Friends

Last night The Helvetica Quartet* won second place in a pub quiz, and today we proudly sport our victory trophies — alcohol-themed tee shirts. Mine is a kicky baby-doll number with a Jameson logo splashed across my boobs. Do I drink Irish Whiskey? Generally speaking, no. But I do look smashing in a good emerald green, so I’m pleased all the same.

I’m really enjoying these quiz nights, but this most recent installment of trivia and strife may have cost me a little faith in the process … even though I understand that the M.C. had no way of knowing that — lurking within the seething throngs of cheerfully drunk trivia aficionados — she had a small table that was populated with grammar pseudo dominatrices.

I say “pseudo” because it’s like this: having a well-versed and thorough understanding of correct grammar does not mean that any given one of us is (necessarily) likely to use it. We aren’t the sort of folks who go around with red pens, correcting the spelling inside bathroom stalls; and we aren’t even the kind of people who can remember, off the top of our heads, the rest of that whole “i” before “e” except after “c” rule.

Nay. We are the kind of dorks who find it damn near hilarious to talk out loud in LOLCAT. So let it not be said that we are Accuracy Nazis when it comes to English language usage.

HOWEVER. As we learned last night, if you sufficiently liquor up a woman with a master’s degree in that subject who furthermore writes for a living, and then you try to dock her team points over a correctly deduced apostrophe misfire, then by God you’d better be prepared to run faster and climb higher than a drunkenly irate author with a belly full of hard cider and jalepeno poppers.

It was not my finest hour.
But. For the record.

Correct: The trivia question and its potential answers were unclear at best.
Incorrect: Cherie chewed on the M.C.’s microphone and it’s stand.

Correct: This is about honor. It’s not about inebriated indignation.
Incorrect: Well, I got this question off an English website so its right.

Correct: Use that excuse all you want, but it’s not going to cut it at the MLA.
Incorrect: But its just a trivia question. Its no big deal!

Correct: Of course it’s a big deal! There are free tee-shirts at stake!
Incorrect: Fine. I guess its a bad question and we’ll throw it out.

Cherie: Wiktory!
M.C.: (mutters) Jesus H. Christ in a chicken bucket …

Here’s today’s progress on the west coast steampunk Victoriana book with zombies, air ships, toxic gas clouds, mad scientists, dead folk heroes, secret criminal societies, and Bonus! extended deleted scenes from the Civil War:

Project: The Boneshaker
New Words: 3510 (pretty good!)
Present Total Word Count: 123,267 words
Goal: 130,000 words by July 1st.





Observations: Steampunk is fun to write. It is also complicated, and reaching the end of this book has started to feel like a sisyphean undertaking. But if nothing happens to eat my life during the rest of this week, I might be able to cough up a Draft Zero by Friday afternoon. Then again, I might be an overly optimistic liar. Stay tuned.

Things Accomplished in Real Life: Two loads of laundry, including bedding; sent off book review; corresponded extensively with distant friends and colleagues; learned my way around my twitter account a little better; determined that I might be far too boring to maintain this twitter account; decided that maybe I’d just use it as a link dump or something, but I don’t want to ditch it yet; spent a downright silly amount of time chatting in gmail with my college roommate and a fashion-fixated Australian woman.

Reason for Stopping: Came to the end of my chapter. Also, it’s Tuesday night — and that means that The Helvetica Quartet shall ride again … or at least, we shall drink and giggle and participate in a pub quiz over in West Seattle. Ergo, I ought to brush my hair or throw on some respectable clothes or something. Also [:: glances out the window ::] I need to drag out my rain boots. The weather is sucking ass.*

Total Fiction Words Composed in 2008: 191,842

Sevilla~

I know, you guys have been waiting! LONG awaiting! Can you believe that we left for Spain now a month ago?

