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Gracie Flirting
Posted in The Adventures of Gracie the Wander Cat
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Contest
I am under constant spam assault. Seems like I spend a good half hour a day erasing ridiculous spammed comments and I guess I should get with my website guy, Mike at ktf designs (hit the link below) and do something about it. But some of them are pretty entertaining, like these:
In notion I would like to put in writing like this additionally.
Continue to keep up the fairly fantastic operate.
You’ve bewitched your words and you walk off your judgments
And stick them onto all
If it don’t coincide with to what you were born into,
Then you take french leave the other trail.
During the striving between Francis I and Charles V serious damage was caused next to the mutation of the armies invading Provence; pestilence and scarcity raged in the new zealand urban area on the side of a few years.
So, let’s have a contest. Your assignment is to use these as writing prompts. Use them any way you want, but let’s make this a flash fiction thing, so no more than 100 words (and here I hate flash fiction with a passion. Guess it does have some uses). Feel free to put your results in Comments.
The winner, judged solely by me with no criteria other than what moves me at the moment, will get my two story collections for free. Deadline? Eh, coupla weeks or so from now. Whenever.
Posted in Uncategorized
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Whew
I just watched my DVR’d episode of Community, the Sophie B. Hawkins dance one. What a relief. Things seem to be back on track.
Because the previous episode (which was actually two weeks ago), the one about recruiting the slacker, was just bad. Real bad. Season-ending bad.
I think that’s why the following week they re-ran the InspectorSpaceTimecon one, just to assure us that some studio executive’s idiot son had not, somehow, taken over production. It was like an apology—sorry, fans, we realize the last show was a big stinking turd, so we’re going to show you a good one while we quietly take a few people out back and shoot them.
At least I hope that’s what they did.
Because Community survives only because of the frenzied fanaticism of the three or four of us who love quality TV. We are so tired of shows like Freaks and Geeks and Firefly getting summarily chopped that whenever a rare gem like Community somehow makes it onto the networks, we cling to it like drowners to spars.
But, producer dudes, if you start jumping sharks, we’re oudda here.
Posted in lesser mediums
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Satan indwells my chainsaw
Today was the first real day of Spring. A friggin’ month late, but finally here. So lovely, it was, that I attended a lacrosse game at Shenandoah University. The Hornets also knew it was spring because they played rather languidly, losing to Randolph-Macon 20-13. There were some exciting moments, like an astonishing tackle by the Hornet goalie, #4 Tyler Quinn, (which, if you know anything about lacrosse, a goalie tackle is a rare event), and a good five-minute dustup that ranged from one end of the field to the other and culminated with a stick flying about thirty feet in the air. But, overall, languid.
I rolled out the hoses, planted the spring chard (well, actually, re-planted the spring chard since a hard freeze the other night killed the seedlings I had already planted), and generally puttered around. Chard, of course, is the tough guy of green leafy vegetables. I pulled this from the garden in January:
Who says you can’t garden in winter?
I also made my 4000th attempt since February to start my possessed chain saw. I have a stump that needs leveling so I can place a cistern on top of it. I brought it to an engine shop a couple of weeks ago, and it started right away. Since getting it home…nothing. I believe Satan is involved.
But, eh, whatever. It’s spring. A languid one.
Posted in Life in the Shenandoah Valley
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Virginia is now Canada
I don’t believe in Global Warming. I don’t believe in “Global” anything: global economy, globalization, global stupidity…well, maybe that last. Mother Earth took about a million years of asteroid pounding and volcanic eruption, brushed herself off and said, “That all you got?” And we think we can affect that? C’mon.
What’s really happened is the earth tilted without us noticing, and Virginia is now where Canada used to be. I present as Exhibit A, this past Sunday night:
What the hey?
Now, I am already in Spring mode and have done some lawn fertilizing and preparation of garden beds and started some vegetable seedlings, so late snow like this is somewhat irritating. But, I gotta admit, it made my crappy neighborhood somewhat fairy-like: 
Especially the next day:
We ended up with 5 1/2 inches of global warming. But it was good, a reminder that, despite our self-regard, Mother Earth calls the shots.
