anachred

Bethany Powell grew up with the marvelous and insidious opportunity to read books almost all day. Mealtimes would have been a hateful event if she weren't also rather fond of food. As her primary talents seem to be music, creating fake histories, and organizing parties she decided to pursue a career related to the only one she is consistently motivated to do: write fantasy

( In Case of Friending, Press [This]  )

Because it's always appropriate to judge a person by their bookshelves...

( Cut for Blatant Cover Images )

Etsy Buy Handmade gossamersong

Isn't it pretty? *laughs*

I have discovered the one version of God Rest Ye Merry Gentleman that I like.
Go figure...it's done with a slightly sad tempo and guitar work that almost sounds like lute music.


Ah, old-school Jars of Clay...I miss you.

Slightly related rant: this song should be termed God Rest Ye. (Maybe it wouldn't always be such a hard-on-the-ears peppy rendition if it was.) Why do we say the whole blasted first line? Anyways...
Maybe that keeps it from being done more often.

I mean, you can hardly mess up I Wonder As I Wander, so I'm glad it's not quite a mouthful, though the title has the same word-count.

Still trying to write a bit of Backlash Girls every day.
Revelations about Tom Brady's influence on the fate of a young Power, Ena's comfort with gymnastics in outsized hoop earrings, a rogue card, and the creative use of a pommel horse have all emerged since the last time...well, I collaged here anyway.

Freedom has requested to be taught how to fall, as the first piece of their action hero skillset...
This story is incredibly easy to write.
You'll no doubt hear all about how hard it is to revise shortly.


Most Recent Neurotic Bent:
I'm waiting for some rejections. Worried I'm missing them because of e-mail address drama.
The only one that's really overdue I sent a query about a few months ago, though, with the correct one. Pointless circles...

My studies of Korean, however, are going better than I expected...

Down Side To Being Internet Free Most of the Day:

I have a lot more time to be thinking of all sorts of things, including things to blog about. Sorry, kids.



I've been also not watching shows so much close to bed time. This means...
having my own dreams, not based on other stories!


...My primal imagination is A BEAST.

( And tonight we feature unique funerary arrangements! )


Sometimes I don't know how I write such sane stuff, when I get a look Back There.

I'm down to only 2 queries out now--I need to send out some paper ones, research up a handful more names. This is boring, as updates go, but I thought it probably ought to be said. I have 5 rejections on the wall (whoa, Hanson ambush...) and one invisible one floating around somewhere.

Something new about this stage is being able to look at the manuscript and think, This is the best thing I can make it.

When I was talking with my mother the other day about the rejection stats, she began to bring up the possibility that I need to revise, tweak those first pages...
and without feeling defensive or guilty, I said:

No.
Those pages represent the book that it is. They are as good as I can get them by myself.

Both cool and scary to have brought a project to that point for the first time.



This guy is now looking at me on my desk.
Dear. You *know* you ought to be revising that last bit of the series.
Don't make me call Birch, now, hmm?


ozark_hoodlums was updated today, starting Chapter 2: Crime in a Land of Vigilantes

Dear Mom,

today I used our new vacuum cleaner!
You will be glad to know it does great on the carpets and bare flooring. It's a bit awkward for use on walls.
I'll have to try out the hose attachment next time.
Or a duster.

I vacuumed your bedroom. I hope you don't keep anything important and small on the floor! ...because it is gone.

The vacuum cleaner seems to be adjusting well, aside from a little indigestion. Hopefully now we've cleared the backlog of dust-bunnies out he'll have no further culture shock, and the occasional gravel piece will go down without too much trouble.

Hope you're traveling worry-free with me at the helm of Starship Powellclan!

Love, BN


***

My mom is on Epic Powell Roadtrip #4 of this year, which means I am keeping house for her three children and my dad. I will be posting humorous updates as they occur to me while doing more mundane tasks.

I can smell autumn coming.

Every year I sense it approaching and get shivery, waiting.
This year I enjoyed the summer, oddly enough, and still I am waiting for it.

The colors, the smells, the symbols. Layering clothes, rotting leaves, the burdens of harvest, I like it all.


NaNo is coming, too. I feel like doing it, though I don't know *why*. Or what. Maybe if I get the first Pirate book written, and it seems like it's going to be the right size, I can do the next in November. Hmm...



oh, and there was this...
A bit of book review, in the form of a video showing off my newest yarn project based on a literary character...

Thornmallow, of Jane Yolen's Wizard's Hall

m_stiefvater   has a great post on why reading YA is in no way a "teens only" domain: The Relevance of YA to Non-Teens

(Maggie's book Shiver, sequel to Lament, debuted at #9 on the NYT Bestseller List this week, fyi.)

She pretty much sums up why I avoid most "normal" (adult-geared) fiction, and embrace even good picture books in my reading diet. And articulates it better than I have been able to so far.


...I mean, the "why" besides the obvious fetish for toy cars and Wonka-type worlds.




