Blogger isn’t playing nice for me today, so this will be brief. Sort of an unfilled (or unfulfilled?) Filler Friday. Maybe.
Anyway, we are excited to announce that next week (Tuesday or Wednesday; come back and see!) we’ll have a fabulous Guest Post written by author Alexandra MacKenzie, whose book “Immortal Quest: The Trouble With Mages” has been out for a couple of months and I don’t know why you haven’t bought a copy already. Yes, a Guest Post! It’s fab (I’ve already read it so I know).
Also, Michelle has been writing an excellent series of posts on her personal blog about small publishers, and you should go check it out if you haven’t been reading along. Go! Read!
Also, I have finally revised my way into the third act of my WIP Cocke & Bull and I must say, revisions are where the writing actually happens, and actual writing is actually hard and this week has been exhausting. I can’t wait for the weekend. Tomorrow evening Mighty Reader and I are going to a play (Shakespeare’s “Cymbeline” which isn’t one of his best works, but it hardly ever gets staged so why would we miss it?) and this weekend—aside from taking down Christmas lights at long last—I plan to finish one of the many many books I’m currently reading. I don’t know which one yet.
Hey, this has been all about me except for those short passages that have not. So let’s have something about you: Which dead author would you bring back to life if you could, and why? I would pick Proust, because a year or so ago when Mighty Reader finished volume seven of “Remembrances of Things Past,” she began to suffer an incurable and inconsolable malaise at the realization that there was no more Proust in all the world to be read. I don’t like to see Mighty Reader suffering from a malaise, so I’d chain Marcel to his desk in that cork-lined room of his and get him to write a couple more volumes. I might also bring back Laurence Sterne so he could finish “Tristram Shandy.” You?
Um...Dickens...no, I mean Tolstoy! Although Proust is a good choice too. He just seems so high maintenance. Mr. Bailey, you wouldn't be able to let Marcel play with your pig named Misery. Or, I guess in this case the pig would be named A la recherche du temps perdu. Maybe you could call it Cherchy, or Perdu?
ReplyDeleteI've been reading Murakami's The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle and after my second night of insomnia this week I got to a REALLY good part.
Big D: Tolstoy? Who's he?
ReplyDeleteI think Proust would rather have a kitten named Albertine than a pig named Misery. Anyway, he'd do what I told him to do, dammit. Remembrances of pigs past.
The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle is high on my "to be read" list. After all the books that are higher on the list, of course.
Hmm, I think I'd bring back Kate Chopin. She is fascinating to me, and quite the rebel of her time in the writing world.
ReplyDeleteAlso, I think THIRDS should be the book you finish. Just sayin'.
I'd bring back Hemingway, but when he was younger and at his peak. (The first one. Not the second one that produced The Old Man and the Sea.)
ReplyDeleteThen I'd go on safari with him. He could go out and shoot animals and I'd stay back in the tent reading and sipping martinis. FTW.
Now I want to see a pig dipped into a spoonful of tea. Thanks a lot, Bailey. That will take me all morning to find.
ReplyDeleteSimon, I knew martinis had to be in there somewhere. :)
ReplyDeleteI'd have to bring back Mark Twain. I would love to hear his opinions on the recent editing of Huck Finn.
ReplyDeleteAlso, I've been reading reports of someone going around Seattle in a superhero costume and battling crime. I think Scott's claims to be revising is just an alibi and I applaud him for his efforts in making his city a better place.
Rick, Cocke & Bull isn't even a real book. Sorry, Scott, I couldn't keep your secret anymore.
ReplyDeleteDarn, the cover is blown. Scott, you'd better change that superhero outfit. And no more spandex.
ReplyDeleteAnd Michelle, don't think you're fooling anyone either. We notice the decrease in crime in Utah as well. Monarch is actually autobiographical, isn't it?
ReplyDeleteYes, I am really male. I am really 50 years old, too, and have worked as a CIA officer for over 30 years. Look out, Malasarn. I know those black market schemes you have going...