First, I need to say, I LOVE trains. I love traveling, oh my god thinking about it excites me. Yes, that kind of excite, I’m a little wet and I just salivated~ But that’s really neither here nor there except that I love it. I was a little surprised (and more than pleased) at how painless it was to get on the train. Sure okay, turns out that we sat in the wrong seats, (there WERE seat assignations on that ticket, not just the coche) But everyone … it’s almost like everyone in Europe just is in a better mood, but it’s because they’re used to waiting because they’re used to public transportation and crowds. The entire line getting on the train got held up because we’re (me, I get all the blame here) idiots, but no one complained or even looked at all grouchy. So embly and I hopped up, got off the train and got back on at the other door so we wouldn’t hold them up farther. We weren’t really sitting together on that trek, we both had aisle seats across from each other though. And the guy I was sitting next to kept making this clucking noise, I figured out eventually he doesn’t do it on purpose, but my god is it irritating. I was able to block him out eventually though, and I don’t think that I even put in my music.

So we arrive in Sevilla! Huzzah! We get a taxi to the hotel, and my god did the streets look tiny and like no car should ever drive on them. (Little did we know we’d seen nothing yet)

The hotel was cute enough. It was nice to have our own private bathroom. Mostly because I liked not feeling grossed out if I took off my shoes. The concierge guy was nice, mapping out a walking tour for us. But more importantly, the weather was splendiferous. We set out going along his path, and oh my god, SHOES. Shoes shoes, everywhere you look there were shoes. I had a rule set for myself that before I was allowed to look at any fun shoes I must needs purchase walking sandals. And even though they don’t suit my every need, I’m happy with the purchase, and hey! A souveneir to always make me think of Spain! At least until they fall apart.

We walked around though, just enjoying the city and found ourselves outside of the cathedral. And then promptly walked around it in entirety trying to find the door in, finally, success! One was open! Paid our three euros and got to go inside. It was pretty cool, but the neatest thing about it was the bell tower, much different than the others I’ve seen, it had a RAMP. Those moors really knew what they were doing, building a ramp so they could ride their horses up and down it instead of walking.

Also, this needs to be mentioned. The oranges. Wow, I never realized how romantic orange trees were before.

So as we walked around the exterior of the cathedral we kept seeing these horse drawn carriages. (oh this reminds me that in Madrid it occurred to me that a fun children’s book to make would be about how someone does all this traveling to all these places but keeps wanting to look at the horses. Luckily for my traveling companion, there were lots of ancient as well as alive horses to be found)

Right, so after the cathedral, tapas and sangria. While we were there roguemynock decides that yes, a carriage ride was in order. (By the way? Excellent sangria)

So we do that. It was wonderful. Again, partially due to the splendiferous weather. But it was a great way to get a quick tour of the scenic stops. And the driver did a fairly good job of pointing everything out to us as we went.  Then after our ride we walked back to the Plaza de Espana and oooh’d and awed before going to the park to sit for a bit. Home again home again, we stopped and shopped a little on the way. Then wound up not eating dinner I think. Oh funny, I just read my notes on that night, and my handwriting is atrocious so I couldn’t figure out what on EARTH I was saying, turns out I started writing half my words in Spanish somewhere along the notetaking way.

Day Six:

I didn’t want to get up, so we didn’t get breakfast. Instead I managed to drench the bathroom with my shower. It really took talent to get it that wet.  This was the day we saw the Real Alcazar. After my mayonnaise sandwich. (That’ll teach me to stay in bed)

We spent hours in the palace and the surrounding gardens. Being a harem maiden wouldn’t be so bad I suppose. I think the only story to come out of that is roguemynock lost her sunglasses. We were about to leave, I think we were even in the gift shop at the end? And she realized that they were missing. We retraced our steps to no avail. They were nowhere. Then she got the brilliant idea to check through the thousands of pictures we took of her to see when they were last visible! Aha! A CLUE. So we retraced just those steps, scouring the ground along the way. It was kinda funny. (now) (okay, a little funny then the way we were doing it. Totally re-inacting all of our silly actions, not once but twice.  Finally back to the gift shop and I explain to the woman letting me make my purchase that we need the lost and found, she directs us to the man at the exit. So I ask him if anyone gave him a pair of sunglasses, he nods and pulls out the exact ones! Yay! We win!

