and not put publishers in the red; I already mostly do that, so, y’know, achievement unlocked and all that. I dream of making a reader react on a deep level to some situation I write about—make a parent cry at the end of “All That You Leave Behind” or a sibling gasp at the situation in “The Agonizing Guilt of Relief (Last Days of a Ready-Made Victim)”—but make them unable to stop reading. I can manage that, sometimes.

I don’t worry about fame, and I don’t say this in a hipster-sort-of-way. I want to make a living and, right now, writing’s a nice supplement (my income this year is paying for Christmas and some light house remodeling, for example). If I get “known” for it, cool, but that wouldn’t stop me. I’d write and tell stories even if no one was listening. At the end of the day, you want to make a reader pick up your story, but, at the beginning of that day, that hypothetical reader shouldn’t mean shit to you. At the beginning of the day, you write for yourself because it makes you feel good and you want to follow the thread of whatever popped into your head. If you keep true to that concept at the beginning of the day, that hypothetical reader will stay with you at the end of the day.

12. Where do you live?

Northern Virginia, currently, but I’ve lived all over the Eastern Seaboard. I’m a city kid, but have been hiding out in the small towns of the Shenandoah Valley.

13. Pets?

Two dogs, three cats, and one turtle. All rescues. The dogs and one of the cats came from the local Humane Society, while the other two cats were strays and the turtle was a very-late hatching my daughter found in the front garden. They’re all neurotic as hell.

14. What’s your favorite thing about writing?

In the moment of actually telling a story, I love that frisson when the words and the concepts and the action come together beautifully and I knew I couldn’t have put something better and that’s okay because what you put down was good enough. There’s a moment, in the title novella for my collection (I wrote the novella specifically for the book; it’s one of two original pieces) that pops into my head. The novella isn’t supernatural and the horror comes, for me, at the idea of things spiraling out of control. It takes place in the fall of 1991 and concerns itself with a single mother trying to make ends meet in the city. She hides how she feels from her son and her ex-husband, whom she sees when they do the pick-up/drop-off of custody visits, and takes to cutting. She hides the marks, out of shame, but there’s a moment, where she slips up, and this stranger sees it, and looks at the mother differently. The moment pauses, elongates, becomes torturous. This moment reverberates throughout the entire story.

I think that’s neat.

15. What is coming next for you?

I have a handful of stories coming out in various places over the next year or so. I wrote an essay for StephenKingRevisited.com about one of the books whenever Richard Chizmar gets around to finishing said book. My author bio says I’m working on my first novel and that’s true-ish; I’m working on a psychological horror novel tentatively titled BETTER PEOPLE and we’ll see where that goes.

    My bio: Paul Michael Anderson is a short story writer and editor. A teacher and sometime-journalist, he lives in Northern Virginia with his wife and daughter. You can visit him at his website The Nothing-Space (paulmichaelanderson.wordpress.com) or follow him on Twitter, where he posts under the inspired handle of @p_m_anderson.

    You can connect with Paul Michael Anderson here:

BONES ARE MADE TO BE BROKEN: http://www.darkregions.com/books/new-releases/bones-are-made-to-be-broken-by-paul-michael-anderson

Twitter: https://twitter.com/P_M_Anderson

Website: https://paulmichaelanderson.wordpress.com/

Some of Paul Michael Anderson’s books:

Getting personal with Paul Michael Anderson Paul Michael Anderson is a new friend and writer to me. I am enjoying getting to know him.