So long at the fair. . .

horrors, oohing, and recs

Wed, 16 Dec 2009 17:06:02 GMT

Horror #1: so-called unicorn on Etsy. My own reaction was a distinctly un-eloquent "What the -- EWW!" (which is rich, considering my own reputation for sick nonsense). My favorite reaction has been LJ:hugh_mannity's "Fair enough use of a stillborn lamb, but the horn's just wrong." (I wish he was kidding. Again, EWWW.)

Horror #2: Reading the plot of Anne of Green Gables: A New Beginning. Again, kinda rich coming from me, given how I have no qualms about inflicting character death and alternate universe in my own fanfic. But still, I thought "A Continuing Story" was dreadful from start to end (with the sole exception of Anne and Gilbert's reunion clinch), and this sounds like more of the same. Ergggggh.

Ooh-ing: The Blythes Are Quoted. I read the old edition of The Road to Yesterday back in high school, and that there's now more - ooh, yes. *adds to wishlist*

Rec #1: The Howling Moon at Snupin Santa. NC-17, 17K, warnings for "underage sexual activity among same-age teens, frottage, oral, hand-job, dub/non-con, bestiality/werewolf sex, angst, smoking." Author notes that "this story diverges from canon around the time of the Shrieking Shack incident, for reasons which will (hopefully) be apparent from the text." Why it stood out for me: outstanding portrayal of Severus/Lily friendship (there's a scene where they do the best-friends-making-out thing, and it's awesome), inventive plotting, and a lovely imagining of a happier alternate storyline.

Rec #2: Veiled Christmas at Kinky Kristmas. NC-17, 4555 words, kinks/Themes include "threesomes, bondage, gags, cockrings, pegging, piercing, voyeurism, breathplay, cockgagging, dirty talk, facials, and pervy use of the Death Chamber and Veil." Author's summary: "Teddy has finally found an intimate connection to his parents -- in the Department of Mysteries. Victoire, on the other hand, has found an entertaining idea of what to do with it." Hands-down THE filthiest fic I've read this season so far (*watches half of friendslist immediately scamper off*), and Victoire is so much a chip off the old cursebreaker. This exchange between her and Teddy (as she's ordering him to strip) made me laugh out loud:

"I used two Hittite locking charms, one Mayan, and one Etruscan. I do not think they will come in here even if they had cause."

" 'Less they called your Da," he commented as he let his trousers fall to the ground. The realization of what he said and what it would mean hit him like a brick to the face about three seconds later.

Persephone in Tel Aviv

Tue, 15 Dec 2009 15:11:28 GMT

So, maybe you remember how I was thinking of riffing on "Lay All Your Love on Me" to get it out of my system?

Here.

:-)

signal boost: schooling LJ on the un-binariness of gender

Tue, 15 Dec 2009 07:08:02 GMT

http://synecdochic.dreamwidth.org/366609.html

about

http://community.livejournal.com/changelog/7932846.html

In a nutshell: Mandatory gender specification on deck. If you'd rather not see that happen, now's the time to change your settings, speak up, etc.

ETA 12/15 8:39 AM CST: Parsing the response from the LJCCT:
http://synecdochic.dreamwidth.org/366609.html?thread=16696593#cmt16696593
http://synecdochic.dreamwidth.org/366609.html?thread=16707857#cmt16707857

(Short version: '...you do not write error messages that say "You need to specify a gender" by accident.')

ETA 12/15 12:48 AM CST: Code has been rolled back. Props to everyone who read and responded.

a bit of archiving

Sun, 13 Dec 2009 22:20:56 GMT

As a gesture to the holiday spirit I'm not quite feeling yet (*rueful sigh*), I uploaded A Face of Faith to the Archive of Our Own just now. I am tickled that there were already "Hanukkah," "Pesach," and "Rosh Hashanah" tags ready for me to use.

Also, I really dig the "import by url" function, and I'm impressed by how well it's worked with both the Snupin Santa archive and my InsaneJournal posts - in some instances, the program has been able to ID the rating, fandom, summary, notes, and characters without me c/p-ing them into the proper fields, and that's wicked cool as well. (It would probably do so even more consistently if I weren't so ~~cutesy~~ idiosyncratic about my headers to begin with. Not to mention my extended residencies in the upper levels of marginaliana's Batshit-o-Meter for crossovers...)

