6.17.2008
Wanna See?
6.16.2008
Old Classmates and New Books
Cheyenne Jackson was a friend of mine from High School. He always was into acting and had a great voice. I have to say that while all the girls lusted after him, I never did. Sure, I thought he was cute and hot and all that, but to me, he was always just a friend. I never thought of him in any other way. I thought about his older brother in lustful ways. OMG, did I ever. Well, I thought of A LOT of guys in other ways, but never him. So, when I was told he was gay (in a shocking voice, as though it was a horrible thing) I just nodded and said, "I thought so." It was just something I'd always wondered about him... The person who told me said, "He always went out with the most beautiful girls in school, but always broke up with them when it got too real." Or something close to that, maybe she said intimate, but this girl isn't the smartest kid in kindergarten, so I could be wrong. I thought back to all the girls I'd known about, and really, she was way too liberal with the word beautiful. This is my catty side coming out, of course, but one of the girls he dated was really really skinny. She looked like a reanimated skeleton. She would not have been beautiful if she'd had fat under that skin, or muscle. I feel mean saying that, because she was beautiful inside, I suppose, though I never got to know her well. Anyway, so it wasn't a big deal to me. I love his website (http://cheyennejackson.com) and wonder who keeps it up. I doubt it is him. So, yeah. Ok. Whatever Dawn, let's get back on track.
Anyway, I dvr'd the early show last friday, cuz he was on it. Damn them waiting until the end of the show to show Xanadu and Cheyenne. But it was neat seeing him on my TV, when before I'd only seen him in my classes, or on stage at school. I was supposed to play his mother in Bye Bye Birdie, but my stepmom was being whorey and didn't want to drive to Newport everyday to pick me up so another girl took the part. I'm not bitter. Really. I left Newport after 10th grade, so I missed any other performances he may have been in...
So it was awesome. Yvonne said, "This looks gay." And then I found this on YouTube and laughed my ass off.
I love Nathan Lane. I'm a bit jealous of Cheyenne, I'll have to admit it. Such a jerk! :)
I'm kidding. He's never been a jerk. I just wish he'd hurry it up and make it big so that the few things I have from him could be worth something lol. Not that I'd sell the picture of me he drew, or the signature book he said "You can too sing!" in (see, he was always nice) but it'd be nice to frame lol.
Well. Anyway, just wanted to share. It's too bad they were all wearing those fakey underwear. If i was more into broadway and youtube, I'd know who this cubby bernstein fella was. I'm not, and I don't care, really, so I'm not going to bother looking into it.
On a different note, I finally get a chance to read for pleasure and I can't find any books that interest me. There is this one that Theresa at the S. Hill hastings recommended, it says, "Awe inspiring!" on the cover. It is called, Across the Face of the World and not even half-through the book I have found a sentence with the title's name in it. I don't know if the title was the author's idea, or if it was the editor's idea. It doesn't matter... it was a bad one, plus I have not been inspired to awe. I've been inspired to, "Ahhh this is crap," but that's it. The writing is horrible (it feels like something that was never edited for clarity) and the storyline is the same storyline you can find in ANY fantasy book. It is like the author liked the ideas from all the books he's read and tried to incorporate them into one book. It keeps pissing me off. I keep reading it, hoping that maybe it will get better. I am starting to give up hope.
It makes me wonder if it is because I've been ruined by all these creative writing classes, or if it's really bad. Then I remember The Name of the Wind and realize that no, it isn't that. The Name of the Wind is an awesome book. I fell in love with it... so in all likelihood, it's a horrible book.
Um... baby is cruising and crawling. Today she stood up next to the table without holding on. It won't be long before she's walkin'. Yay. She is into EVERYTHING. Her favorite thing to do is to take things out of things. If it's in a box, she empties it, a bag... empty. Anything she gets her hands on, empty. I've also moved her to yvonne's room and moved Yvonne to the girls's room, and she is sleeping all night long. Yay! I get sleep. It is nice.
I'm bored out of my mind.
6.10.2008
Looks to be a Good Guide....
