Scarlet Letters

If journalism is the first rough draft of history, popular culture is the first rough draft of the artistic legacy we leave behind for future generations.  Cross-posting to CultureGeek on the Oscars: Why Spotlight  Matters.

It turns out I'm a dominant leadership style with a developer personality that becomes uncomfortable with limitations to my individuality and self-reliance. Also, I'm stubborn. But I figure Jim rigged the test from afar, so.... Lots of ideas shared and hypotheticals on dealing with certain situations that may arise. If I didn't already know that I tend to say "screw it" and take over a task rather than negotiate and coach teammates, I sure do now. I don't know that "belligerent" is a fair word, but I'll leave that to people who've worked with me to say and for me to keep disagreeing. I don't know that I've had all that many surprises about myself; I'm a bit older than a lot of the other attendees, so I've had more time to get used to myself and figure out what makes me tick. That's one advantage to getting older. If you're not comfortable with yourself by the time you're thirty-nine-plus-tax, you probably have ...

Let me preface this by saying that I had four hours of sleep last night, drove the entire six-hour drive from St. Louis myself, and then had six hours of the Scripps seminar before reaching this blog post. This will therefore be a short blog post. Tiiiiiiiired. In case anyone is wondering, the Scripps leadership seminar is intended to help journalists become better leaders, both in the profession and in the rest of their endeavors. It is an honor to have been selected, and so far I am enjoying getting to know my colleagues. I can tell that there will be some serious questions for us to discuss tomorrow. Much of today centered on evaluating myself as a leader. Of course, I don't really think of myself as a leader much of the time, because I haven't really sought out leadership. I seem to end up in leadership roles, however, usually because nobody else wants the job. If I sit down and think about it, that's really how I end up in charge of so many things. Relay for Li...

MAN: We're divorced. ME: I beg your pardon. MAN: I sent off the paperwork to [state agency] so you can have my pension.* Again. And they finally got it entered, but they still got it wrong. ME: You're kidding. MAN: Yup. They have us down as divorced. ME: Oh for fuck's sake. MAN: I called them and they're sending the paperwork so I can get it refiled as married. But for now, we're divorced, as far as they know. ME: So we're divorced. What're you going to do? MAN: Huh? ME: Hey, the state says we're divorced, you're a free man. What are you going to do? MAN: Get the paperwork so I can file it properly for us to be married. ME: Spoilsport. C'mon, free man! What do you do with your freedom? MAN: Mope and cry. ME: You would, too. MAN: Also, they need a copy of my birth certificate. It says I may have been born in 1967 but they don't know for sure. So I may or may not exist. ME: So you're divorced AND you don't exist and you...

Man: I wouldn't mind going camping this year. Me: We can't do it lightweight. Man: What? Me: Can't do it lightweight. Camping. It's in-tents. Man: ... Man: *closes eyes, rolls head back* Me: *innocent grin* Man: Bleeeechy. Me: Sorry. There was too much at stake. Beatles: "We all live in a yellow submarine..." Me: Dear. Your hippie drug music is getting stuck in my head. If you don't change the song, I shall have to kill you in your sleep. Man: Good. Me: Good that it's getting stuck in my head, or good that I'm going to kill you in your sleep? Man: Both. Me: That's disturbing. Beatles: "A yellow submarine.... a yellow submarine...." Me: Look, I love the Beatles. And I understand that this music was very important for people of your generation, but... Man: Yup. Me: But now it's an earworm. Man: Yup. Me: You're not going to reply to that at all? Man: No, because you're making fun of me for being...

... but there are a number of thoughts in this week's review of The Affair  over on CultureGeek that I think might be interested in those of you reading this blog. It seems like the show is trying to say things about the roles we play in our lives, about striving to be more than we are and our inevitable failures to live up to our own expectations or the expectations of others. This is where  The Affair  stops being a soap opera: while it is certainly melodramatic, it does not ascribe to a candy-coated happily-ever-after view of love or marriage or even sex. Even the layers have layers, and there is no one who does not end up trapped at some point or another.  The Affair  seems to say that more than money, status, education or circumstances of birth, it is those we love who trap us the most - and yet money, status, education and circumstances of birth play the vital parts in each person's life as it unfolds. There is no action without consequence. Go check...