Anyhow, earlier today, I also uploaded all the Wimseyfic and Wimsey-related fic I've written to date, with the exceptions of

the Placet series

assorted parodies posted to the The List a decade ago

stories in the Suite universe (primarily Dark Is Rising, but with a Wimsey descendant and cameo appearances by Bunter). I'd forgotten how many little ficlets there were, and I need to mull over about how best to organize and link them.

other stray drabbles buried in the recesses of inactive comms

"Between Night and Dawn" - my very first Snape/Lupin fic, and well, let's just say my storytelling has improved since then and leave it at that.

AO3 still being in development, the fandom filters aren't quite in full kilter yet, so half of my fics aren't appearing when one looks up "Lord Peter Wimsey - Sayers." Which is somewhat maddening, since the invisible pieces include Bringing His Lordship Around and the villanelles I wrote for marginaliana - i.e., the pieces I most want newer readers to find. On the bright side, they do at least appear for folks looking up Ribbons.

Lack of holiday spirit notwithstanding, I did perk up a bit when I reread Ubi sunt gaudia, in a "hey, I wrote that! Not bad..." sort of way. And I owe someone a poem that should have gone into the mail yesterday. So, off to the dining room table...

shrieks at current plotzilla

Sun, 13 Dec 2009 04:23:43 GMT

WAIT, WHAT DO YOU MEAN THERE ARE THREE MORE SCENES???

overlapping obsessions

Sun, 13 Dec 2009 00:33:41 GMT

Cliff Richard's cover of "Lay All Your Love On Me" is far too unspeakably twee for my taste -- but I do love that he changes "smoking" to "tennis" in the line "you've heard me say that smoking is my only vice." And the smirky ball-pop sound he makes at the change, okay, that's nicely done as well.

Sauce and Haas are on the list of players planning to show up in Memphis. This makes me super-happy in a packing-my-best-knickers-even-though-no-one-there-will-see-them way. ;-) (The BYM is not into watching other people bounce, pass, toss, spin, or whack yellow/orange/brown/green balls for hours on end. Alas.)

Stayed up past 4 a.m. to wrestle with the current, out-of-nowhere plotbunny. I ~~may be~~ am a trifle loopier than usual, but I'm also at 1539 words and counting, go me!

Also, I really, really need to restock our fridge (we're out of juice, bread, and eggs), but there be Santas rampaging between me and the grocery stores at the moment, so I'm outright hiding from them until they get themselves downtown. (Of course I haven't been a good girl this year. Derr.)

FICLET: Running, They Never Run From It Away (Bujold/Sayers)

Wed, 09 Dec 2009 21:23:37 GMT

Nineveh-uk, a rustle in the branches mentioned it being your birthday. I fear that St. George/Charles remains beyond me, but hope Ivan/Jerry will do as a token offering.

Title: Running, They Never Run From It Away (pace Donne)
Pairing: Ivan Vorpatril/the 17th Duke of Denver (Viscount St. George in Wimsey canon)
Rating: G
Words: 178
Premise: I don't subscribe to the apocrypha that St. George bought it in WWII. At any rate, imagine both lads in their late 30s, a friendship developing over periodic hops in space/time by Lord Vorpatril...

Ivan Vorpatril allowed himself to shiver once the door closed behind his companion's visitors. When Jerry raised an eyebrow at him, he said, "Your uncle's manservant. He reminds me a little too much of my cousin Gregor."

"Oh? Does this Gregor mercilessly drench you in a cold, silent shower of you can do better than thises every time he sets eyes on you?" The words were as light as spun sugar, and as brittle as candy glass.

"He doesn't bother with the you can do betters," Ivan said, his shoulders still hunched up. "These days, he just sends me onto the next 'little job' he needs done before I even get out a 'hello.'"

Jerry sidled over to Ivan's chair, casually seating himself on one of the antique armrests. "Saying 'no' isn't an option?"

Ivan said, helplessly, "It was what I was born to do."

Jerry glanced at the coat of arms on the firescreen, the familiar cat and three mice courant forever mocking him. He placed his hands on Ivan's shoulders as he murmured, "I really do understand."

two fest recs, one outright squee, and the usual moaning

Tue, 08 Dec 2009 19:19:46 GMT

The recs (both by currently anon):

Open Hand
Nc-17, Snape/Lupin, 6000 words
Author's summary: After the war, Severus must decide whether or not he wants to pick up where he left off with Remus, and Remus helps him make up his mind.
Author's warnings: not canon compliant in that Snape and Lupin survive the war and Teddy isn't Remus' biological child, mutual masturbation, use of Legilimency during sex, desperation, established relationship
Ribbons's reaction: Superb hurt-comfort, dry humor, a Remus equal to Severus
Excerpt:

"...the media are portraying you as a redeemed anti-hero," Remus said, amusement lacing his voice. "A wizarding version of Heathcliff, if you will."

