not a cowboy

poem: The Journey of the Magi

Mon, 04 Jan 2010 12:28:47 GMT

"A cold coming we had of it,
Just the worst time of the year
For a journey, and such a long journey:
The was deep and the weather sharp,
The very dead of winter."
And the camels galled, sore-footed, refractory,
Lying down in the melting snow.
There were times we regretted
The summer palaces on slopes, the terraces,
And the silken girls bringing sherbet.
Then the camel men cursing and grumbling
And running away, and wanting their liquor and women,
And the night-fires gong out, and the lack of shelters,
And the cities hostile and the towns unfriendly
And the villages dirty, and charging high prices:
A hard time we had of it.
At the end we preferred to travel all night,
Sleeping in snatches,
With the voices singing in our ears, saying
That this was all folly.

Then at dawn we came down to a temperate valley,
Wet, below the snow line, smelling of vegetation;
With a running stream and a water-mill beating the darkness,
And three trees on the low sky,
And an old white horse galloped away in the meadow.
Then we came to a tavern with vine-leaves over the lintel,
Six hands at an open door dicing for pieces of silver,
And feet kicking the empty wine-skins.
But there was no information, and so we continued
And arrived at evening, not a moment too soon
Finding the place; it was (you may say) satisfactory.

All this was a long time ago, I remember,
And I would do it again, but set down
This set down
This: were we lead all that way for
Birth or Death? There was a Birth, certainly,
We had evidence and no doubt. I have seen birth and death,
But had thought they were different; this Birth was
Hard and bitter agony for us, like Death, our death.
We returned to our places, these Kingdoms,
But no longer at ease here, in the old dispensation,
With an alien people clutching their gods.
I should be glad of another death.

T.S. Eliot

second sunday after christmas

Sun, 03 Jan 2010 13:07:12 GMT

h/t the anchoress

hey, it's the future!

Sat, 02 Jan 2010 16:58:11 GMT

View Poll: #1506285

Seriously, where is all the nifty stuff they said we'd have by now?

Also, tell me your favorite story from the past year and I'll write . . . something. Just for you.

2009 on paper

Sat, 02 Jan 2010 04:20:48 GMT

2007 2008

I think I organize this differently each year. Let's do it chronologically this time, with first sentences instead of summaries. Turns out I wrote more than I thought I had, though not as much as I would have liked.

January
Masks. The first masked hero showed up in 1924, in the then-backwater city of New New Amsterdam (which had been named so mostly as a joke). [original]

February
5 things Ronon doesn't talk about. Before everything went to fire and wraith, Ronon toyed with the possibility of becoming a tax accountant. [sga]
Iguana Love (like puppy love, but larger and spikier). Later, Rodney tried to claim that the iguana attempted to eat him, but really, all it did was flick out its tongue. [sga]
5 times John Sheppard cried. At his mother’s funeral, although he does it in absolute silence and would vehemently deny it if anyone noticed. [sga]

March
5 ways Stargate: Atlantis could have gone. (Actually, this is more a series of premises than fiction, but I'm including it for completeness and also I didn't write anything else in March.) [sga]

April
5 ways Mike's life is different since he got "burned". He’d learned how not to dream while on a mission. [burn notice]
I am a nautilus reversed. Poetry!
Prometheus In Stasis. He shifts his wrists beneath the chains, moves them slowly, gently, in motions practiced and perfected, testing strength here and friction there, each sun-heated link caressing his skin like a burning coal. [greek myth]
5 books on Bruce Wayne's bedside table. The Art of War by Sun-Tzu. (Because Gotham is a war, and Batman is both general and army.) [batman]

May
That March With Muffled Drum. Peter will not grow up, and Wendy will not so cripple herself to stay with him. [peter pan]
5 Earth customs Vala can't understand. Birthday candles. [sg-1]
interstitial from Wrought Iron's Men of Might no. 4. Caption: "Really, there wasn't much of a choice." [original]