Link (Or you can click on the title)
Blurb:
6. Harshness and critique
This is an unending debate. Let me begin with what I consider to be absolutely unacceptable: personal attacks, racial comments, sexist remarks, and other such idiocy. This is called rudeness. Rudeness is bad. It is different from harshness, because harshness usually has a point and if taken in the right way, can work wonders.
Now, should you be harsh? No, I don’t think so. Firm is better than harsh, but a very fine line separates these two. My rule so far is: if you can’t take someone giving you a critique that is harsh, you certainly shouldn’t be offering a harsh critique to someone else. This said, I would say that harsh critique is acceptable. “Go read a book,” is critique and good critique at that, no matter how much it stings. I would suggest not phrasing it in the same way, and in the event that you feel it is necessary to gear the writer towards better writers, suggest it carefully. Ask what kind of books they read, how often they read, and so on. Suggest books that you think can help them.
A couple of things to consider:
The maturity of the writer: It is important for you to know beforehand whether the writer is capable of taking your criticism or not. Since this is hard to gauge over the Internet (unless you are already familiar with the person whose writing you are critiquing), it is safer to avoid harshness of any kind.
We’re talking about deviantART: There are no moderators who will come swooping down to defend your harsh critique. There are GDs, staff members, and other influential types, yes, but the vastness of the site prevents them from noticing every little quibble.
In conclusion, be honest and firm; try not to be harsh, unless absolutely necessary.
Extra reading:
A discussion at *Amberlouie's journal about harshness in critique; this is my rather personal opinion on the matter
Now this is from deviantart.com and yes, it's based on critiques there, however a lot of it can be digested and diverted into other areas of life. Email critique, blog critique, one on one critique... grad school critique. :)
Chris. You are mean.
6.09.2008
Experimentation (Warning! Warning! Bad Stuff for Kids to read!)
Experimentation
A woman goes out with this nerdy guy at her work to be nice. Somehow, he takes over her mind and she finds herself naked in his shower, then naked in his bed. He comes in with a bucket of liquid metal and tells her to place her legs in it. She says no again and again and blacks out.
She wakes up in a hospital room, drugged and pregnant. She is in an insane asylum and has no idea who she is. The man comes in, rubs her baby bump and sits down. "It's a girl," he says. She smiles at him and feels the baby kick. He has a bag with him, a shopping bag from a well-known shopping center. He takes out a pair of bronzed feet. They remind her of bronzed baby booties, but they are size sevens. She smiles at him uncertainly. Why is he showing her this? He says, "Surely you remember, Barbara." Memories suddenly cascade through her mind.
She sees him over her, pumping into her fiercely while she screams in pain. Her legs ache horribly and feel heavy. He is raping her, and has raped her again and again for the past few weeks. Suddenly he stops, and says, "I can't do it. You're getting rank." He gets off her, covers her up, and finishes on her face. It's quite disgusting. She spits and continues to scream. She tries to sit up and pain encircles her brain. She uncovers herself and stares down in horror at what has become of her legs. Her feet are encased in bronze and just above the metal her legs are shriveled and black. Bright lines of blood flow up her legs, past her knee, nearly to the middle of her thigh. There are maggots feasting freely in the flesh of her calf. Her legs radiate pain like a light bulb radiates light, and she wonders that he can't feel it as well. "What have you done?" She asks.
He laughs, shrugs, and says, "Just something else to add to my trophy room." Her mind drifts to other memories, they happen in a quick succession; she is reliving months of pain and horror in a matter of seconds. She removes the blanket and see the stumps that are her legs.
"Oh, good." He says, "You've removed the blanket for me. That will make this so much easier." He cracks his knuckles, a habit she is sure has always grossed her out. "I realized after I found out you were pregnant that I do want a baby to raise." He smiled, but it never reached his eyes. That was one thing that had never changed in his face. His bald head now was full of hair... his eyes were no longer brown. He didn't even go by the same name as he did when she worked with him. She was starting to remember more than the pain and hurt he inflicted in the past.