Severus rolled his eyes at that and gave an annoyed huff.

"Well, you are tall, dark, and broody," Remus pointed out. "I dare say you'll have women flinging their knickers at you after this, eager to help you forget the lingering memory of your doomed and tragic love for Lily."

Remus was giving him a pointed look, and Severus tried not to appear sheepish as he glanced away and picked idly at the bed sheets, grateful he couldn't talk at the moment.

"Admit it: you were trying to rattle Harry even in your almost-dying moments."

Severus grimaced and nodded, silently damning Remus for knowing him too well.

Amor Vitae
Rating: PG-13, gen, 5K
Character(s): Flitwick, McGonagall, Snape, Moody, Lupin
Author's summary: "Some people wonder why Filius Flitwick is always so cheerful at Christmas"
Ribbons's reaction: I have a soft spot for fics that give Flitwick his due, and this one does so in a way that's both heartbreaking (I was in tears by the end) and hopeful (as befits the season). The author is deft with both characterization and revelation, and rereading it, I keep admiring how s/he shows you what's just happened without over-detailing or over-dialoguing it, if that makes sense.
Excerpt (and yes, I'm conscious this bit doesn't mention Flitwick at all, but it's the first, short, non-spoilery part that best illustrates why I'll be rereading this story):

"Anyone else for tea?" Minerva snapped her book shut and got up from her armchair by the fireplace.

"Not me, thanks," Remus said as he slumped down on the lumpy sofa.

"What you call tea should be a Class A tradable substance," Alastor Moody growled. "But I'll have some if you're making it anyway. And how often have I told you to take your wand with you, even if you go to the kitchen?"

Minerva pursed her lips and shoved her wand between the folds of her robes.

"TIP DOWN! You wouldn't be the first witch to lose a..."

He was reduced to silence by the arched eyebrow that every British witch or wizard under the age of thirty-eight knew to interpret as a danger sign. "Thank you for your concern, Alastor, but not everybody handles their wand with such brute force that they blow off their..."

"I think I may have some tea after all," Remus said and got up from the sofa. He was still rather new to the Order of the Phoenix.

A side-note: I learned about both these fics through the recs of other fans (in this case, lore and pale-moonlite respectively). Please, please comment on the ones you enjoy (even a one-word YES! warms the cockles of most writers' hearts) and rec if/when you are able (even if it's months later) - it means so much to the creators, and it is, in the end, our only means of rewarding them for sharing their gifts.

The outright squee: LJ: opalmatrix's Appetizing: FAKE, Ryo/Dee, PG-13, 675 words. Prompt was "kissing someone to shut them up - eggplant." GLEE!

The moan:

Saints and saeurbraten, the fic-I-am-not-really-working-on-yet is ALREADY being a mejorama epic PAIN IN THE ASS. (And that's without a single mention of cows. Or cream. Yet, anyway.)

Ok, back to work now. *shoves out-of-control outline into duffel bag and slams the locker door shut, panting*

I may not be able to stop myself...

Mon, 07 Dec 2009 23:14:08 GMT

...from quoting this line from USA Today when it's time to wrassle with my next tennis plotbunny:

Rarely has the men's game had such thick cream at the top.

(I'll at least refrain from working in dubious and/or vicious jokes about Juliette the cow. Maybe. The problem is that now that the idea's occurred to me, the anti-guardian angel is already cooing potential punchlines into my ear. Have I mentioned lately that I hate my brain?)

ETA: Cows lick home, owner calls police. Ribbons contemplates writing a scene in which a herd of house-munching cows interrupt hot top-and-cream action between two prominent tennis players. ...Ribbons suspects recipient of fic would justifiably come after her with an electric prod for answering a perfectly serious prompt with udderly mooronic comedy. *dodges boots and soggy mittens, gets back to work*

For those of you who wrote Hadron Collider porn last year. You know who you are.