June
Do not let this paralyze you. Poem!
Loss. It strikes him most frequently at parties or at church, when he's tired and feels it's time to go. [original]
from the words of Yuma son of Magen of the Athosians. Put me in a cage and lock the door: I will beat myself against the bars until I bleed, and bite your fingers even if they come to free me. [sga; very short]

July
Things Already Seen (part one; locked). Four steps into Atlantis (alien city, alien world, he reminds himself, and then wishes he hadn’t, because they’re not the only things that are alien), the lights come on—the city comes on, and suddenly he’s not alone in his head anymore. [sga]
Did you mean: asdfjlk. Time spent translating carvings on stone arch encountered on PX-3042: 178 minutes [sga]
Most Illogical. Spock regarded the tricorder as he might a being who insisted that Terran pigs could indeed fly unassisted, the planet’s satellite was in fact made of green cheese, and the Enterprise was actually a four inch long model made out of plastic. [star trek/winnie the pooh]
10 sentences on request. SGA, Peter Pan, Labyrinth
Nepenthe. “Why don’t you meditate?” Teer asks one morning, gently incurious. [sga]

August
Packing. At some point, usually about fifteen minutes in, there came a point of utter despair and a sense of great futility: the car had become one of those horrific 3-D puzzles that can't be solved because the pieces would have to pass through each other to produce the desired shape and normal people just can't make that happen, and everyone seemed content to simply stand around and comment on this fact instead of doing something about it. [original]
The Song of the Bandersnatch, or, "Laugh," Said the Snail: the Story of Three Children and a Rabbit. Prologue. In which very little is said. [original; currently just table of contents]
Vroom Vroom. “I like things that go more than 200 miles an hour,” John says when Teyla first meets him: seeming nonsense, though she ignores that because she likes his smile, which pretends to be false but isn’t. [sga]

September
Envy. “I don’t understand it,” Roland said, almost petulant, with a shove that sent his laptop sliding across the table, destroying Orlando’s piles of paperwork as it went. [the song of roland]
An Old Joke. To be Satedan is to be taller, faster, stronger. [sga]
5 things: John kissed Rodney, now what? Apparently, not even a kiss was enough to get Rodney to shut up, because the guy’s mouth was still moving and he was making these little mmphing noises. [sga]

October
5 things I love about John Sheppard in Things Already Seen. He doesn't give up, break down, or go crazy when he finds himself inexplicably a year in his past. [sga]
Scrabble. "'Jezebel.' Really?" [burn notice? original? idk]
5 ways different characters deal with ill-health. Brucie plays it up; Batman plays it down. [batman; sga; peter pan; song of roland]
5 people Sumner wanted to disbelieve but couldn't. The doctors, first when they said Janice could never have children, later when they said she had six months to live. [sga]

November
5 things that happen at some point in Things Already Seen. "Well, once there was this kid named Bruce whose father was a healer, although his father and grandfather had been wealthy traders." [sga]
Elizabeth in Amber. She begins by giving herself half a day awake for every eternity spent dreaming, to explore the city, sift through the uncharted territories of the databases. [sga]
I am Bulletproof. If asked, Rodney will admit that the Nomex survival-suit makes sense (and the memory cloth is a brilliant excuse for having a cape). [sga]
Perfect Fit. He should’ve been more freaked out about being (basically) nothing more than a walking key for the expedition—should’ve been, but at the time he was mostly trying to pretend this didn’t suddenly mean his mom was an alien. [sga]
5 conversations that didn't make it onto paper. "You're not supposed to eat the flowers, you know." [original]
Rabid, face-eating Spindley-Dromes! (parts one and two). "It's a cupcake, Ronon." [sga]
Things Already Seen (part two; locked). ‘It will be dark soon’, only in John’s ears it rings as ‘The wraith are coming’, because they’d never determined what exactly had caused the original raid on Athos—whether it was mere bad luck, or the unintentional activation of Teyla’s necklace. [sga]

