New ottoman and non-Shakespeare

Yesterday, Matthew and I did our part in getting money circulating into the economy. We bought a matching ottoman for our new couch! Yay! Okay, maybe not everyone finds the prospect of new furniture as exciting as I do. Moving right along . . .

We also went to the Shakespeare Tavern to see their late night play “Tales of Terror and Fancy.” They did a storyteller’s version of three shorts: “The Book of Blood” by Clive Barker, “The Happy Prince” by Oscar Wilde, and “Sikes and Nancy” by Charles Dickens. Very Halloweeny. I liked “The Happy Prince” the best. I’ve loved that fairy tale since I first read it as a wee lass, and Oscar Wilde is one of my favorite authors. “The Book of Blood” was nicely eerie. Clive Barker does a distinctive brand of horror that has great ambiance, although like a lot of writers, I think he’s extremely variable. I was less impressed by “Sikes and Nancy” as I thought it ran a bit long, but I’m not really big on Dickens, so that might account for it. It was still all very well done, an enjoyable show. And they’ve added sour cream coffee cake to their late night menu. Mmm.

This late night thing is new for the Shakespeare Tavern this season. Show time is 11 PM after a regular-timed play. The next one is another Wilde play, “Salome.” Again, one of my favorites. I’m curious to see how they’re going to do the Dance of the Seven Veils. “Partial nudity,” they warn in their write-up.

Autumn skunk, Scooby-Doo, and catharsis

This week has been chock full of brisk days and chilly nights. I’ve gotten soft, my friends from the Midwest tell me. They’re already getting frozen precipitation. I’m not sure if they mean snow or hail; I’m afraid to ask. But I’ve started piling on the sweaters and pulling the covers up around my neck.

Hobkin’s loving it. With the house this cold, he’s gotten downright frisky, prone to tearing around doing “skunk laps” with his tail straight up behind him. Occasionally he stops to stomp whatever happens to get in his way–me, Matthew, the couch–before galloping off again. Absolutely adorable. He’s also picked up a few new tricks. He’s discovered how to pry the speaker covers (that cloth mesh stuff) off the big speakers in the living-room and how to sneak into the fish tank cabinet. The former problem we have temporarily resolved by tying the speakers with string. I suspect we will need to move them out of his reach. As for the latter, we need to move the fish tank+cabinet closer to the wall so he can’t squeeze in behind it, which is where he’s getting access. I keep expecting him to figure out how to open the refrigerator next, a talent that skunks are renown for.

We rented and watched Scooby-Doo last night. Surprisingly, it didn’t suck. Again, I probably would have felt less generous about the film if I’d seen it at the theater, but I guess I had lower expectations for this one, ’cause I actually enjoyed it. A pleasant surprise. And SMG continues to be a cutie.

Managed to crank out 1500 words on my catharsis story. My DC2K writers group decided at our chat to push the deadline back to the 21st on the Halloween story. So maybe after I finish the catharsis one, I can get back on track. However, 1500 more words is more than I had expected the other story needing. And it’s not done yet. I’ve written everything except the very apex of the climax so I know exactly how it’s going to go. I can almost taste finished story. But it’s at 7500 words.

I really didn’t think this concept merited 7500 words. Part of it, I console myself, is that the story is very heavy with dialogue, which bumps the word-count. But perhaps I got a bit self-indulgent in the graphically violent scenes. I definitely need to go in and see if I can’t do some chopping. But I think I’ll finish it first.

On a slight tangent, I got an email from a person I’d never met before who has been lurking at my journal and website. She has shared interests–a pet skunk, sci-fi, writing/reading–and is sad that I’ve gone friends only ’cause she doesn’t have an LJ and isn’t planning on starting one. But she also understands why I did it, and sympathizes. She just wanted to drop me a note of support and best wishes.

Sigh. I like meeting new people this way, dammit. It’s not fair that I have to put up with abuse if I want a public blog.

May all stalker’s have their eyeballs spontaneously combust and their hands rot off with gangrene. Actually, let’s just broaden the scope of my little curse there to “all assholes” and have done with it.

Caffeine = muse food

Okay, my brief foray into going caffeine-free has ended, dismally and with little fanfare.

After three steaming cups of Java last night:
4000 words on my “catharsis” story.
200 words–kicking and screaming and spitting in my face, on the Halloween story.

Woof.

I’m a better writer as a caffeine addict. Or, at least, a more prolific one. Sigh.

On an up note, I am within 1000 words of finishing a story (not, mind you, the one I have a deadline for), something I have been unable to do in more weeks than I’m comfortable speculating upon.