Mon, 07 Dec 2009 04:10:01 GMT

conCERNed: the game of fixing the LHC and avoiding the blame

(...which reminds me, I need to archive that Whomping Willow/Snape drabble, don't I. *adds to the to-do kudzu list*)

quick Snupin recs

Sun, 06 Dec 2009 21:35:43 GMT

My favorites so far (all anon @ Snupin Santa):

A Picture of Success
PG-13, 11K, warnings for "implied prostitution, violence (though nothing worse than canon)."
Giftee's prompt: "Snape and Lupin assigned to work together to find some arcane artifact for the Order."
What Ribbons liked about it: mucho action, competent Remus, great use of a guest star, sneaky dark humor
Excerpt:

"So if any rumours do reach the Order, what do you want me to say?"

"Tell them I'm a good fuck," Snape said dryly, tossing a handful of Floo powder into the fireplace, and disappeared into the flames.

No Greater Love
R, 9K, warnings for "Warnings: Torture, suicide, character death"
Author's summary: "When Remus learns that Severus has been spying on Voldemort all along and that he'll be executed at the next full moon, he embarks on a dangerous rescue mission into an England reigned by Voldemort to save the man he loves. On that mission, he receives help from the most unlikely people – and ends up saving not only Severus."
Ribbons' reaction: beautifully plotted, inventive use of magic, deft characterization (in a story where there characters are continually on the cliff-edge of who they should(n't) trust)
Excerpt:

"I don't believe one word you're saying," he tells Peter, or whoever it is.

"I know. But I’m sure you have Veritaserum, don't you?"

Of course Remus does. It’s expensive and hard to get, but usually, all of them manage to keep at least one vial stocked most of the time. If nothing else helps, Hermione has learnt to brew it acceptably.

"Why would I waste it on you? I should just call the French Aurors and let them deal with you. There's nothing that I need to know from you."

But Peter only shakes his head.

"It's about Severus," he says, as if that made it all clearer, as if that alone could change Remus’s mind.

He is right.

A Romance
NC-17, 35K, warning: "Canon characters pop in and out of the story, and while (hopefully) the personalities are true to canon, the relative ages aren't."
Author's summary: "Busaikko wanted a non-magical AU, supermarket-aisle paperback romance with unusual careers."
Ribbons's reaction: This reads very much like a McKay or Arionrhod or Shanti_writes creation - super-sexy secure-in-his-sexuality Severus, sensuous descriptions of clothing and hair, good meals, quirky humor (there's a cat named Hairy, and yes, it has green eyes), and jokes/reactions about being older. Good fun while home sick on a dreary Sunday afternoon.
Excerpt:

It was Friday when they were made up and rolling that Severus asked his first personal question. "How did a New Orleans boy, who's lived around as much as you have, end up here?"

Remus blinked. How the hell...? "Party trick?"

Severus shrugged. "Hobby."

call for artists (...and what Hello Kitty and the president of the EU have in common)

Sat, 05 Dec 2009 04:36:29 GMT

The Penny Experiment is seeking artists. The gist: create a postcard-sized piece of art featuring a penny and a number assigned to you by the project organizer. Donate it to the project, which will in turn sell it and donate 100% of the proceeds to a food bank.

[The guy organizing the project is also the dude who blogs about Hello Kitty Hell, which I happened to look at tonight in the course of rooting around for information on Herman Van Rompuy, who is the new president of the European Union -- and has a blog at which he posts haiku as well as quotes from Rilke and other poets. There are translations of six of the haiku on Adriaan Jan's Twitter (dated November 20).

...The connection between Hello Kitty and haiku, you ask? You actually have to ask?

...Oh, and courtesy of some bored (or catwaxing) Dutch creatives, there's already a Haiku Herman hack. Lordie.]

signal boost / cupcake links

Thu, 03 Dec 2009 05:17:22 GMT

The signal boost: Samantha Henderson's offering signed copies of her novel Heaven's Bones to folks donating $10 or more to help a Filipina fan save her house.

Brain too scrambled at the moment to cope with actual content [redacted rant about inconsiderate eejits who go a-visiting with colds], so I've been trimming down my bookmarks instead. I had not realized that I have a thing for cupcakes:

Go To Chocolate Cupcakes
Sunflower Cupcakes
Periodic Table Cupcakes (8 sets)
Totoro cupcakes
more Totoro cupcakes

Thing is, I live within walking distance of one of my city's best bakeries, and I'm not sharing office space at the moment, so I'm currently way more likely to put on my sneakers and walk to a single cupcake than to invest several hours in decorating several dozen. Then again, maybe I'll be in the mood to host a theme party a couple months from now... (ooh. Maybe something riffing on tvtropes....)