So four hours later we wander in search of sustenance and instead find internets. Then we do more shopping, and at last wind up for wine and tapas. We managed to drink quite a bit, and the bartender boy was quite nice. Yeah, that was quite a bit of drinking, I had to hold onto someone’s hand as we walked back because I was afraid she’d wander off and I’d lose her forever.

Oh yeah, and that was the night we had to find affirmation that she is NOT SHORT. Turns out that she thought she was only 5’6.5 when really she’s closer to two inches taller than that.

In the middle of the night (4:30 am) I wake up because someone’s gotten up. That’s when I realize that there’s a terrible racket going on. The building that the hotel was in was the typical old building with an enclosed courtyard in the middle. It had been remodeled at some point, with the courtyard cut in half, but that’s really neither here nor there. Our room was on the first floor with a giant window overlooking the ‘courtyard’ (accessible computron & chair). The problem is that there was a sound effect created, so that when it rained it became an echo chamber funneling directly into our bedroom that sounded like flamenco dancers on our heads.

That next morning I also woke up with a headache, the only such one in the trip. I don’t know if it was the wine, the low pressure system/rain, something else, or all of the above.

But no matter, off to Granada!

• 21:59 Just broke my very first bone. #

Spain the Cat has developed a real fondness for cheese slices — which she prefers to consume directly off the couch. Yes, that’s right. I have to tear the cheese into pieces and let her lick them off the leather. Gruesome? Perhaps. But it beats the hell out of shoelaces and hair twisties.

(1). Those of you who’ve read or seen Dreadful Skin may remember that it was illustrated by a guy named Mark Geyer — the same fellow who illustrated Stephen King’s The Green Mile. If you’d like to get an advance peek at some of the artwork for my next Subterranean offering, Those Who Went Remain There Still, then you should click this link and go looking for the hillbillies and the bird monsters.

(2). Because I am a procrastinating dork, I spent a frankly ridiculous amount of time today noodling with my livejournal’s settings and appearance. Now, I think, its color scheme and general mood is more in tune with my formal webpage. Erm. Sorta.

(3). I have succumbed to peer pressure and started a Twitter account. I’m not sure how useful I’ll find it, or how often I’ll use it, but here it is, if you’re interested. Feel free to add me. I’m sure it’ll become less of a mystery to me over the next few days.

(4). Here’s today’s progress on the west coast steampunk Victoriana book with zombies, air ships, toxic gas clouds, mad scientists, dead folk heroes, secret criminal societies, and Bonus! extended deleted scenes from the Civil War:

Project: The Boneshaker
New Words: 1879 (meh)
Present Total Word Count: 119,757 words
Goal: 130,000 words by July 1st.

119,757 / 130,000 (92.1%)

Observations: I’m almost to the point where Zeke and Briar’s narratives will knit back together again. This is trickier to navigate than I expected, but I think it’ll work out all right. I’ve started making lists of the things that need to occur in this chaotic pre-reunion scene — who lives, who dies, who gets eaten by zombies … etc.

Things Accomplished in Real Life: I spent the weekend preoccupied with freelance work and Emerald City Comic Con [see previous post], but today I got Draft Zero accomplished on all outgoing independent projects.

Reason for Stopping: I’d like to see Draft One accomplished on two of the three projects by this evening. Also, I’m trying to upload a video of Spain the Cat licking cheese off the couch, because it is gently hilarious. In the event that YouTube ever agrees to host the damn thing, I’ll post it here this evening.

Total Fiction Words Composed in 2008: 188,332

• 19:30 I love Chooka rain boots! www.chookaboot.com/rainboots1.html #
• 23:41 Who says a woman can't get a man drunk and take advantage of him? :) #

Yesterday I did Emerald City Comic Con; but alas, I will not be attending Day Two. I have deadlines which must be addressed, and besides — my phone number has been dispersed like so many dandelion seeds, so if anyone wants to tear up the town after convention hours, I’m easy to find. For now, I have a book to finish reading, a review to write, and two small articles to tackle.