Buffy, Relish, and waiting

Buffy last night was . . . okay. It didn’t suck, although the ** Minor Spoiler Alert!** “Cassandra as the prophetess whom no one believed” has been done before. A lot. But it wasn’t all that memorable either. I think I’ll lump it into that selection of episodes that were fun, but not all that deep. Although I liked Cassie’s final words to both Buffy and Spike. The implication that Buffy did or would love Spike in the future was nicely titillating. Go, Spike! If I haven’t said this before, I’m an uber Spike fan. ** /Minor Spoiler Alert!**

And I got a note from the publisher of Planet Relish. I didn’t get the Fiction Editor position, but he said he’d like to keep my info on file for future openings. Apparently, the other candidate wrote more encouraging rejection letters than me. *Sigh* But I can only be so bummed about it. While it would have been lotso fun and fabu experience, it would have been a huge drain on my time, not to mention the no money part. Oh well. Maybe next turn of the wheel.

And the 15th has come and gone, and I haven’t heard a peep out of Phobos! Yesterday was when they were supposed to let us finalists know who made the final cut and who didn’t. I’ve checked their website (something like a hundred times yesterday) and checked all my writers groups/networks/boards ad nauseum, and no one’s said anything. And I’m thinking I would have gotten wind of something if there were any updates. I know two of the other finalists who frequent the Rumor Mill and a few of the others are friends with someone in my DC2K writers group. So I’m thinking that since the culling to the final twenty was late by about four days, it bumped this deadline by the same time frame. Maybe? Urg.

And so the waiting continues. Wah!

Sunday in review

Yesterday we meant to go to the Fantasm director’s meeting. Apologies to yakdog et al. for missing it. Between one thing and another, we lost track of Sunday and by the time we realized “oh wait, wasn’t that supposed to be today?” it was too late. Bad Fosters. No Biscuit.

We did rent and watch the Scorpion King . Um. Again, I’m glad we didn’t pay to see this one at the theater. It was very Conan-esque. And, while both Matthew and I liked Conan, this just didn’t work for me. I think Matthew liked it better than I did. Scratch that. I’m sure Matthew liked it better than me. Guess I had a hard time getting over the questionable plot holes in the writing. The sorceress was lovely, though.

I believe it was J. Michael Stazinski who said that being a film director means that you will never be able to sit back and enjoy a movie ever again. You’ll forever be analyzing what’s happening, either criticizing it for its flaws, or trying to figure out why the parts that worked did. I’m feeling like that about the script writing whenever I watch movies or TV shows these days. I find myself going “Now that’s just awful. I could do better than that” or “Wow, that’s really inspired. What’s he/she doing that’s so right?”

New episode of Angel last night. Is it me, or is Joss’ Buffyverse getting a bit crowded? Vampires, demons, werewolves, and witches. Okay. Fine. **Minor Spoiler Alert!** But now we’ve got mutants? Between X-men, Mutant X, and now Birds of Prey, I’m getting a bit tired of the whole “meta human” thing. They’re certainly doing more with Fred’s character, though. I like that she’s such a dichotomy: frail and strong. But I’m worried they’re going overboard with her. I liked her best when she was a quirky thing with a hidden backbone of steel. Her burst of hysteria after Gunn’s brush with death, while understandable, didn’t feel right. **/Minor Spoiler Alert!**

On the writing front:
Argh! Maybe 100 words? The Halloween story is just jammed and does not want to come out. Part of it is that I’m waffling on styles. It starts out as a fairly traditional dark fantasy tale: an eldritch night, a spell, and fey folk. Then it turns into some fluffy YA thing. And now it’s metamorphosed into a horror story, complete with evisceration and gore. I need to finish something. I haven’t completed a story in weeks and weeks! *kicks muse*

All things considered . . .

This hasn’t been a bad weekend. After the week I had, I expected this to be more of the same, but actually, it’s been pretty good.

We got the Buffy: the Musical soundtrack yesterday on CD. That was just the most amazing Buffy episode. Okay, I don’t usually post lyrics, but this one’s real short. It’s the “Parking Ticket” song.
Some of the words were talked over in the show itself so I wanted to share it with any Buffy fans who haven’t heard the whole thing:

I’ve been having a bad, bad day.
C’mon won’t you put that pad away?
I’m asking you please no,
It isn’t right it isn’t fair,
There was no parking anywhere.
I think that hydrant wasn’t there.

Why can’t you let it go?
I think I’ve paid more than my share,
I’m just a poor girl don’t you care?
Hey, I’m not wearing underwear . . .

Hee! Joss Whedon’s just amazing isn’t he?

And Matthew and I went to the Shakespeare Tavern to see Macbeth last night. We’re season ticket holders–“club” members–so we get preferential seating. Yesterday, we sat in the very front. Right up against the stage. I think next time we’ll use our “preferential seating” to sit a little further back. We got major close-ups of all the actor’s footwear and now I’ve got a crick in my neck. But on an up side, the action scenes were very intense. And, as usual, the food was fantastic. Footwear close-up or no, they put on an excellent Macbeth. Spooky Weird Sisters, pyrotechnic special effects, ghosts, blood, murder, and a fog machine. An excellent Halloween play!

I need to see about getting tickets to the Spooky Puppetry Theater play that glenn5 is doing. Our friends Paul and Nick are coming down to visit over Halloween week and we think it’d be a good way to start things out.