December
5 completely unconnected bits of conversation overheard in Atlantis. "Did a cupcake really try to eat Colonel Sheppard's face?" [sga]
this is the bottom of the year. Poetry!
While Shepherds Watched. It comes like the ending of the world: the sky splits open---open, so that the things behind the stars are visible. [bible]
Outside a Dog/Inside a Dog. It’s only because of the cold, Angua tells herself, and then wonders why—they’re alone on a stakeout that almost certainly won’t come up with anything and she’s currently sporting four legs and a whole lot of fur. [discworld]
A is For. Sometimes, late at night, when he can’t sleep, he lists them all: flying, glowy squid-thing (and really, who decided to call them ‘drones’? Very lame). [sga]
Hi-Ho Sneezy, Away! “You never rode anything on Sateda?” John asked, shifting slightly in the saddle so that he was better balanced. [sga]
5 versions of John Sheppard. His father (Patrick) is rich, his little brother is named Dave, and their mother is never spoken of. [sga]

*

Patterns? Well, SGA and John Sheppard are still pretty obviously my one true love. Lots of drabbles, thanks to gen_drabble. Some 5 things, although there are still quite a few sitting unfinished on my computer. No new huge stories to worry about, so that's nice. Now I just need to finish all the various things I started in previous years.

The main goal for 2010 is to finish Things Already Seen. I really want to get that finished by summertime. And then to follow that up with various shorter works that just need a few hours of concentrated writing to be done. Generally, to write more regularly, frequently, and prolifically.

Easy-peasy.

5 versions of john sheppard

Thu, 31 Dec 2009 16:32:34 GMT

1. canon

His father (Patrick) is rich, his little brother is named Dave, and their mother is never spoken of. He knows how to ride because he jumped when he was young, on horses that made his competitors cry, although he hated ever moment of it except those few spent in flight over barriers designed to fall down if touched.

He joins the Air Force because a) it means he won't ever wind up working under his father, and b) planes fly better than horses, although he occasionally misses the smell of hay and leather and horse sweat, the feel of a velvet nose pressed into his palm. (And c) there is, way back down deep, a part of him that needs to protect someone, something---he doesn't realize this until it's too late, though.)

He marries Nancy because everyone thinks he should, and she leaves him because she thought she was marrying the son of a wealthy father, not the soldier he becomes.

When he arrives in Atlantis, it feels like home, but he doesn't know why, or what it is that draws him so strongly to Chaya.

2. several steps to the right

His father (Rob) is USAF, just as John will be, and would spend his life in the air if not for his wife Ana, who is an orphan and generically foreign and just a bit strange---but beautiful and impossible not to love. She and John both sleep scarcely at all and spend the gray mornings telling stories to each other. When she dies, her husband breaks more than just a little; no matter how he tries to put the pieces back together for the sake of his only son, the cracks just gape wider every year. He winds up with early-onset Alzheimer's, and John spends the last two years of high school living with his grandparents, who own a farm (and a bad-tempered horse).

He joins the Air Force because he is very much his father's son, and there is nothing else he could have done and remained himself. His wife, Deb, comes from a very wealthy family and fell in love with him partly because he doesn't. And she leaves him because she cannot understand why he would rather have his feet in the air than on the ground with her. (In between, her father teaches John how to play golf---other than Deb, it's the only thing they have in common.)

Atlantis is home in the way his grandparents' farm almost was, and he knows exactly why. And when Helia and her ship of time-refugees show up, he refuses to simply hand over the keys and walk away.

(And if, perhaps, he found himself reliving that first, desperate year, he would tear himself to pieces in the attempt to make things go right.)

3. several steps to the right + magic and tattoos

There's magic and John can see the shape of any man-made thing's past, although he locks away that part of him so that he can fly. Deb gives him wings so that he can't fall, and then hates him for using them. Sometimes his shadow talks to him, sometimes it doesn't, but Atlantis is always the most beautiful thing he's ever seen. She works her way into his head, his bones, his heart.

He's still a soldier, would still choose the people in her over the city herself, if needs must, but he might never recover from making that sacrifice.