ReplyDeleteOf course I would be the supervillain! Thanks a lot, Michelle. Well, then I'm claiming Rick and Simon for my team. I'll take Tara Maya and Nevets too.
ReplyDeleteDamn, you're getting all the awesome people!!!!
ReplyDeleteEvil awesome. That's how we roll.
ReplyDeleteI will win in the end. You read Monarch.
ReplyDeleteHa ha! Well, you read Bread.
ReplyDeleteMichelle: We can kick Team Malasarn's evil ass. Good always triumphs. Always, Malasarn. You Have Been Warned.
ReplyDeleteScott, yes. Good Trumps.
ReplyDeleteGood only triumphs in the END. We're stuck in the middle of things.
ReplyDeleteWhere the Fun is...!
ReplyDeleteYes, well, for now you have the upper hand. But only for now. Only for now.
ReplyDeleteAnd every time you think you're nearing the end, I'm going to throw in a flashback! Mwa ha ha!
ReplyDeleteNO FLASHBACKS!!! Those are against The Rules. *shudders*
ReplyDeleteI will delete your flashback with my Big Red Pen!
ReplyDeleteAnd so the war begins. Malasarn, where is your backup?
ReplyDeleteYour evil shoes will get stuck in my layers of symbolism and you won't be able to flee the scene of the crime.
ReplyDeleteOur foreshadowing will block out the sun; you will stumble blindly, right into our trap!
ReplyDeleteWe will cast you into your own plotholes!
ReplyDeleteYes, but back when I was ten, I predicted this would happen, and so I built in springs in my shoes to help me jump out of trouble! I also told my past self to hide sunglasses in my pockets!
ReplyDeleteMichelle, I think my back up is drinking martinis.
Pwned, Malasarn. Pwned.
ReplyDeleteYou will get stuck in the slimy stickiness of all your own alliteration
ReplyDeleteMartinis? Damn. Why do the bad guys get to have more fun?
ReplyDeleteI think we scared Team Malasarn off. Phew.
ReplyDeleteWe will shoot you with Chekhov's gun; you will trip on your own Tolstoy! Foiled by your own foil characters! Ouch!
ReplyDeleteOkay, I can stop now. We win!
ReplyDeleteYou may tell a good story, but you better show me what you got! I'm preparing my eel bombs delivered by spy monarchs. That's right, all those beautiful little monarchs have been working for me all along!
ReplyDeleteFridays are the bestest.
ReplyDeleteWell, crap.
ReplyDeleteCan you imagine the three of us in the same room? That's a scary thought...
ReplyDeleteYour forces of good may have won this round, but you're in for some deep shit in the sequel. This is a series, you know.
ReplyDeleteBTW, Scott...I am your father.
boo-ya!
ReplyDeleteBy the end of the series, Good Wins. There is no arguing over this point. *ahem*
ReplyDeleteI'd wait till after I died and bring myself back, 'cause that's how I am.
ReplyDeleteRick: You owe me 48 years worth of allowance, then. Fork it over, Papa.
ReplyDeleteDomey: The eels are my double-agents, just as the monarchs work for Michelle! Hoisted by your own petard, sirrah. (We warned you not to wear your petard with that shirt, didn't we?)
Evil awesome. That's how we roll.
ReplyDeleteI'm proud to be part of that.
Also, evil does win, because my student worker just brought me homemade chocolate chip cookies.
ReplyDeleteMichelle, we will rise again in the prequels. You can't escape the dues ex machina.
ReplyDeleteNevets: You are wrong! Chocolate chip cookies are filled with love, which is a...power of good. The cookies will...counteract the evil poison in your evil blood and turn it to good...and...stuff. Anyway, good wins!
ReplyDeleteDrats, I do feel the evil mellowing. Curse these cookies! I must throw them into the cracks at Mount Doom.
ReplyDeleteI can't pay you Scott. Some dude in a leotard just jacked three of my henchmen in the middle of a heist. The coffers are empty.