"I'm not Barbara." She whispers. He reaches into his shopping bag and brings forth a metal hanger and slowly starts straightening it out. She tries to scoot away, but she doesn't have the strength. "What are you doing?"
"We'll just have to try again, love." He says. "I want me a son." Then he forces her stubs apart and slowly inserts the hanger. "You may feel a pinch." He says with the same soulless smile. Then he forces the hanger home and says, "Don't be in such a hurry to push me away."
She wakes up again. It's a new day. A nurse walks in and taps the I.V. hanging out of her arm. "How are we today, Mrs. Cleever?" She asks. The woman remembers her pregnancy and reaches down to feel her now flat stomach. It isn't the smooshy softness she expects, it has an odd firmness she doesn't associate with the loss of a baby.
"My baby?" She asks.
The nurse rolls her eyes. "Not again, Mrs. Cleever. We've been through this before."
The woman feels tears course down her face. "What happened? Please? I don't remember."
The nurse seems to feel some pity and finally tells her she lost it. "Spontaneous abortion. If you'd been a couple weeks further along, it'd be called a premature birth." The woman decides the pity idea was wrong and lets herself cry. She cries until she vomits all over herself, bringing the nurse back in, and she's drugged into another sleep.
She wakes up to "Ted" walking into the room. She feels fear at his presence, but doesn't know why. He smiles at her and whispers, "Hello, love. Ready to try for a boy? I have it on good authority that you are ovulating today."
She looks at him and almost says no. But then she thinks, a baby... I need a baby. She nods and he shuts the door to her private room. She willingly takes him into her arms. She doesn't know it, but this is the first time she allows him to kiss her. He takes his time with her, makes love to her as he perhaps has always wanted to. She wants to wrap her legs around him, but she can't; they are gone. Instead she clasps him to her, they finish together and he whispers, "I love you, Susie."
"I love you too, Ted." The fear is beginning to ebb away. He smiles again, but it reaches his eyes this time. She doesn't quite remember the other smiles, but she does remember that he's always been there for her. During this whole hospital stay, he is the only one who has come to visit her. He is the only one to show he cares.
"It's time for you to come home." He states. She sighs with relief.
It's good to be going home with the man you love.
6.08.2008
This is me, looking inward...
I know in a lot of people's eyes, I'm a bitch. I'm OK with that. If I'm being a bitch. But most the time, they look at me and assume I am. This impression sticks with them, forever. When that pursed lip look I tend to take is shown, please remember that it is only a symptom of having bucked teeth as a child, that need to always hide the hideous smile from the world.
For those in my classes this quarter... the only class I truly loved the people in was the capstone. My heart has always been bursting with love for people. In this instance, if I say it, it just means I like you a whole lot, but not in a weird Mrs. Robinson kind of way. I may not list your name, also because I can't remember everyone. I'm not a God, but mostly I'm tired.
Josh P. Seriously, he is one of my favorite people in the world. The fact that he is so strong and stoic about his health challenge blows my mind. (I can't spell it). I love your poetry. I love your humor, and I think you are really cute.
Chris C. He has got to be one of the nicest people I've ever met in my life. Besides myself, of course. He's funny, too, and all you have to do is make me laugh, and you have a spot beside me for always. This goes for everyone mentioned here though. I hope you don't forget about me, Chris, cuz I won't forget about you.
Aaron K. You are funny, intelligent, and when you put your hair back in a pony tail and leave part of it down, you remind me of a very young Mongul. But cute, not dangerous and marauding. I hope you get your comic book making skills up off the ground and live your dreams.
Jenai! I've only had you in two classes. Both were this year, as you know. My first idea of you was, "She's quiet and likes Thai noodles." Then it became, "She seems fun." And then, "Wow she is mean to me." Of course, that was an email snafu, and I came to understand I was being touchy. :) You rock, girl, and I can't wait to see what life brings your way.
