( Read more... )

I'll either be scarce or a constant annoyance.

If I owe you something, fuckit, it was going to suck anyway.

Apologies on all counts.

I seem to accidentally have broken my head.

I commented off the cuff in someone's LJ that Steam-Powered II was going to be a roundup of "the go-to authors for steampunk, and Milliwaysers." I thought about that, and then I thought, wow, that means a bunch more of you might be interested!

I cannot promise you Go, Dog, Go rendered in dactylic hexameter while drunk and having just come off a ( Read more... )

Introduction: Kevin Steil (of Airship Ambassador)

Journey's End: Elizabeth Porter Birdsall
Amphitrite: S.L. Knapp
In the Heart of Yellow Mountain: Jaymee Goh
Playing Chess in New Persepolis: Sean Holland
A Thousand Mill Lofts Gray: Jeannelle Ferreira
Dark Horse: A.M. Tuomala
The Return of Cherie: Nisi Shawl
One Last Interruption before We Begin: Stephanie ( Read more... )

Anybody who's still even reading LJ want to weigh in with experiences with CPT (cognitive processing therapy) for PTSD? Acronyms aside, comments will be screened ( Read more... )

(Not to be confused, at all, with Deer Awther, which will crop up again when I am editing MSS and not large reference volumes with 200pp indices, mother trucker.)

Here is some lovely myth-building from this winter, from asakiyume . Serendiptiously discovered when I totally thought she was someone else. She has a delightfully authory RL name, too. ( ( Read more... )

Anybody care to expound on their experience publishing with Torquere?

Alternatively, anybody have an in with Felice Newman at Cleis?

*eyelash batting to the nth degree*

Really fucked up about the Leiby Kletzky thing. Not for the reason everyone else is.

You can read it here,  in Stone Telling Number Four, and I'm chuffed to say that it is in the superb company of Amal El-Mohtar (who wrote this last year), C.W. Johnson, Nisi Shawl, whom I had never had the pleasure of reading before, and some person who keeps coming round, who put a pebble in my shoe about this poem I wrote because it was about her ( Read more... )

My forty-six-year-old department director died on Tuesday. It is very weird. We were a small department, up on the fifth floor of an old building and the female flotsam of a medium-sized association (we do have one guy now, the last person she hired). We are a tight dysfunctional family as far as work families go. No one is doing well today.