E-book with an e-story by e-me!

You've probably been thinking, "That rabbit hasn't been around complaining, so things must be going great for her." And you know, there is at least one significant piece of evidence pointing to YES!

A dear friend looped me in on a call for submissions earlier this year, and the exceedingly fortunate result is that I have a story in an anthology. It's an e-book anthology called Puzzle Box. Behold!

Puzzle Box is packed with all kinds of different stories, most of them speculative fiction of some stripe. There are 11 stories, which I happen to think is a pretty good deal for $4. In fact, if you buy the mobi/ePub/HTML bundle directly from the editor, you get another anthology, to the tune of another seven stories. 18 stories for four bucks is a crazy-good deal (assuming they're good, and I think they are).

This is a small publisher taking a chance on me, so if you read the anthology and like it, I would really appreciate it if you'd spread the word. It doesn't have any reviews up at Amazon or Goodreads yet, although there are entries for both. Or tell a friend.

Of course, enjoying it in silence is perfectly okay, too.


My Olympic fever runs about 99 degrees even....

...but I've been watching a bit anyway. Having grown up surrounded by hockey players, I was not inclined to watch any team sports played on ice. Even speed skating doesn't interest me that much. But then I happened across curling, and I thought it was really interesting.

There's a lot to like about curling, even for someone who doesn't know all the rules. Pretty much every turn results in something happening that could change the score. Every player takes a turn at every task. The players' faces are visible. Basically, it banishes everything that bores me about hockey. It's a lot of fun to watch.

Sweety and I watched a bit of the men's curling last night. We were a bit bummed that the last-place match was the one showing live (probably because the US team was in it), but it was still fun to watch.

Me: Wow. Xioming Xu looks like a young Chow Yun-Fat.
Sweety: Yes, he does. And he looks like somebody else, too. Somebody Caucasian. I can't put my finger on it.
Me (thinking hard): Enver Gjokaj?
Sweety: Maybe a little. But that's not who I'm thinking.
We watch for a while. Then we see Mr. Xu yell, "Whoa!"
Sweety: YES.
Me: This man is like a cross between Chow Yun-Fat and David Tennant.
Sweety: This will make him very popular with a certain type of geek woman.

I believe that that type is "women who read my LJ."

[edited with better photos; Xu is on the right in the two-person photo]

A treat for all my yarn-happy friends: Miss Eiderdown's Stocking

Kate Godfrey's charming and sweet Christmas story "Miss Eiderdown's Stocking" is now available as a two-part radio play. The first part of the play is already live at KnitPick and as a PDF at It's free, and you don't have to sign up for anything to read or listen.

I've had the good fortune to read the entire thing, and it makes me sniffle. In a good way, though, one that the "medicinal yarn" of the story couldn't cure. It has ghosts, urchins, and knitting...what's not to love?

My only hope is that the Eiderdown/Entwhistle team will eventually discover crochet.

Oven Research

Last Friday, we had an oil spill in the oven. Sweety and I cleaned it out, but we saw how much crud was burned on to the oven and decided to run a cleaning cycle for the first time.

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Obnoxious casting call

I haven't posted a press release in a long time. I have no idea how I got on the list for this one. It takes up a lot of room, so I'm snipping it liberally. Yes, it's real: I'm sure they released in on April 2 on purpose. The full Web site is at .


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In the interest of preventing waste, I warn you off bad (but supposedly ecologically sound) products

For a while now--probably since I first heard about the clams on Prozac problems--I've been trying to use health/beauty products that are better for the health and beauty of the the planet my children will someday inherit. (Scratch that. Those kids are hardly meek.) 

Some easy replacements have been excellent; some have even made me wonder if the original solutions were the problems. For instance, it seems that my lips grow less chapped when I use a beeswax lip balm than a petroleum-based one. Unscented scrubs, creams, and lotions often feel better on my skin, and they let me enjoy the scents that inevitably accompany other products.

But there have been a few things here and there that have been failures. One that springs to mind is the "botanical" facial toner that was mostly alcohol--to preserve the natural ingredients, no doubt--which stung my skin and made me smell like Everclear. That one's easy though; basic reading skills at the store would have saved me that one. Others are less obvious. Rather than let you buy or make these products yourself, I share my own experiences and idiocy with you. If you don't toss out a half-full tube or jar, the world is better off, right? Right.

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This is already long, so I'll spare you my next product failure. If anyone finds this remotely amusing, I will humiliate myself further soon--not just for you, but for the good of the planet.

(Edited for clarity's sake.)


Ror-shach! Baby, Ror-shach!

Sweety and I saw the Rorschach profile on Heroes (complete with a plug that calls Rorschach, Dr. Manhattan, Silk Spectre II et al "The Watchmen," like it's a team name). Although we liked most of what we saw of Rorschach, I was disappointed to hear all the characters say "Ror-shack." I've always said "Ror-shock," and given the "raw shark" joke in the book, that seems correct to me.

I mentioned it to Sweety, who said, "Oh, me too. But doesn't it make you want to sing 'Ror-shack! Baby Ror-shack!' to the tune of 'Love Shack'?"

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I almost went with a version that kept more of the original text and focused on his sexual repression, but this stuff scanned more easily. Someone better at filking could probably work in the dog, too. But hey, at least it's up in time for the advance screening now.

May Alan Moore, David Gibbons, and the B-52s forgive me.