Nancy. I've had you in a couple classes. You always brought in stacks of books., which blew my mind. I could tell you really love what you are learning. When you were showing older books to Josh in Binney's class, I wanted so bad to know what they were. I love old books. LOVE THEM... but I didn't know you well enough to butt in. You're funny and smart and I hope I learn more about you in the years to come.
David. Hey. I always thought you didn't like me. Until this quarter, really. I don't know why. Maybe it was my inner demon being a bitch. Probably, cuz we had some good laughs, and good conversations...
Scott. Scott, when I was telling my husband about you, I said, "He's very personable." Then I was accused of being an old lady for saying that. I was floored when I heard you were put on the waiting list for Fiction. I didn't understand why you weren't snatched right up. You are an awesome writer. I hope to one day buy a book of your essays or short stories, or a novel. Hey, do all three. :) I hope that one day you and your girlfriend both quit smoking. It's super hard, but if I can do it, you can do it. Believe me... I'm a huge addict. About everything. Now I just need to kick the Mountain Dew addiction, then I can move on to fatty foods. Kicking them, not eating them. I do that enough now. :)
Lisa. You are a great person and a wonderful writer. You are not afraid to try something that is new to you, and I think you should keep on doing it. Keep on writing (like your blog says) and don't be afraid of failure. It is that fear that holds us down (I know it holds me down).
There are a lot of folks I wish I could have gotten to know better. A lot of people I wish I could have made friends with.
Am I the Only One?
Am I the only one who finds this odd? A lot of Tallulah's friends (the only hamster name I recall at the moment) are also hamsters with myspace pages. There seems to be a trend.
I think I will make one for my dog. His profile will say bi, because all dogs like it both ways. Then, it will say, "I'm nearly 7, but act 2. I am looking for a home with people who appreciate me and are willing to put up with my shit." Then he will post a few pictures of himself.
- "This is me in the snow."
- "This is me in the grass."
- "This is me sleeping."
- "This is me sleeping again."
Ok, see, now I've really gone overboard. Maybe that is how it started--as a joke, and soon it turned into the thing to do!
Well, I'm not havin' it. I'm not. That's just too much work.
6.04.2008
Goodbye, Dear Classmates, Goodbye..
And I have to say Rachel Toor, so she will get an email. You rock Rachel. Seriously. :)
6.03.2008
Blogger Incentive Prizes
Blogger Incentive Prizes!
Posted by Susan Marie Groppi
2 June 2008
Okay, so I'm only on my third post of the fund drive, and I'm already starting to be exhausted from using all of these exclamation points. Sorry about that. I am, in fact, actually very excited about the fund drive, but I don't know that I need to show it quite! so! punctuationally!
That said, more exclamation points are on the way, because we have one more category of special bonus prizes: blogger incentive prizes! (If anyone has suggestions for a less business-y marketing-speak name for these prizes, let me know, please?) Promotion is the lifeblood of our fund drive--if people don't know that we're asking for money, and offering them fabulous gifts in return, how are we ever going to make our goal? In past fund drives, people have been really wonderful about helping promote the fund drive by mentioning it in their blogs and whatnot, and this time around, we want to show our gratitude in a more tangible way. How? With another prize drawing! (I do love me a random number generator.)
We have a set of four special bonus prizes, one for each week of the fund drive. Each week, one of these special bonus prizes will be given to one lucky person who helped out the Strange Horizons Fund Drive by mentioning it (and linking to it) from their blog, webjournal, or other exciting form of website. That's right! Just mentioning the fund drive, and linking to it, can win you a prize! Later today, I'll make an announcement of this week's blogger incentive prize, so you'll know what you're trying to win. (Speaking to more lofty goals, you should help promote the Strange Horizons Fund Drive because you love Strange Horizons and want us to be able to continue to pay our authors! Speaking more practically, though, these are pretty great prizes, and so simple to win.)6.02.2008
oops
Oh! It's June! If you appreciate the arts, donate to strangehorizons.com. 1 dollar is a good amount :) if you don't have a paypal account, just give me the money and I'll donate it in your name. You'll be able to win some really cool prizes. :)
Go do it. Karma will love you.