One of the fun (?) things about doing the taxes: Finding out you made a smart choice. And I'm going to share this one in detail, because if my Facebook feed is any indication, some of you are considering the same choice. Here's how it worked out for us. In February of last year, Jim and I decided to cancel our cable. Now, that was a big thing for people who watch as much (too much!) television as we do. We're selective-ish about what we watch, but even with our standards, we follow a good many shows. I pick what I watch for CultureGeek, and we also have a necessity to keep up with science fiction and horror television for our respective writing careers. We were paying Charter for internet, landline and a full cable package. That was running us about $1740 a year, or $145 a month. For the record, when we dumped them, they were about to jack that up to $175 a month, or $2100 a year. We opted to keep the landline for emergencies and so that we have a SpamPhone - you know...

Today's Guest Star post is from Sela Carsen, romance writer and the newest Underlord with the Literary Underworld. She has some wise words about being ready to publish - i.e., not as soon as you think. -ekd I read a post this morning from a young writer who couldn't understand why no one was buying his book. Pricing was certainly an issue, which he fixed, but he was still puzzled. I clicked over to the book and read the "Look Inside" feature. Ah. I saw the problem. He's not ready. Every author I know wrote for years before we even considered putting our work out for publication. We acknowledged that our first works were not up to par. Their quality was not at a professional level and not ready for publication, but we kept writing. Not publishing, writing.  We spent years learning our craft: plotting, characterization, word choices, sentence structure, pacing... honing our most basic grammar and punctuation skills. And finding your voice? For many of us,...

ME: I cannot believe he ate all those cookies. MAN: What? ME: There are several chocolate chip cookies missing this morning. MAN: Well, I had a few. ME: James!* MAN: They were there! I thought they were for the family! ME: They were not for you! MAN: Who were they for? ME: The Relay team! We have a meeting! I bake for meetings! MAN: There wasn't a note or anything! You know, the cookies were just sitting out there looking all delicious, and there was no note or force field or magic spell protecting them so... ME: That's what I forgot. Next time I need to cast a magic spell over my cookies. How many did you eat? MAN: Four. ME: James! That means Ian didn't eat any! You have less self-control than a teenage boy! MAN: You should've cast a spell. SCENE: Boy has just completed his nightly shower, complete with musical renditions from the late 80s. ME: One of these days I'm going to record you singing in the shower. BOY: Okay. ME: And put it on the inter...

SCENE: Getting ready for work after sleeping on the couch last night. The reasons for this will shortly be made clear. From behind the closed bedroom door... MAN: *sleepy cry of protest* ME: *enters bedroom* Problems? MAN: You went away. Why did you go away? ME: I did my best, dear. But I gave up about five a.m. and slept on the couch. MAN: Why? ME: I can hang in there through snoring, and the CPAP makes interesting hissy sounds. But when you started growling and humming in your sleep, that's when I gave up. The couch is not comfortable, but at least it's quiet, and I got to say goodbye to Ian.* MAN: Growling? ME: Seriously. You're a werewolf now? MAN: Am not. ME: Are too. You were growling. MAN: I can't help it! I was asleep! ME: Growling! I knew it. I married a werewolf. I should have known when you were writing your series that it was autobiographical. MAN: Andrew is not a werewolf. ME: Honey, he's a werewolf. MAN: He is not! ME: He's a shape...

Boy: Can we watch another episode? Me: No. Boy: Why not?  Me: Because it's 3 a.m. Boy: Oh crap. Me: Yeah.  Man: *snore* Boy, watching evil ventriloquist episode: "Uh uh. Boarding the train to Nopeville." CHARACTER: Well, we didn't get a busy signal, so we know she wasn't online. BOY: Huh? ME: *press pause* Okay, back then when you wanted to get online, you had to dial up through the phone line. BOY: Wait, what? ME: *long technical explanation* BOY: Why didn't you just use wifi? ME: Okay, let me start again. The Buffy Binge has now reached season two, "Innocence." Boy says he now understands why everyone says Joss Whedon is so mean to his characters. Me: I told you it got darker. Boy: And they delivered. Me: Right between the eyes.  Boy: And then they all went home to kill themselves? Me: What is taking so long? Boy: I'm getting a snack! Me: Again? You're missing Xander/Cordelia k...