In this world, he manages to save Sumner, to turn Michael into an asset, a friend. He makes other mistakes, but not those.

(And if, perhaps, he found himself in a different world, where he had been a different man, he would give up anything to go home again.)

4. one more step to the right, no magic this time

John's father is in an accident---non-fatal, but career-ending---and so John spends his childhood on his grandparent's farm instead of on Air Force bases; his mother is very ill at one point, but recovers. When John goes to college, he majors in mathematics but plans on becoming a farmer. His roommate turns out to be a spazzy genius kid who's studying physics.

Deb never enters the picture: there's Lucy, instead, who suits him in all the ways Deb didn't, and is thrilled when he starts a sideline crop-dusting business.

Atlantis . . . well. I did mention that John's mother is still alive, didn't I?

5. um...

Well. There are a whole bunch of possibilities, just nothing I've written much of yet. There's the John that grows up in the Roman Empire, the John whose father lost everything when some financial bubble burst, the John who's entirely Alteran, not just mostly, etc.

Every now and then I read back through all the bits and pieces scattered through my notebooks and feel this odd mix of elation and despair.

it's snowing again!

Thu, 31 Dec 2009 13:19:19 GMT

at this point, we've probably had almost as much snow in two months as we usually have over the course of the entire season--if not more.

this makes me ridiculously happy.

word of the week: disparity

Wed, 30 Dec 2009 22:43:57 GMT

disparity
n. see below

what's not apparent from the picture is that the turtle got the little dude a gold ring (despite the little dude not have any fingers) and the little dude got the turtle a very large empty box (which the turtle's been wanting for a hideout for a while now).

poem: carol

Mon, 28 Dec 2009 15:50:02 GMT

The Christ Child lay on Mary's lap,
His hair was like a light.
(O weary, weary were the world,
But here is all aright.)

The Christ Child lay on Mary's breast,
His hair was like a star.
(O stern and cunning are the kings,
But here the true hearts are.)

The Christ Child lay on Mary's heart,
His hair was like a fire.
(O weary, weary is the world,
But here the world's desire.)

The Christ Child stood on Mary's knee,
His hair was like a crown,
And all the flowers looked up at Him
And all the stars looked down.

G.K. Chesterton

what, today's saturday? when did that happen?

Sat, 26 Dec 2009 21:54:14 GMT

Um. No poll for today. I'm currently pretty much completely disoriented, time-wise. Vacations always do that to me.

Christmas ficlets are still up for grabs, though. Leave as many requests/prompts as you want, and I'll write at least one of them. More, if I can manage it.

shouldn't you be opening presents or hanging out with your family or something?

Fri, 25 Dec 2009 12:52:18 GMT

and here's the real thing (by Straight No Chaser)

reviews: the "relatives are here so i don't have time to write more" edition

Wed, 23 Dec 2009 02:40:15 GMT

Gumby (now on Hulu!): ridiculous and awesome

White Christmas: overblown and ridiculous and awesome

England and Always: apparently Tolkien was crazy-awesome, and I want to be him when I grow up. Well, to build a world the way he did. Except I'm kind of lazy and easily distracted, so it probably won't happen.

The Starfish and the Spider: all about why Amazon and Ebay and Toyota are awesome, and how to be just like them (well, no, not really; it's about centralized vs. open-source organizations and is surprisingly good reading)

MST3K Secret Agent Super Dragon: apparently making a James Bond knockoff is harder than you'd think

doggerel for the shortest day of the year (by yours truly)

Tue, 22 Dec 2009 00:17:58 GMT

While the earth remaineth, seedtime and harvest, and cold and heat, and summer and winter, and day and night shall not cease. KJV, Genesis 8:22

this is the bottom of the year
we have skidded, slid, rolled inexorably downward (through no fault of our own)
until we reached this place
this moment in the dark

and now
(through no merit of our own)
we begin
the
slow
crawling
interminable
climb back up towards summer and daylight and the peak, that moment at which
we
once again
begin the descent toward winter
and the night

Xerox - Let's Say Thanks

Mon, 21 Dec 2009 23:53:29 GMT

h/t miss_porcupine

also, it's snowing again!