Besides, it allowed me to sculpt a well known Wander Cat:
(Note from Gracie: Really? That’s supposed to be me?
Stick to writing, Krauss.)
Posted in Uncategorized
2 Comments
Four Rounds with Apollo Creed
I’ve made it into the quarterfinals of the Amazon Breakthrough Novel Award contest, which is like surviving four rounds with Apollo Creed: you’re amazed you lasted this long, but don’t think you’re going much further.
I’ve perused some of the other survivors and, man, there’s some good stuff out there. Which is encouraging- if the judges thought The Ship to Look for God carried weight in such company, that’s a pretty good pat on the back.
And while you’re at it, download an excerpt of Ship. Or, spare yourself the trouble and just flip over to my main page and read a shorter version here. Tell me what you think.
‘Cause rounds 5-8 are coming up, and I’m not Rocky Balboa.
Posted in Uncategorized, Writing itself
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The Adventures of Gracie the Wander Cat: Where No Cat Has Gone Before
One day I was fulfilling Wander Cat prerogatives and climbed up on the roof just to see what was there. Nothing really, but the view was nice and I strolled around a bit admiring things, ending over the front porch, on the pergula. 
I poked around a bit and figured it was time to go check the fields for any uppity mice…and I couldn’t get down.
I mean, I just couldn’t! There was no place to climb down that I could see. 
How embarrassing.
If the Wild’uns over there in the woods spotted me, I’d never live it down. They already consider us Wander Cats pussies, and this would give them material for months: “Hey, Gracie, what’s up. You?” or “Get down, Gracie girl, you know you can!” I just didn’t need that crap, so I had to think of something.
Fortunately, that D. Krauss guy was sitting on the porch drinking beer and reading, so I called out, “Hey!” The idiot looks right, then left, then goes back to his book. “Hey!” I said again. Same routine. Took me four times to get the moron to look up.
And what does he do? Starts laughing at me! “Wassamadder, Gracie, you stuck?” You know, I’m already in a bad mood and his cackling is going to attract unwanted attention so, the heck with it, I get ready to jump on him.
But he steps back and says, “No way!” Oh. c’mon! It’s not like I’m going to claw you too deep. Stop being a baby! But he keeps dodging out of the way until he’s standing next to the only place on the whole damn pergula he can get anything to grow.
“You got yourself up there, you get yourself down,” he says, and taps on the vines. What am I, a chimp? But it looks like that’s the extent of his help, so I started working my way down them. I eventually made it, no thanks to that D. Krauss guy.
Now I know how to get up and down there anytime I want. Which means that D. Krauss guy is going to get a Wander Cat leaping on his neck one morning.
All of this leads to a shameless plug
A pal of mine, Jose Bogran recently discussed tech in scifi, or, more accurately, writing low tech in scifi. What was cutting edge in 1950’s Asimov is now quaint and laughable, and the scifi written today becomes outdated almost the moment it’s published, so maybe best keep the tech low, even non-existent.
I get the point: no one wants instant irrelevance, or downright implausibility because of tech advances, and I think JB proposed some excellent ways around it. But it’s like avoiding a murderer in your murder mystery.
I think most readers are very forgiving of classics like 2001 and Starship Troopers, even though current tech makes a lot of that stuff (HAL going crazy? Please) silly now. I’m not so sure how forgiving they are of current stuff, though, so invoking a few of JB’s suggestions should keep your scifi fresh.
But you could also go all mundane on their asses.
Mundane scifi, that is, which I think is a more accurate scifi than hard core megatech far future space operas could ever be. Although I am a big fan of Alastair Reynolds and Neal Stephenson (okay, so he’s more mundane than hard scifi, but, c’mon, Anathem?), I think things like Kim Stanley Robinson’s Mars series is a more realistic scifi, if those two words can actually go together. It’s more within our possibilities.
So when I do scifi, that’s pretty much where I stay, near earth and near time. Most of the stories in (WARNING! Shameless plug follows!) The Last Man in the World Explains All are mundane, although there’s a couple of far space ones in there, too.
Now don’t get me wrong, it’s not that I’m opposed to hard scifi space operas.
I’m just not smart enough to write them.
Posted in Writing itself
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