PSA: think thrice before you submit your manuscript to Harlequin

Tue, 01 Dec 2009 00:00:22 GMT

And if you do anyway, make sure it's not to the imprint called ~~Harlequin Horizons~~ DellArte (or whatever the heck they're now calling it since I last checked). Or to anyone else who wants your shekels in return for "publishing" you. The RWA, SFWA, and MWA are all on Harlequin's case about this.

Fandom Wank has the most comprehensive roundup of the blogosphewhaha I've come across. (Which, being somewhat out of the loop at the moment, was only yesterday - but when I did, there went my evening.) That, and the Nora Roberts = Morgan Freeman analogy FTW.

~~Rubbernecking~~ Getting up-to-date on the above trainwreck was also how I found out about the UK group of Borders stores being in dire straits. I'm unsurprised, and ever more relieved I cashed out as soon as I could, but all the same, sad news - I remember how exciting it was when the very first store in London went live. (And enough time has elapsed that I cannot for the life of me remember if I had any hand in that store's inventory or not - and by the same token, enough time has elapsed for that detail to be irrelevant.)

Eh. *shakes head, shuffles off to scramble my next batch of words and calcs*

all ye fans of Lord Peter Wimsey

Tue, 24 Nov 2009 16:02:26 GMT

nineveh-uk has posted That a Lover Have His Desire: 7K, what happened the rest of the evening at the end of Gaudy Night. Oh placet indeed.

now everything is new...

Thu, 19 Nov 2009 19:40:48 GMT

... or so the song goes. Actually, the difficulty is that life careens on no matter whether I'm paying attention or not, which means I'm nowhere near unpacked, I'll be sightsinging 11 pieces at tonight's rehearsal (and learning one by ear; the remaining two I've sung before), and I'm daunted at the necessity of getting my house company-ready by Monday.

Also, I ache all over, and I'm not sure if it's residual jetlag, residual-falling-off-a-horse-in-Jordan (I did get back on, go me), climate shock (I wore a bikini top in Tel Aviv last Saturday; today, I'm swaddled in my fleece robe and flannel nightgown, and I'm still cold), resuming my acquaintance with Tennessee Valley allergens, or if I'm succumbing to one of the many colds lurking around me (the BYM has been complaining of a scratchy throat). I better not be - I have high notes to hit! - but I've had to defer catching up with people, just in case, and that's a bummer.

Mopiness and munched-up-by-obligations-ness aside, HI! (For those of you just tuning in, I was in Israel for a month - primarily to attend a friend's wedding in Tel Aviv, but also to indulge my wanderlust while I have the legs and flextime to give it rein. There are more details and photos at my general journal.) I couldn't help but think of y'all while I was over there - there was a sushi restaurant in Jerusalem with a manga-styled girl in its ads; cartoon crustaceans on subway walls; shiny, shiny beach structures and a gorgeous library at the Israel Supreme Court, both of which made me miss marginaliana like you wouldn't believe (and so did seeing the Sesame Street stream of Google-logos (November 4-10) every time I hopped onto google.co.il to figure out buses, trains, and other logistics); and a Woodpigeon cover of "Lay All Your Love Down on Me" that had me remembering geoviki's lists.

(I have been unnaturally obsessed with that song for the past nine days - the Information Society version happened to be playing while I was at the Japonika in Haifa, and somehow rooted itself into my system before I was done with my coffee, and the plane home had the ABBA original in its database, so I ended up playing it over and over from Turkey to Quebec in tandem with dance mixes of "All Out of Love" and "Don't Leave Me This Way." It was weirdly soothing to doze to, although the teenage girl in the seat next to me probably thinks I'm a sad, sad freak. I'll just have to riff on it for My Poem Rocks or some other venue - something in my psyche wants its turn on the dancefloor...)

Um, so, yeah, lots going on, and lots more to say, but I've definitely exceeded my babble quota for the day. Plus, lunch to make and cards to send and files to edit and submissions to assemble. Speaking of the last, there are now poems scheduled to appear at Strange Horizons and Dead Mule in the near-ish future, and just a couple hours, qarrtsiluni went live with both the text and audio versions of I am waiting for the right instant to say your name. (For what it's worth, I feel this is my best reading to date of anything I've written, so I'm extra-pleased about that.)

*hugs you all, bounds off to terrorize the mailman* *eg*

happy birthday, lore!

Sat, 31 Oct 2009 19:07:45 GMT

You deserve so much more, but this is all the fic my brain is willing to yield right now:

Their lives on the farm were peaceful, for the most part, although both men remained in fighting trim well into old age. Their superlative fitness was in part due to Lupin's inability to resist teasing his partner on occasion, resulting in few-holds-barred duels until they were both exhausted. Lupin never did find out why, during Snape's turns to milk the Guernseys, the word "cow-ward" was such a trigger.

