Finished Anansi Boys

Finished Anansi Boys just now, I think out of everything that I read my favorite passage has to be:

Charlie pushed his fedora back onto his head. Some hats can only be worn if you're willing to be jaunty, to set them at an angle and to walk beneath them with a spring in your stride as if you're only a step away from dancing. They demand a lot of you. This hat was one of those, and Charlie was up to it.

Gaiman has such a way with words and at the same time he’s not using overly complex language and it still paints things out vividly and in an easy to understand manner. I really liked this book, though I am not sure if its better than American Gods.

I Am Jack’s Fear

You know that saying about, “if you love something/someone, let them go”? Well it seems like there’s been a lot of that in my life and its usually ended up in loss. Many of those times its really for the better, a lot of the time we can’t see how something is because we hold it too dear or people change and become different people.

I’m praying this time is different, really, honestly praying. The thought has kept me preoccupied recently and I’ve wondered if there were things I could reflect back on and see where they went wrong. Sometimes it was just the absolute wrong person or sometimes it was the wrong thing. I don’t think either of those are the case this time.

Worrying never helped anything, but I can’t help it. So I am doing the only thing I can do when I’m worried like this, I’m praying that this is the time where that bond lasts. I know we’re not supposed fret over what we don’t have, we’re supposed to be thankful that which we do. What I do have right now is a great friend and it would be a shame to lose another person—especially this time.

Well I’m out—gone for the day and signing off in a way that I don’t think I have in about five or six years on this blog. If this is the new copy of the blog, it’s never happened here. But some of you might know it well.

—See You Space Cowboy

The Black Knight’s Flag – A little RP moment

Me: After thinking for a moment Dee said, "One more question, do you know of a black knight with a flaming hoofed horse?"

Sebastian: "...blah Knight with a flaming what?" Sebastian had finally awoke amidst the clamor of Itolla's arrival. The Cleric looked a bit...well...out of it.

Me: Dee perked up, "We've also been given marching orders..." she said, "We've got a long fight ahead of us it seems," she said looking out across the plains. Madeleine had only been awake for a few minutes and she hadn't felt like being bothered with people just yet, especially not after the previous night. Despite it, she could hear there was some activity going on so she made her way into the common area. "You missed it Madeleine, there was..." Dee started. "An evil Black Knight?" she asked, "Yeah I saw the whole thing from my tower..." "Say, do you think the flag has some kind of magical effects? You would know better than I do Sebastian, and if it does we should probably get rid of it..." asked Dee.

Sebastian: "Sounds like a Blackguard, or a Paladin from the depths of Baator, given strength by hellfire itself--in truth, a dangerous foe. Your concern is well placed." Sebastian walked over to the flag and muttered something. It wasn't anything particularly potent, just a Detect Evil that he would center on the flag.

DM: How many rounds does Sebastian concentrate on the Detect Evil spell?
Assuming the full 3 rounds. Round 1- There is Evil around Sebastian. Round 2- There is only a single source of overwhelming evil coming from the flag. It stuns Sebastian for 6 seconds and ends his concentration. Within the party none seem to be able to recall anything about the flag. Unless someone wants to try an knowledge roll, i.e. Knowledge history, nobility or local. A horse with flaming hooves is definitely not from the mortal realm. Itolla speaks up as she hears you discussing this black knight. "I've seen hims a few times around. He's not the type to wield a sword or lance into combat. He wields a warmace or warhammer of some sort and with such power you'd think he's the size of a grey render or something. He however does love to toss powerful divine magic at his foe first or enhances his troops with magic before following up. Also he's very difficult to fight magic to magic wise. I've exchanged blows with him before, and without my globe of invulnerability, he probably would have pummeled me to death. A very difficult commander to kill. You guys look like you didn't have much sleep last night." Itolla tries changing the subject. "With this many people here, why don't you take more rest, you will need to be fresh, when trying to hit that supply line. Though my men aren't fresh either, they did have more sleep than you guys did."

Me: Dee stared at her, "Do we look that off?" she asked. She drew her hands about her as Madeleine examined the flag from a short distance. "It looks like a normal flag," Madeleine said. "Well we're sure that it wasn't a normal horse...what with the fire and all," Dee said.