I have pretty much one inescapable talent: Choosing hobbies at which I suck. I love to hike. I am the world's slowest hiker, and was even before my health issues. I used to weight-train before the Knee Incident, but you'd better believe I'm not posting my lifts. We won't even get into my "dancing." I played the cello from second grade until midway through high school, and still have my cello (albeit in grave need of repair). I was a terrible cellist. I learned the basics of piano from my mother, a virtuoso classical pianist who has performed at Carnegie and Tanglewood. The apple fell very far from the tree. I like to do needlework, and color, and decorate cakes, and keep plants, and various crafty things that help keep Michaels in business. I suck at all of the above (and I'm so slow on needlework I still haven't gotten to Boy's Christmas stocking by age 17). I have the creative heart of an artist without the... what's the word... talen...

You're making my life difficult, and not in the usual leaf-on-the-wind manner. (Too soon! Too soon!) We're in the middle of a Buffy rewatch, which doesn't really count as a rewatch when Boy has never seen it. Well, technically that's not true. A few years ago I tried to introduce him to the ways of the Buffster, but it seems I tried a little too early. He couldn't relate to "high school as a metaphor for hell" when he hadn't been to high school. He gets it now. It was fairly simple up to the end of Season Three (which was just as awesome as I remember). But now we have the complication of Angel.  It's a good show as well - it had its stumbles, but it's a bit more mature, a bit less black-and-white with its morality and has some interesting and complex storylines. There's also mega crossovers. And this is where you're making my life difficult. How do we handle it? Do we watch all of Buffy  through (uck) Season Seven, or do we sto...

In early December, I ordered a gift for my stepson. Time went on and it didn't ship, and it didn't ship, and it didn't ship. Finally I got an email that said it was backordered. By now, I knew it was far too late for the item to arrive in time for Christmas. Therefore, I replied with my wish that the order would be canceled, and the money restored to my account. We offered our apologies to my stepson, and waited for the refund so that we could order a replacement, belated, Christmas present. Imagine my surprise when I got an email this evening that stated the gift has actually shipped. Even better, the tracking shows that it is estimated to arrive on December 28. Oh really? Does Amazon now ship via The DeLorean? Or perhaps they use a TARDIS to deliver packages. I guess we'll see if the gift finally shows up, or if I get my refund instead. Either way it will officially be the latest present I've ever sent a family member. Probably. Maybe.

It's that day again, the Epiphany in which I became a mom and boarded the rollercoaster. I already wrote about how my Boy came into this world , and the requisite newborn picture , and a few years ago I did the Life of Boy photo slideshow on Facebook. What else can I say on the occasion of his birth, considering that he doesn't read blogs or Facebook because "that's for old people"? (What a mouth.) I remember when I turned seventeen. It's got this misty fog all over it, because it was a long time ago in a galaxy far far away and there was about half as much of me and a whole lot more energy and brainpower. I'm pretty sure there's a picture somewhere... My friends threw me a giant surprise party, and yes, it was a real surprise. The official plan was eating out at a restaurant with my family, but I was staying after school to donate blood. Yes, I was very excited that my seventeenth birthday fell on a blood drive day (NERD), because I was finally ...