ReplyDeleteNevets, you should send those cookies to me right away. I will dispose of them!
ReplyDeleteEvil Rick Daley: Your deus ex machina will become entangled in our plot twists and its fundabulatory mechanisms will get all conscribitious, rendering it harmless to us and useless to you! FTW!
ReplyDelete@Domey - I'm sending on the back of ants!
ReplyDeleteEvil Domey Malasarn: I point out that this is how it goes bad for evil, when the Big Boss starts betraying his own henchmen. Days = numbered, Evil Malasarn. Numbered indeed.
ReplyDeleteDrat. I would have gotten away with it if it weren't for those meddling kids.
ReplyDeleteScott = Shaggy?
ReplyDelete--Insert flashback here--
ReplyDeleteEvil Nevets: We will squash your army of ants like...like ants, dammit!
ReplyDeleteFine. Similes are your weapon, Evil Gang. You've won this round, but it's not over until the end, where good wins. As I remind you.
@Nevets: if nothing else he qualifies as a meddling kid due to the whole I am your father thing.
ReplyDeleteScott, stop thinking about some imaginary enemy you're trying to vanquish and just go write, damnit!
ReplyDeleteNevets! You've stolen the Just right, Damnit! spell! Hoorah! Evil evil hoorah!
ReplyDeleteThat's great kid; don't get cocky. If you strike me down, I will only become more powerful than you can imagine.
ReplyDeleteThen I won't imagine anything! Hah!
ReplyDeleteYou fall into my trap! Lack of imagination always leads to evil fatally underestimating good!
ReplyDeleteI thought the fatal flaw was always announcing our evil plans, which we're not doing.
ReplyDeleteNo fair. Scott used the paradoxical-oxymoronic-juxtapositionator to trick us. Just like in Superman II. I knew he had a secret identity.
ReplyDeleteAha! But the fatal flaw of the good is believing the words of the evil and thereby becoming overconfident and secure in their circumstances.
ReplyDeleteHere's a hint: evil lies.
Superman II sucked!
ReplyDeleteAt some point you'll think you've got us cornered and then you'll monologue about how cool you are and give away all your plans that you think we won't be alive to see and then, Evil Malasarn, Oh Then.
ReplyDeleteAt some point, the Carebear army will come swarming in and smother all of you Evil folks with hugs and kisses and possibly brownies and cups of warm milk. There may be pillows and blankets. You can't beat the Carebear army. You just can't.
ReplyDeleteDouglas Adams. I want to read more about Dirk Gently.
ReplyDeleteI was Tenderheart Bear for Halloween in the first grade. And I once wrote a story about a senile eighty-something year old going to a Halloween costume as Tenderheart Bear.
ReplyDeleteLook! A serious comment. Right there!
ReplyDeleteSuperman II sucked!
ReplyDeleteTHIS
Also:
You can't beat the Carebear army. You just can't.
I'll see your Carebear army and raise you an army of Smurfs under a Gargamel mind-control spell.
@Martin - That would be fantastic. Also, thanks for being brave enough to chime in with a legit thought amidst the keruffle.
ReplyDelete(That's the word of the day, thanks to Simon.)
Evil Nevets: Oh, smurfs. You do amuse me, really you do. But smurfs are like 2" tall and Carebears are much larger and will only roll around on your mind-controlled smurfs while frolicking about, squashing your tiny army. Terribly sad and tragic for the smurfs, it's true, but to make an omelette, you've got to break a few tiny animated...whatever. Carebears totally beat smurfs.
ReplyDeleteMartin: Excellent choice. More holistic detection!
Smurfs are three apples high, Scott. Everyone knows that. Except for Stilt Smurf, who is sometimes six apples high.
ReplyDeleteAlso, Painter Smurf can easily paint the Carebears' tummy symbols, thereby rendering your army seless for anything but hugging. Ooooo. Hugging.
ReplyDeleteHuggy is nothing against Brainy Smurf.
And don't forget Whoop-ass Smurf!