Orseth: "That thing was strong," Orseth muttered to anyone listening, watching the dust swirl over the battleplains below, "Really strong. If I fought it, I'd die. But that's because it's strength is twofold. It has it's own strength, and the strength of whatever evil, Dis I think it said, is backing it up. If we could block that, I think it can be killed. Something like that, killing it would have a positive effect on the entire battlefield for us, right?"

Sebastian: Sebastian fell backwards, stunned by something emanating from the flag. "Is that pyre still burning--don't let anyone directly touch that pole." Knowledge religion; 1d20 + 6, 19+6 = 25 to identify, garner information from the flag of Dis. Generally most heraldry has something to do with religion

Orseth: "If he's a paladin or variation of, isn't that his God, Dis, then?" Orseth continued to theorize, remembering a campaign of his past, "So you block one God with another. We've certainly got enough supporters of whoever doesn't like Dis, right?"

Sebastian: "Dis--a god? Hah!" Sebastian laughed, sarcastically. He then went to his pack, and removed a shirt--something a bit like what a peasant would wear. Wrapping it around the base of the pole so he wouldn't actually be touching the thing, the Cleric squatted down and then gave a great heave, hopefully uprooting the standard (14+2 = 16). "Now...this is a blessing if ever I saw one!"

Orseth: "It's the same concept," Orseth bit back, "Actually, that makes us better off, because actual divine intervention will be even more likely to succeed. My point stands firm."

DM: On a military scale among fiends from the outer realms Sebastian would categorize Dis' rank around either a Sergeant or at best a Lieutenant first rank.He's actually on the 'bottom' ranking of their military might. The flag is just a corrupted flag, intended to influence those around them subtly with evil thoughts, until they break. [evil vs sebi's will]1d20+10=4+10 = 14 resisted Since it is an overwhelming evil, as Sebastian picks up the flag he feels a surge of thoughts running through him, yet with his discipline he resists and suppress these ideas. What is Sebastian doing with the flag? Orseth's guess is good, however he can guess that Sebastian doesn't have the necessary power neither does Lyn or Luemus. Maybe the city itself may have some means of doing it, but with the constant barrage and attacks, the high mages probably don't have the time to develop anything currently.

Me: Dee ran over, "What are you doing touching that thing again," she said, "Be careful!" Madeleine watched from back with the others as she worked with her bow still. She glanced up, "I don't think this bow's gotten this much use before," she said, "you kind of have to break them in."

Sebastian: Sebastian looked at the standard for a moment and then moved his hands farther apart, making sure to keep the shirt between his hands and the standard. He looked around and then announced in a loud voice that might, just might be heard throughout the camp "Do not let the events of this morning trouble you...this, is the power of his God." He waited for a moment, uttered a prayer under his breath (Bull's Strength, Target him) and then brought the standard down over his knee, hopefully breaking it (1d20+6, 18+6 = 24) (If it breaks) "...Now has anyone seen a midden heap?" His voice was tinged with scorn.

DM: The standard breaks on Sebastian's knee on his first attempt. A chilling air surges upward from where Sebastian stands visible to all as a fog. It disappears shortly after, it seems as if an evil spirit had left the flag.

Burning Books

Today I’ve decided to stage a protest against the group I dislike by burning their sacred text.

Take that Furries!

Just a Pair of Quotes

One from Chuck Bass:

The world you're looking at only exists from the outside. The only reason I survive in it is that I always knew it was empty.

One from the mean streets of Utah:

Yo cuz what French people be rapping about? standing on the corner selling hard baguettes? bicycling away from the police?

Working on Cosmology

This is just a bit from my story, I think it will be heavily changed before I actually put it back in there though.

 

Reality is most often referred to as being a fabric or fabric-like. This comparison is more accurate than most would know. Our universe is like sheets layered one upon another. Most beings exist in one sheet and can only perceive reality in that layer. The average human falls into that category, they wander about their day to day lives and even on the off chance that something from another realm pokes its way into their sight, they shrug it off—ignoring it. Those things don’t mesh with their accepted reality.

A sacred few of the humans can see the bleed over and sense the ebb and flow as the sheets and layers are pushed, pulled and manipulated. They’re a special breed and typically they’re driven mad by their own perception of the world.