Yes, I’m blogging instead. I know.

So yesterday was damn-near perfect. I arrived at the convention floor fairly early, and immediately commenced Internet Bingo … which involved a series of text messages back and forth between the pre-approved Yeah Let’s Totally Meet Up or Something crew and standing in a few lines. In this manner, I was able to visit briefly with Ed, a man with a most excellent hat, and Joanne, who had promised to grievously abuse my phone number.

I roamed around with Joanne and her boyfriend Mark for awhile, including a jaunt through a line to see Jamie Barber; but it cost $25 to have him sign his name on anything, so I bowed out of that queue. Unless he was signing his name on a check made out to me for $25, I couldn’t see the point.*

Likewise, Julie Bentz was in attendance, and I felt like a total dumbass when I realized that she was both Rita on Dexter and Darla on Buffy/Angel. How I never made that connection (since I’m a fan of both franchises) I have no earthly idea. I saw her when she was pretty much alone, and I kind of wanted to approach her and do a little “OH HAI! You’re really great!” … but I got the impression that maybe she wasn’t feeling well, so I didn’t want to bother her.

And, of course, I waited my turn to chat up Wil. He and I have a few friends in common, and we’d exchanged a brief comment or two here and there online, so I figured it wouldn’t be the weirdest of all possible things if I just waited through the crowds and said something awkward like, “Erm, I believe we’ve met on the internets.” And then I assumed he’d make a politely confused face and say, “Oh yes. Miss …um … well, it’s quite nice to meet you. Gosh, look at that line. Well, moving right along … ”

But instead, I got a marvelous warm welcome that revealed he knew who I was(?!) he’d read my books(!?!) and Jesus H. Christ in a little red hat, he’s been known to read this blog(!?!?!). Only sheer astonishment prevented me from doing a little bootydance right there in front of God and everybody. And as if these revelations weren’t enough to make my afternoon, he was warm and friendly and funny, too.

I hope he doesn’t read this and conclude that he’s narrowly escaped from a fangirlish freak-out or anything. It’s not like that; I was just so thoroughly charmed to learn that he was every bit as pleasant as I’d been promised. It really did make my day.**

Following this delightful development, I left the premises in search of lunch. I moseyed over to Pacific Place (because it was close and I am lazy), and there I visited with Psynde — who was rocking out in the Barnes & Noble. She made me sign books on my day off, that tricky little tyrant! But she was so much fun to chat with that I’m prepared to forgive her, just this once. And maybe next time. We shall see.***

Later, my husband appeared and together the pair of us wandered the convention floor in search of schwag and toys. This incarnation of ECCC was much bigger than the year before last — which was the last time I attended — and I was pleased with the offerings. But eventually we called the convention “Done” and went back home, where we ate chips and salsa, goofed off on the internet, watched TV, and awaited further instruction from the out-of-towners.

Further instruction came around 6:30 when Wil called about drinks and supper. Down at the Tap House we met up with him, and Joanna and Mark again, plus Bill and Henrietta. The Tap House was crowded and loud, but posh in an odd way that included Wheel of Fortune being played on very expensive TVs over a glorious glass-and-brass bar … which is to say, it was peculiarly swank. I dug it. The beer selection featured an assortment of tasty flavored ciders (SCORE), and the food was good and reasonably quick.

It would be no exaggeration to say that copious geekery did fill the next few hours.

In case I haven’t said so lately, sometimes I feel like I really am the luckiest girl in the world. I love these events, and I feel deeply privileged to be even the most minor, peripheral part of this convention community. The weekends may wear me out, but they make me so ridiculously damn happy that Lord willing and the creek don’t rise, I’ll be attending ’till I’m old and gray.

It took me long enough, but I finally found my tribe; and all omens to the contrary, it turns out that we’re all right after all.

• 12:18 Thank god for same-day delivery. May our parents never find out that we're not nearly as organized as they brought us up to be. :) #