*grins* *HUGS* *flees barrage of pumpkin seeds*

yet more evidence that online fandom has corroded my brain

Fri, 30 Oct 2009 06:40:50 GMT

Seen on the outside wall of a Tel Aviv pub: "Restrooms for costumers only."

Brain, pre-fandom: "Ack, typo!"

Brain, current: "Wicked! Why didn't I bring my hat?"

wherever you may run away, there will be squid

Wed, 21 Oct 2009 13:53:27 GMT

Space squid, at that. (Hi Valis!)

From misc

(On an outdoor wall of a cafe in Tel Aviv.)

Also emblematic of wrongness, albeit in a different realm: LJ:azdak offers the start of a Bunter/St. George in LJ:nineveh-uk's Yuletide Hell Game. Ulp...

hey, there's chocolate in my peanut butter! :-)

Mon, 05 Oct 2009 03:08:32 GMT

So, I was reading through parts of the Fall 2009 UU World over dinner, when I came across this:

From misc

See the guy in the upper LH corner? He has a degree in physics and worked in banking before becoming a UU minister.

More to the point: "Live long and prosper" at our national assembly. Glee!

(On a side note: my church now has an "Over 30 Gaming Group." How cool is that? If it weren't for the need for sleep... *wistful*)

two links and .02 on the Polanski ugliness

Sat, 03 Oct 2009 16:59:12 GMT

Ed Benerno: "Another popular justification seems to be, 'The victim forgives him.' As a former police officer I can tell you unequivocally that the victim of a crime is often the person least capable of making that decision. They are frightened and humiliated. They just want it all to go away."

Via LJ:ky_expatriate: chrismm's ongoing list of celebrities who aren't giving Polanski a free pass.

My .02: The girl said 'no.' I just don't see any acceptable apology around that. And, on a similarly basic level: my niece is that age. I don't care how tragic and/or brilliant and/or nice-the-rest-of-the-time someone is - if they do anything like that to her, I'll be going after them with a shotgun.

I think I've found my new tagline

Thu, 01 Oct 2009 19:29:00 GMT

Or, No Fandom Is an Island, Exhibit JT:

The unforced error is when you beat yourself. The ball comes to you and you hit it into the net. Or you hit it long. Or you hit it onto the roof of Gary Burke's car, in the parking lot, which I do, a lot.

But the worst error of all is when you don't even try.

On game day, I knew our opponents were going to be tough. During warm-up, the tall one kept hitting fast, spinning serves. I knocked a couple toward Gary’s parking space just to show her that she didn't scare me. But of course, she did.

During the match, however, I stayed tough and maintained my focus. When she hit a 400-mile-an-hour drive straight at my kidneys, I played my game: the dink. Soft returns, ridiculous loopy lobs and a serve that floated across the net like a matzo ball made with love.

But a funny thing happened. My opponents kept overhitting. Meanwhile, my partner, Cheryl, and I got most of our shots in. At one point in the second set, I even heard one of our opponents hiss to the other, "But her serves are so soft ..."

"Float like a matzo ball, sting like a bee," I thought. And wafted another of Nana's seltzer specials over the net.

- Michelle Slatalla, There is a 'Me' in 'Team'"

signal boost: Halloween poetry contest

Tue, 29 Sep 2009 15:44:30 GMT

Don Kingfisher Campbell runs some entertaining contests. Here's the latest: "PREMISE: Submit a 10 line poem with a grand total of 31 words (any number of words per line as long as the total number of words in the poem is 31, stanza breaks count as lines) that fits any of the themes listed below by 10-10-09 with an electronic payment of $10.31 via http://paypal.com to kingfisher1031@charter.net (paste poem into message box or send in a separate email). If your poem is chosen the winner you get 100.31% of the contest money submitted."

(Full disclosure: Don's published a handful of my poems over the past two years, one of which was nominated for a Dwarf Stars Award; the most recent one appeared last month at my poem rocks.)

signal boost: muppets

Mon, 28 Sep 2009 18:21:03 GMT

some stuff from/at Jim Henson Studios current on offer at the LJ:care_faith_hope charity auction.

YAY!

Mon, 28 Sep 2009 15:29:19 GMT

KIMIKO DATE KRUMM FTW!!

(She won the Seoul Open yesterday, and turned 39 today.)