No, this isn't just ads, I swear. You can trust me! First, the ads. *ducks* Seventh Star Press is putting my latest on sale for the post-Christmas season: Nocturne Infernum  for 99c. Ninety-nine cents, people. That's three novels, an entire trilogy, for less than a dollar. I personally am pretty proud of this book, which is really three books. If you bought the original trilogy, know that this isn't the Lucas Edition with extra CGI and annoying plot changes. It's the Director's Cut, with the dreck cleared out. Buy it on Kindle, or better yet: gift it to a friend. (Yeah, you can do that with ebooks, and it's awesome.) The ebook is regularly $4.99 - still a bargain for three novels. The paperback is $21.95 if you buy it from Amazon, $20 if you buy it from Literary Underworld . Which leads me to the real purpose of today's post. I think I've done a poor job in telling people what the hell LitUnd is, and that's ironic for someone in the communicati...

In the last few weeks, I've had to do more than the usual amount of fighting with medical insurance, the clinics and companies that provide us with health care. And frankly, I am royally sick of it. This shit was supposed to end when we got the "good" insurance. • My "winner" this round is the mail-order prescription service contracted with our insurance. They have reached new levels of incompetence. One of my medications was running low, so I put in an order in November. Two weeks went by and it hadn't arrived, so I called to find out my status. I was informed the order was canceled. Why? There's a form my doctor is supposed to file with my insurance company verifying that I really need the medicine he has prescribed. Otherwise they won't cover it. First: If I were a doctor, I'd be goddamn insulted that form exists. "Yes, she needs the medicine. That's why I wrote the prescription. I didn't write it because I love the sight of m...

Me: Would you pour me an iced tea? Boy: Iced tea.... Me: Giant pitcher, in the fridge. Hard to mistake for the OJ. Boy: Please? Me: Would you please bring me an iced tea? Boy: Thank you. I'm going to teach you manners. Me: Oh shut up.  Me: On Saturday, we have to take the car to the repair place to get the estimate on repairing the damage.* Boy: Okay. Wait, Saturday? Me: Yes, sadly we will have to reschedule our Star Wars tickets. Boy: What. Me: Then we are bringing you back here, since the Pezzas are picking you up for the Christmas pageant rehearsal - Boy: WHAT. Me: - because that's the night Jim and I are doing our annual Christmas shopping date - Boy: When are we rescheduling Star Wars! Me: 😈 Boy: When. are. we. rescheduling. Star Wars. Me: We're not. I'm just messing with you. Boy: 👺 Why? Me: Have we met? Boy: 😝 Me: I tried it on Jimmy. You would have thought I asked him for a divorce. Boy: One of my New Year...

You must understand, Jim is working on a paper comparing sexuality and the vampire mythos in Bram Stoker's Dracula  and Stephen King's 'Salem's Lot.  King himself addressed this dichotomy in his 1980 nonfiction overview of the horror genre, Danse Macabre.  My copy has mysteriously vanished from my library ( damn you isabel)  and copies of older King books are silly expensive. After the write-in, I stopped by BSR Books in Granite City to chat with the owners and check on their stock of my books. I managed to buy only four books, which is restraint for me. At one point, I texted Jim. Fun times with autocorrect. ME: Warning. I am hanging out in a used bookstore. JIM: See if they have dance Mac. ME: ? JIM: The boom I bedbugs JIM: The book I need JIM: Dance macrame JIM: Shit you what I need for the book report JIM: Know what I need ME: This is going on Facebook. JIM: Nooooooo! Alas, they did not have Danse Macabre.  Or Dance Macrame,  a Stephen ...

All media reports indicated that there would be a gigantic storm this evening. Meetings were canceled; it was right up to the deadline whether the Veterans Day parade would go on. This was important, because Boy's Scout troop helped carry the giant flag with the Edwardsville Lions. The evening turned out marvelously. BOY: By the way, it didn't rain a DROP on the parade, you liar. ME: Hush you. BOY: You were all about the rain. ME: Look, Spawn, it's not my fault. We in the press actually know squat-all about predicting the weather. Air pressure, humidity, whatever. All we know how to do is read the National Weather Service report and tell you people what they say. File your complaints with them. BOY: Rain. Hail. Tornadoes. Stormageddon. ME: National. Weather. Service. BOY: YOU said - ME: I said what the National Weather Service said! So everybody go out and buy milk, eggs and bread,* and the worst thing that happens is everyone has French toast for a d...