And I’m still all glowy about my recent fiction sale. The anthology is coming out in trade-paperback. I’m very excited ’bout it.

For the Record

Since I’ve been getting more traffic here, I think it’s a good opportunity to set the record straight.

Here’s the deal. If you have a personal grudge against me for an altercation on LJ, that’s you own beef. For the most part, I try to be pleasant and civil in online debates, but anyone can have a day when their emotions get the better of them and they don’t hit the *DELETE* key but rather the *UPDATE* one, especially when it’s something they feel strongly about.

However, the person behind the website Livejournal.us, has a personal vendetta against me for no reason. He trolled through to my journal and posted vicious, racist, sexist, and defamatory commentary. Then, when I and my friends became, as he intended, angered at his antics, he began a cyberstalker campaign against us.

For the record, for anyone who might be of the “it was all in good fun, y’all overreacted” camp, here’s some background and a few direct quotes from this individual, who, incidentally, has had at least three accounts suspended by LJ Abuse for the nature of his posts. And not just to me and my friends, but to a large number of LJ users.

How it began:
I posted in my journal that I was four rejections away from my 100th, which, as most writers know, is a milestone. Not the nicest milestone in a writer’s career, but one nevertheless.

His reply:
“More practice required must be pretty awful writing if you’re getting scores that bad.”

I responded. Let me ask you, if you did something you cared about, wouldn’t you be angered at someone who you’d never met before, never heard of, who came wandering by and told you that you sucked? Out of the blue? I’m human. I did. I told him to, amongst other things, go away.

One of my friends, mouseferatu responded to him in like kind as well.

He then went to mouseferatu‘s journal and posted more abuse. Neither of us saved that, but in some strange attempt to escalate this–to get between us, perhaps?–this cyberstalker used HTML to overlay anonymous posts so that they appeared as though his comments came from mouseferatu.

We both banned him.

Any normal, non-stalker person would have gotten the clue that he was not welcome and would have left us alone.

Instead, he surfed to an LJ community I’m a member of until he found an entry I had responded to and accused me of being such a poor writer that I was a plagiarist and then went to my homepage’s guestbook to reiterate his accusation. It should go without saying that I’m not a plagiarist. When confronted for evidence to back up this defamatory accusation, he had nothing to say.

It turns out that he also accused xxsuigenerisxx of plagiarism. Her crime? Posting a thank you note in her journal to her friends. According to this cyberstalker, thank you notes have been done before, so anyone who writes one now is a plagiarist. This dialogue was taken up in his journal, the one which he kept as abdulsharif, and when it was obvious that even his friends disagreed with his definition of “plagiarism” he deleted the whole comment history and made his entry “no comments.”

He then then went through my friends list, and when he found a post from silicates in her journal, to me, he commented “Eugie is an idiot. An idiotic bitch!”

Since this cyberstalker’s accounts were suspended, much of his word-for-word vitriol has been lost. But some of his victims kept a smattering of evidence backed up.

So, here are some direct quotes from this individual directed to myself and my friends. All in good fun, or mean, spiteful, hate-filled, racist, and sexist? You decide.

Re: Asians and Asian women
“They’ve lived up to every stereotype image that I know of: physically, intellectually and socially”

“You react to criticisms like a typical Asian-immigrant woman who gets offended when her English is even slightly criticized.”

“I’ve never seen an asian goth and YET you try to be one. What’s that loser goth conference you attended and wrote about? Try to stay within your cultural boundaries and don’t be what you’re not. Put on a bright red dragon suit and prance around the streets of chinatown. That’s more like it.”

Racism in general:
“I would be just as disgusted and say the same thing if I saw a white guy working as a chef at a Mexican restaurant.”

General abuse:
“Do you feel like you always have the last say? Have you ever had a boyfriend?”

“And you’re so fucking ugly.”

“She likes to “pretend that she’s a writer but that’s a farce. She picks out words from a dictionary, throws them in a blender and then dumps the mixture out on a plate and then tries to form coherent sentences out of the slop. That’s her style of writing. In other words…… it’s all bullshit and doesn’t make any sense, they may as well be bad haiku written in kanji.”

“Sounds like a dog’s name, btw” (That would be with regard to my name, incidentally.)

And then there was the email spamming of obscene pictures to threads I had either begun or responded to in LJ communities I am a member of.

Let me state again that this individual sought me and my friends out, apparently looking to get a rise out of us. We didn’t attack him; we defended ourselves.

I’m disabling comments on this. I’m not trying to garner opinions or support, and I’m certainly not looking for more abuse. What I want is for this cyberstalker to leave me alone.

The one good thing that has come out of all this ugliness is that I have realized that there are some wonderful people out there. Despite what this cyberstalker has said to the contrary, I did not ask my friends to rally to my defense. They did so out of a sense of indignation, loyalty, and decency. I am grateful to have such a group of people that I may call friends.