Speaking of bright colors...
I'm writing a synopsis for Poisson today. I like writing them, even though they tend to emerge at a snail's pace.

One of the short-list agents requires them, and there's another who may. So. I'm not quite ready to ship pieces of my heart into the wide world just yet.

Also colorful, look at what I got in my Ravelry "Folklore and Fairytales" group swap:


The roving and book are both more awesome than they look. You'll hear more from me later...

My mother wears glasses. I have a fuzzy memory of realizing she looked different, and kind of strange to me, without them on at a very young age. I wasn't tiny, though, since I was becoming observant of that kind of thing

But apparently not too observant.


I assumed until a few days ago that she saw just fine while she was wearing her glasses.

Now, recently she had to update her prescription, so I knew that she didn't always see wonderfully even when the glasses were on.
My dad (and brother) don't like her to drive at night. Another clue.

It had never once occurred to me, though, when I found dishes that were still a little dirty, or places that were terribly dusty, getting annoyed they never got cleaned, that she might not be able to...see them.



...Am I blind or what?

I love reading comics where when it goes to a kiss-approach you think, "This can't possibly go well..."

Just because you know it *has* to be interrupted, usually disastrously.
Plus, also, I Approve of Gilgamesh growing fangs.



...BTW,
I'm having a free-shipping sale on my yarn.
Heat Wave Retail Therapy! @ GOSSAMERSONG

Tell your friends. Especially if they use yarn. ^_^



I sold my Raven King yarn, not a week after uploading. Which is AWESOME, but I will miss it. my post about it
I probably shouldn't be so loving toward these things.

My list of hopeful projects (geekiness ensues!) is also at that blog.
Sesshoumaru may be born as a batt tomorrow...

Also, Thornmallow, from this book par excellance:

In the vein of random thoughts,
at Tokyo in Tulsa, I saw a guy in a very striking costume--he looked great. I can't tell you if he was particularly good looking because his make-up was INTENSE. But he carried off the intensity very well.

But it started me thinking...though I'm not photogenic, I think I would make a pretty good costuming doll.
My coloring, particularly, would be fun to use as part of a character design.
(Sometime I'll have to show you the two shots I took of myself in which one is a self-portrait and one is a portrait of me as Tilda Swinton. Just by a slight angle change...)


Things I read Worth Reading lately:


( Why? )

At Tokyo in Tulsa [TnT] my friend found a *fabulous* Sesshoumaru tapestry. Genuinely beautiful. One of the girls in our roving band was saying something about how cool he was, though he lost an arm, and I went...

Me: !...!...!
Me: No, that is WHY he is cool!

This is one of those early-formed ideas that probably makes no sense to many people, I realized as my internal squee peaked out, leaving me incoherent. (I had forgotten about his arm, how do we forget these things?)

  It's the wounds that do it...

I killed off three likely young men in the space of five pages for that kind of glamour. (Annihilating a royal line while I was at it. Very tragic.) {This was a long time ago.}

As a child, I picked my scabs sneakily to try and acquire scars from my minor scratches. WOE, it is now revealed that this can facilitate regrowth without scar tissue.



Anyway, despite baiting as if I had a heady passion for Sesshoumaru, and a subsequent volunteered search for the other not-so-pretty tapestry of him, I had no desire to buy pictures of him. Like the Legolas poster hidden in my closet, there are some characters you just don't change in front of. (If you're silly like me.)

I did buy some Soot Sprite pins!



It must be that spirit of overcoming...

Frex, I'm fragile.

Hopefully tomorrow at Tokyo in Tulsa I won't be the Shy Mopey Girl, though since I'm not dressing up...
It's harder when I'm not play-acting.

I want to go to meet people, but the thing about this cyber age is that people don't really want to meet other people randomly in person. It's more uncomfortable.

How could you create a T-shirt target that means:
Yes, I'd like to chat intelligently
No, I'm not as young as I look and
Please don't take my default look of whatever-it-is to mean I am an intimidating person

But this has been waiting for me to post it, forever.

Cultural note to make this more immediately comprehensible: in Japan, almost all stores you bag your own groceries. This is feasible, because they are on the Old World schedule of buying groceries every day or so. You can walk or bike with them easily that way.

Of course, though my mom happily converted, bringing home groceries for 7 was still rather a parade...


The Artist's Distraction



I so know that feeling, babe.

An a cappella production: completely stunning:



This is the kind of art that makes you wanna gnash your teeth, grab people by the throat and demand why they aren't participating in art, or at least ask that heart-breaking question:

If humans can make this, why do they devote so much to destruction?


But only because it is so amazing.
Good work, Slovenia!

It's raining pretty hard here: I don't think we had any plans for going out anyway (except for cooking out) but I'm kinda happy about it.