ReplyDeleteEvil Domey: Evil lies. It is well known that evil smurfs lie about their height in order to intimidate their opponents. Michelle, the Carebears and I are not intimidated by your apple-high henchcreatures. We have brownies, warm milk, blankets and pillows. What have you got? Smurfs and flashbacks. Oh, evil, see what you get for not using your imagination?
ReplyDelete"smurf" is the sound Evil makes when the cuffs go on and Evil is hauled off to the high-security prison.
ReplyDeleteDomey, Superman II did not suck. You are evil incarnate. And you totally beat me to the three-apple punch.
ReplyDeleteI'm going to transmogrify the Carebear army into I-Don't-Carebears.
Okay, I admit I don't remember which one Superman II is.
ReplyDeleteEvil Rick: See? Evil begins to fight against itself. Evil divided against itself won't stand for that, etc.
ReplyDeleteAnyway, the transmogrify ray won't get through the rainbow.
Scott, your reign of Carebear terror reveals the dark core that lies at the heart of all good people. Shed the light and come over.
ReplyDeleteJust be yourself. When you try to be something else, you're just doing yourself and everyone else a disservice.
Evil divided by evil is one, which is unity.
ReplyDeleteEvil Nevets: That's easy for you to say, because you're evil. The Carebears coming with brownies and pillows would only be considered terror by evil, who oppose all things huggy and warm and nice. You see a dark core where I haven't got one, sir. Oh, evil, I cry for you. Big, fat, Carebeary tears of empathy and heartfelt emotion. Have a brownie and a blanket. You'll feel better about yourself and everyone else, too.
ReplyDeleteIs there gin in the brownies?
ReplyDeleteGin is another form of love. Love conquers evil. Have a cocktail.
ReplyDeleteEvil Rick: Evil plus evil plus evil equals 3, which is divisible by one, which is a house that cannot stand, so you must lay down your arms, evil.
ReplyDeleteThis agent of good is going to lunch. Don't destroy the universe while I'm away.
ReplyDeleteAway with you and your junipery bursts of love.
ReplyDeleteI will resist. I will stay strong. Must only drink. Unsweetened lemonade. Spoiled milk. Rusty water.
I will not lay down my arms. It's just a flesh wound.
ReplyDeleteDomey- Superman II is the one where Superman gives up his powers to marry Lois, and General Zod and his crew break out of the interstellar mirror and kick ass while Superman is mortal. Then Superman uses the paradoxical-oxymoronic-juxtapositionator to trick Zod et al. and take away their powers while regaining his.
But to be fair, III, IV, and V totally sucked.
To be fair, I thought all the Superman movies were pretty much snooze fests.
ReplyDeleteDangerous comment section!!
ReplyDeleteTo the post - Scott, chances are we're in the same town since I have Cymbeline on the social calendar next Thurs. Here's hoping it's good! And as for writers - if we get to resurrect only one person, let's go super old so we can learn some probably unexpected history/culture. My vote: Sappho.
Carrie: Yes, let's hope it's a good show. Have you seen their "Hamlet?" It's a fine production.
ReplyDeleteGood choice on Sappho. During lunch I was thinking maybe Aristophanes or Virgil. I'm sure Virgil had more to say.
If we're going for old, why didn't anyone pick Homer?
ReplyDeleteD'oh!
Because there's a good chance Homer might not actually exist :) And I think the life of a female poet might be more interesting ... but of course, we can each pick our own favorites! And Scott - no, haven't seen their Hamlet. I've only been attending for about 3 years. It'd be lovely to see it soon!
ReplyDeleteHomer Simpson did not write the Odyssey. Not enough research has been done to determine how James Joyce felt about donuts.
ReplyDeleteFirst, I would pick Hemmingway because we could have a drink together and talk about The Big Two Hearted River and then I would bring back Dorothy Parker because she was such a wit and then I would bring back John Gardner and sit in the front row.
ReplyDeleteI don't know if Hemingway or Parker would want to come back, but I'm totally with you on John Gardner.
ReplyDelete