There are other beings, Vampires and Werewolves mostly, tethered to this layer and only able to see the world right in front of them. But then there are the beings who bend and manipulate sheets, stepping between them and creating crevices and small creases to step a great distance. They fold the layers at their will, though only momentarily, and force themselves through the fold to create a quick straight line to a point that wouldn’t otherwise have one. Some of these creatures can step into multiple layers at once, they can view them in a kind of stacked vision. Internal picture-in-picture-in-picture.

And the same way they can see and pull themselves back and forth between layers—they can communicate. A single voice can howl through the cosmos reaching the furthest reaches of the universe, reaching down through all of the layers and rippling through space and time. Sometimes a thing in another layer presses so hard or sounds off so loud that its cracking into every reality and reverberating through every sheet.

Today one of those calls is echoing out, rousing anyone with the skill to listen.

Cardboard Tube Knight

This was drawn by my pretend internet little sister, Katie. I love it.

“A Meeting of the Minds” And “Don’t Give Up”

We had a little “Dude’s Night Out” tonight, there might be pictures to prove this later on but the camera is in the car and seeing as how I can actually hear the mosquitoes outside, I don’t want to go out there.

It was a fun little outing, had a nice time, good conversation and all.

I sent a message to a girl on Deviant Art, someone who I aspire to draw sort of like and she told me not to give up and posted a FAQ about it all, she’s right. I can’t give up.

Let Me Tell You How Not to Be a Good Friend

By just ignoring the other person, when you make time for everyone else all of the time and ignore them you really can’t expect me to want to put up with you or even pay you much attention.

And that’s how its going to be from now on.

Hollywood Goes for a More Realistic Body Image?

It’s about time, Hollywood has picked a leading lady who’s not meant to be pitied and she’s actually not an ultra skinny twig woman.

Check out these pictures of Nicole Weaver from The Virginity Hit.

Anasai Boys

This book has been flying by pretty fast. I simply love the straightforward way in which Neil Gaiman writes.

Oddly enough, this book is very different from American Gods. It’s based in the same world and its a world  I hope Gaiman writes more in, but the story is different.

I did comment that it was good to see someone writing a book about mostly black characters where their blackness was not a huge factor in the story.

Message

She’s hidden a message in a song.

A message so hidden that I don’t know if she herself noticed it. Twisted and wrapped about the lyrics is a sentimental virus that has the means to infect me and damage the last of what I have to hold dear.

Maybe I’m just imagining things. But even then I’ll continue to piece together this puzzle and work through the trail of bread crumbs—even if they turn out to be little more than the aimless mess left behind from a long forgotten meal.

What is wrong with Writer’s Digest?

The title refers to this: http://www.writersdigest.com/article/5_Tips_To_Polish_Your_Fiction

Use appropriate and frequent paragraph breaks. Who doesn’t know this? If you don’t know this, you should be writing.

Use only one name for a character. Sorry, no, several books use different names for characters, especially when they’re changing perspectives and it makes sense. December isn’t going to call her mother Mary, the same as Stroud isn’t going to call his ex-wife Mom. Their third person narration shouldn’t regard them that way either.

Choose entirely distinct character names. Is it just me or are they treating the reader like a dumbass?

Don''t use slang unless you clarify it. Slang is often easily clarified by context. It at time enhances characters and it at time is a beautiful thing to put in fiction. In fact, many words we use here daily are very foreign in other English speaking countries. I really can’t be bothered to follow rules from someone who doesn’t do this “don”t” number to each contraction.

Limit your use of possibly offensive language. Perhaps the most offensive of them all. Most of these treat the reader as if they’re an idiot that can’t follow names and is so wary that a few extra sentences will end their existence. Then they go on to to point out that women are bothered by cursing. Really? I could swear I’ve heard women curse before. I’ve also seen them watch Tarantino flicks and there’s a lot of fucking cursing there.

Gah—this whole thing is just, retarded.

Take Care

So its safe to say that I’m ill.

I’ve been burnt up for the last few days, I spent too much time working in the sun and tiring myself out and its catching up to me. I can’t stand for long, can’t balance myself in the way I should be able to. My eyes burn sometimes, for seemingly no reason, too.