Sat, 19 Dec 2009 13:51:59 GMT

Which is always big news around here. They're predicting 10 to 14 inches, so we'll probably get 2, maybe 3, because the weather people always majorly overestimate the accumulated total. That, or they don't predict it at all, like the storm of a couple weeks ago. That was supposed to be dusting until after we'd already gotten an inch or two.

because "happy holidays" is pretty boring and insipid - also, mini yuletide!

Sat, 19 Dec 2009 13:26:43 GMT

View Poll: #1500971

edit: er, actually, since it's going to be christmas, let's do a mini-version of yuletide. pick a fandom (or two or three; more options means i'm more likely to be able to do one of them) and ask me for what you'd like to see me write in them. er. think shorter rather than longer.

very cool, although i'm glad this isn't on my street

Fri, 18 Dec 2009 13:28:37 GMT

word(s) of the week: creative process

Thu, 17 Dec 2009 03:19:18 GMT

creative process
traveling from point A to point B by going through points F, K, Q, Z, and possibly J, though most likely not in that order

reviews: the home movie edition

Tue, 15 Dec 2009 16:19:37 GMT

and for "home movie" read "people making excellent movies on their own, without the support of a studio", and for "reviews" read "brat is lazy and so doesn't actually review anything"

Expendable - Documents a day in the life of a newbie henchman from a James Bond-type movie. Also, several very funny training videos and "employee testimonials"

The Hunt For Gollum - Basically a missing scene (well, scenes, as it's 40 minutes long) from the LotR movie trilogy: quite well done, aside from a little wonkiness with Gollum's voice in a couple spots. Now I want to go rewatch (and reread) the originals.

I.M.P.S. - The Relentless - A "documentary" (well, more like Imperial propaganda) about the stormtroopers from Star Wars. Only the first two parts are currently available, but they are both excellent.

The League - At the end of the 40's, Chicago became home to the world's first superhero union. Twelve years later, the union's planning on going national, but first there's some old business to be taken care of....

This one's better than most studio-done superhero movies. I'd happily pay theater prices for a full-length version or sequel.

poem: Mary and Gabriel

Mon, 14 Dec 2009 12:55:18 GMT

Young Mary, loitering once her garden way,
Felt a warm splendour grow in the April day,
As wine that blushes water through. And soon,
Out of the gold air of the afternoon,
One knelt before her: hair he had, or fire,
Bound back above his ears with golden wire,
Baring the eager marble of his face.
Not man's nor woman's was the immortal grace
Rounding the limbs beneath that robe of white,
And lighting the proud eyes with changeless light,
Incurious. Calm as his wings, and fair,
That presence filled the garden.
She stood there,
Saying, "What would you, Sir?"
He told his word,
"Blessed art thou of women!" Half she heard,
Hands folded and face bowed, half long had known,
The message of that clear and holy tone,
That fluttered hot sweet sobs about her heart;
Such serene tidings moved such human smart.
Her breath came quick as little flakes of snow.
Her hands crept up her breast. She did but know
It was not hers. She felt a trembling stir
Within her body, a will too strong for her
That held and filled and mastered all. With eyes
Closed, and a thousand soft short broken sighs,
She gave submission; fearful, meek, and glad. . . .

