See anything that you’d read?
At Norwescon, I sat in a panel assembled to answer a pretty simple question: What benefit can writers get from leaving their caves? More the pity then that the panelists spent more time discussing how introverted they were, how much benefit they get from staying in their caves, and how the light and the outside world exhausts them.
Okay. I get it. You’re a writer. The myth and legend of solitary creation has so captivated you that you’ve dedicated your very life to getting as little human contact as possible. As one panelist put it, “If you aren’t getting something out of your writing, enjoying the very task, then why would you be there?”
Sure. But does forced solitude follow that? I like talking to people. I like capturing the spirit of how people are. I like social gatherings, time with friends, shit, time with strangers. Do I have to offer that up on an altar just cuz some late 19th early 20th century drunks pooled in the societal expectation griddle and congealed like thrice-cooked-and-rancid sausage fat? Does every other writer have to be battered and cooked in that shit? Continue reading
I promised I’d write a more serious update about my Emerald City Comicon experience, rather than a fictionalized version, and although I got distracted, I did promise. Continue reading
Yesterday, I braved the murky waters of Emerald City Comicon. I was there for the panels. I was there for the amazing booths and exhibitions. I was there to catch up with friends. And I was there to unmask at least a portion of the heinous “fake geeks” that have inundated our fair geekdoms of late.
So I dressed up as The Dresden Files’ Harry Dresden, the better to blend with Con’s crowds, and began my undercover operation.
Today, I bring you the shocking footage of real fake geeks, fake geeking for all to see. (note: due to a lack of footage, some cartoon images may be used as stand-ins) Continue reading
This article came across my feed today, from a magazine that usually does a pretty good job of things.
I couldn’t help myself. I broke my rule of arguing with strangers on the internet in order to post this diatribe on the Facebook post:
This is horrifying, more like reading Ayn Rand than your typical U.S. Republican speech.
So the rich “inherit” the drive of their parents? What about the political, social, and financial capital that separates the elite from the poor, even in an egalitarian society such as Sweden? What about the fact that a rich B-student in the U.S. can afford an unpaid internship while a poor A-student might have to work for minimum wage in order to mitigate the financial damage of an education? What about the fact that due to these circumstances, the rich B-student gets fast-track to Management, while the A-student may end up working retail after he gets out, because he has no elite connections? What about the fact that the elite have the financial reserves to take outsize risks, safe in the knowledge that however hard they screw it up, they and their family will assuredly not starve.
The world is not an equal place, and Economists deal with the real world. That’s why we’re not philosophers or moralizers. Leave biased, incorrect, and unscientific ideology to them. We’ve got dismal science to do.
While I’m not at all alone in this assessment, I’d like to expand that last paragraph. Continue reading
I have no words. Besides these ones. And the blog title.
And these ones down here.
Modern musicians only wish that they could make music videos this awesome. This is Evil Dead in music video form. I mean in the cheesy-become-awesome sense, not in some other sense!
If we’re talking about actually Evil Dead in music video form, I’ve seen that too:
Last September, I took an SDET job — what was I thinking?
In case you’ve no clue whatsoever what that acronym means (I certainly didn’t three years ago), an SDET (Software Development Engineer in Test) is a person who writes code that tests code. An STE (Software Test Engineer) is a person who tests code either manually or through scripts that someone else has authored. Okay? Got context? GO!
I guess I was thinking that when I dabbled in test automation at Wizards of the Coast, I’d proven that my experiences with code in college were a fluke, and I might actually enjoy the whole programming thing.
Nope. Continue reading
So I was listening to this in the car today…
…And I thought, “Who is this guy?”
Most critics of Centerfold take a feminist slant, focusing on notions of male possessiveness and the commoditization of the female body.
Not me. I thought, “Have I met this guy? What’s he look like? What’s he like?” Continue reading
1 year 4 months ago, my first novel-length manuscript burned me out. Ever since, writing fiction just churned me up, spawning anxiety and doubt instead of stories I enjoyed.
Two days ago, Lauren smooshed the boil under her verbal thumb ’til it all gooshed out — starting by mentioning that I hadn’t ever let her read the manuscript.
“Of course I haven’t,” I replied. “It’s not done.”
“A year and four months is an awful long break.”
I blustered some tripe about other projects, that I’d learned a lot of lessons, you know, the pretentious writer yarn. But my newer long-form projects caught the same plague, until I doubted if I’d ever write fiction that’s actually good. So instead of continuing down that defeated line of argument, I switched to listing all the ways the plague blemished my baby.
After I’d finished, she just said, “Sounds like you know what’s wrong.”
My eardrums are still aching from the implicit “so fix it!” But before I do just that, here’s my ugly baby list so I can avoid making another one. Continue reading