I don’t like being ill in this way, its better when you’re just flat out delirious with pain and you know you can’t do anything and others know it too. People don’t realize that I can feel myself draining out as I move around—like those ridiculously short stamina bars they put in video games as a realism mechanic.

Guess those main characters have the same illness I have.

Yesterday I briefly thought it would be nice to go out and cut the grass.

Yesterday I almost passed out in the yard.

It wasn’t hot, nor was it back breaking labor.

Maddy says I should take better care of myself, I don’t think I know how to or have good reason to. But I try despite that.

Practice Makes Perfect?

I’m working on it.

Lewis and Holly Conversations…

This is just a little something from something I am writing, some of you might recognize it if you’ve ever read this part of Students of the Universe.

“I see,” Holly pushed her bistre tendrils out of her face.

The coke and toast were delivered and the moment the waitress was gone Lewis bit a chunk out of the bread and drank a huge hurried set of gulps. “You really ought to try this,” he said through a full mouth.

“It’s garlic bread. I’ve had garlic bread.”

“Nope, Texas Toast,” Lewis shook his head.

“I’m quite capable of reading the menu,” she sighed. “Don’t you find it the least bit odd that this state seems obsessed with including its name in front of foods that already existed? No one else does that sort of thing.”

Lewis took another drink from his soda. “What about: Turkish Coffee, Rocky Mountain Oysters, French Fries and English Muffins—,“ he rambled the list out as if he had prepared it.

“But most of those were—I mean one of them’s just a euphemism—bugger, never mind,” Holly sat in silence and finished her tea as he ate and drank.

Pick a Side? Why?

I love going from forum to forum, posting on topics of a social or political nature that have to do with current events and being labeled as a Conservative and a Liberal at the exact same time.

It just shows the unending stupidity of some people that before they even know a thing about me, their first instinct is to label someone and then denounce said label. “Oh, you’re just a liberal—that means you don’t care about America” or “You and your Conservative mindset, its people like you that destroyed out economy.”

That has become how people argue these days, or at least its become a their go-to argument when they have nothing else to say. Instead of trying to refute what’s said, they simply claim your part of the other side and try to rally like minds to their cause.

Still its fun to watch them squirm when they find out that I have ideas from either side of the fence and don’t really fit squarely into either camp.

I think more people would be like that…if they actually knew what they were talking about.

The Verdicts are…almost in…

Early word on the story from those reading it is…its good!

Passenger Seat – Short Piece

A mere hour into the drive and with less than six words between them, Sarah had already decided that she wanted to be Dee. There was something refreshingly innocent about the girl; a youthful feel about her that came more from a state of mind than a lack of time.

She sat in the passenger seat of the El Camino with one pretty, slightly chubby, but shapely leg hanging out the window and her foot propped between the side mirror and car. Whether she was still awake or not, it was hard for Sarah to tell because of the mop of curls that guarded Dee’s delicate face.

Against the rust brown backdrop of the Arizona desert, Dee’s pale lustrous skin, seemingly untouched by sun, made her that much more mysterious. Sarah had to wonder; how did this girl get out here? Why was she hitchhiking? These were the questions one never asked, rules of the road—the rules of those running away. It was never about where you came from and it was all about where you were headed.

Everyone had something to run from.

When Dee stirred and crooked her head to the side to glance at Sarah, she smiled with the hot dusty air whipping her hair back around the headrest. “How much further to Vegas?” Dee asked as they passed another sign for U.S. Route 93.

“We’re almost to Boulder Dam, not sure how far it is from there,” Sarah said with torrid diesel aroma burning at her eyes.

Dee rolled over, adjusting to the hard leather of the seat and tugging her velvety dress down around her hips. “About an hour now, we’re making good time,” Dee said.

Planning Stages

Was looking into a basis for my character, Elizabeth. She’s Holly’s older sister and she kind of needs to be somewhat different and at the same time still seem like a sister and someone related to Holly.

Then I saw this image:

This is going to be her basis, right here. Her look, her personality, based mostly off this picture. I know it sounds odd, but at the same time you can tell a lot of things  from an image. Or you can at least draw a lot of things from one.