I finished the band break-up story last night, and am working on the one that opens:

“I won't keep that promise,” he said.
Bead ran her hand down the cow's warm, coarse-haired flank, drawing her bucket out slowly to not startle the animal.
“Oh?” she asked. “You'll let the Commons go hang, the people, the gardens, your barn? Just over the one thing they asked you for? Well. That's smart.”
“The one little thing they asked for was my daughter. In the enemy's war camp.”


I also want to spin up the rest of my Raven King's first ply. *squeee*

Etsy Finds II



what would a whisper look like Print (left)
by zuppaartista who is definitely doing her bit to bring a little more beauty into the world.

Dawn on the Water Necklace (right)
by aj1801aj who has some other stuff that is too classy for me, but I *wants*

Now, those are just beautiful things I'd love to have. Here's a real resource though, for your geeky jewelry needs:

From bunnylogic



Lego Tire Earrings (left)
Lego Clone Commander CUFFLINKS (center)
Rubik's Cube Necklace (right)

*LOVE*

On Friday, Jesse realized that the band was dead to him.
On Saturday, they were in Texas again and he got on the stage with an electric smile.

What was sickening was that it felt just the same as the last two years up there: it had been dead and he hadn't even known.

I posted this once a while ago and had to dig it up from the backlog when I decided to write the story yesterday. (It's tweaked for grammatical excellence, now.)

I haven't been writing anything much, which feels odd. I need to kick this Internet and coffee dependency, because I think I'm killing myself off slowly with them, in terms of writing. This morning my computer wasn't online and I went almost crazy, even though I was already ricocheting between a book, a spinning project*, and writing the story.

I am so not to be left to my own devices.

But, I will being Going to Work, Monday, which is fascinating and strange. (Not that I have a job, I've been called in to Dan's. But it may lead to one?) Maybe that will help my resolution? My constitutional fortitude must eventually pitch in and actually do the thing, though.


I'm de-junking my mind right now, and I'm a little more aware of Teh Crazeee. Sorry about that...


*Oh, the spinning project is a tribute to the Raven King. It's gonna be amazing. I hope.

I think yesterday I had burned through all my nervous energy becoming a submissions fiend, and was left just with the nerves.

Today I have no desire to see Bora Bora, especially not with a stranger.
Instead, I sent a story out for the...nine, tenth time. Wore a baseball hat for the first time in probably 7 years. Started typing in the new scene for The Carnie's Conspiracy.

Do you think it's too early to start actually packing for the trip next Friday?

>,<

(You would not believe the ratio on pictures of me:me travelling)


For Your Entertainment Value:

Editing Letter --a song that not only lampoons the agonies of  revisions, but also music videos in general. (Or at least, in my eyes, it does.)
   ~via Janet Reid?


And, tomorrow night at Cappaccino Corner is Open Mic Night. I'll be there, singing!



Like-a-this.

INTERNE~T, YOU ARE BO~RING ME~...

This is obviously a plan to thwart me in wasting a perfectly good work day.
*~curses~*
It is about this time in the Virtual Reality lifecycle that I have the overwhelming desire to start a new blog.
And have a name for it.

(You *do* realize it is nigh on impossible to not do things once you have the right name.)


THIS MAY BE MORE SERIOUS THAN YOU REALIZE

And this restlessness is manifesting as a Hydra: I also think of changing my own name,  (on Facebook, at least). Of marrying money and moving to Bora Bora.
{Not really the marrying part. Though I'm always open to negotiation.)

I probably should be keeping a record of this Rolling Stone Syndrome (I mean in real life, too). It may be interesting to see how long my internal clock thinks my world should change.
My average on duration-of-residence is going up the longer I stay in OK, but it's still much less than two years.

15:23. Yup. That may be a few higher on the moves side than is accurate, but *only* a few.

OF ALL THE NEUROSES, IT HAD TO BE THIS ONE

It's probably slightly less than 6 mos., the psyche throwing up a probe, to feel out the environs, to check whether a change is in the air. If not, it goes back to sleep, and I am left with restless energy that wants me to become a warrior monk in the middle 1300s, or something.

I begin to wonder if Providence is out to keep me from playing to type. I'm pretty sure no one would instinctively peg me for an itchy-feet impulsive type, and yet...

It just occurred to me to make a list of all the times I've bolted for Elsewhere since moving to OK.
Aaaand, evidence has it that I've enabled myself to throw bait to my wanderlust about every 6 months.
weird.



I feel wicked guilty, wanting to be Elsewhere. I like working for Conestoga, I love the writer's group I go to, I am devoted to the library I go to with a passion that probably embarrasses people with less natural dumb enthusiasm. But it's driving me crazy.

I know, you didn't sign up to be my Nomadicism Support Group. It's okay, it comes with the package deal.

So it's been precisely a month since Conestoga. I am putting up pictures of that, supplemented with some I took while figuring out my Asian cowpunk costume.



( A few more... )


Well, these photos aren't going to make my name as a photographer, and the costume looked about as undecided as it sounds, but...I have no regrets!



the composition of this photo was mostly accidental, but humorous all the same.