She wished to speak. Under her breasts she had
Such multitudinous burnings, to and fro,
And throbs not understood; she did not know
If they were hurt or joy for her; but only
That she was grown strange to herself, half lonely,
All wonderful, filled full of pains to come
And thoughts she dare not think, swift thoughts and dumb,
Human, and quaint, her own, yet very far,
Divine, dear, terrible, familiar . . .
Her heart was faint for telling; to relate
Her limbs' sweet treachery, her strange high estate,
Over and over, whispering, half revealing,
Weeping; and so find kindness to her healing.
'Twixt tears and laughter, panic hurrying her,
She raised her eyes to that fair messenger.
He knelt unmoved, immortal; with his eyes
Gazing beyond her, calm to the calm skies;
Radiant, untroubled in his wisdom, kind.
His sheaf of lilies stirred not in the wind.
How should she, pitiful with mortality,
Try the wide peace of that felicity
With ripples of her perplexed shaken heart,
And hints of human ecstasy, human smart,
And whispers of the lonely weight she bore,
And how her womb within was hers no more
And at length hers?
Being tired, she bowed her head;
And said, "So be it!"
The great wings were spread
Showering glory on the fields, and fire.
The whole air, singing, bore him up, and higher,
Unswerving, unreluctant. Soon he shone
A gold speck in the gold skies; then was gone.

The air was colder, and grey. She stood alone.

Rupert Brooke

third sunday of advent

Sun, 13 Dec 2009 13:21:32 GMT

this is a terrifically fun song to sing.

Sat, 12 Dec 2009 16:04:40 GMT

you know what's REALLY ANNOYING? when your internet cuts out for 5 minutes halfway through downloading a really big file.

ARGH!

sorry, no batman

Sat, 12 Dec 2009 06:06:10 GMT

View Poll: #1497907

also, the people who left me random comments two weeks ago are awesome! do it again, please? and if you don't want to be spammed with sga snippets, just say so and i'll spam you with snippets from something else.

wish i didn't have to go to work

Fri, 11 Dec 2009 12:04:18 GMT

"never go to work" - they might be giants

5 completely unconnected bits of conversation overheard in Atlantis

Thu, 10 Dec 2009 23:18:15 GMT

i have so many unfinished 5-things sitting on my hard drive it's not funny.

*

1. "Did a cupcake really try to eat Colonel Sheppard's face?"

"I heard it was Ronon."

"No, no---Sheppard tried to eat it, Ronon told him not to, and then they started a massive food fight."

"Really? I thought it was a Jello wrestling match."

"Jello?"

"....Uh, yes sir. Jensen was complaining that they never have the orange-flavored kind."

"Citrus is evil, haven't you heard? Oh, and it was a spindley-drome that tried to eat my face, not a cupcake. Several other peoples' faces, too, actually. And then Ronon shot it."

"..."

"Just want to make sure you have the facts, if you're going to be talking about it."

"....Sir. Jensen, you are so dead."

2. "And then this thing covered in purple spots landed on my head."

"It was a chicken, Rodney."

"Chickens are not purple. Anyway, isn't it your job to keep that kind of thing from happening to me?"

"My job, Rodney, is to protect Atlantis. I don't think domesticated fowl really enter the equation."

"Oh, but cupcakes do?"

"....It wasn't a cupcake, Rodney."

"Sure."

3. "No no no! This crystal goes here, that crystal goes there."

"If you want something to explode, perhaps. I thought we went over this two days ago, yes?"

"Yes. And we decided the board needs to be configured the other way to prevent random power surges."

"I think you'll find if you look at our notes that you are wrong."

"I'm not wrong."

"I might be more inclined to agree with you if I hadn't seen those pictures of you with a chicken on your head."

"....He took pictures? I'm going to kill him."

"Yes, yes. But first put the crystals back where they should be, please."

4. "I hear someone's planning your death, John."

"Yeah, though I'm not sure why."

"Something to do with purple-spotted chickens, I heard."

"What? I told him birds aren't in my job description. That doesn't seem like a good reason to kill me."

"Maybe not, but what about the photos?"

"....What?"

5. "If Rodney finds out you're the one who took those photos, there will be 'hell to pay', as John would put it."

"Yeah, but he won't. He thinks Sheppard did it."

"I can't imagine why."

"....I may have said something to someone and told them not to repeat it."

"Ronon!"

"Hey, he didn't believe me about the face eating spindley-drome. This is just a little pay-back."

yeah, i dunno either

Wed, 09 Dec 2009 23:43:49 GMT