Whoosh, Whomp & Whoogah

Photo by Eileen Smith

Okay, sue me -- I love alliteration. It's the Anglo-Saxon and Old Norse poetry what are to blame. Besides, these are words that are fun to say out loud. Go on, do it. I'll wait.

Okay? So the "whoosh" is because January is nearly done. Eeek! How has the first month of 2012 passed by so quickly? I suppose starting off the year with a fun visit from Miss Wendy and then beginning to teach a course has something to do with that. And I have been writing madly, too. Another whoosh must be the wings of the now-captured Clepington Owl, so alas, I will not get a chance to see her when I get back to Dundee shortly. I'm sure the cats are glad. Yes, more PR from the zeitgeist in advance of Owl Stretching. Hope to hear the release date soon!

I have a short story up at Short-Story.Me -- a little gruesome tale called "Yuletide Feast" that probably would have been a little more timely last month, but you know how it is. I actually wrote this years ago and recently discovered that it had not been published (how does that go, you may ask: well, scrolling through my Stories folder looking for something that I can't remember what title I gave >_< and seeing a title that I also don't remember... see why I need minions?!) and sent it off. Bingo. 

I have also received an award from the lovely Jeanne Andrew: The Versatile Blogger Award. The rules of this harmless bit of fun are: to thank those that nominated you; to copy-and-paste the award logo in your own blog; to tell your readers seven random facts about you; and to nominate further blogs that you follow, and let them know.

Right, here goes: Thank you, Funny Girl Jeanne. You are a delight of my Twitter timeline :-)



Seven random things about me:

1) My favourite thing on the new iPad: bongos! Seriously.
2) I watched Jaws for the umpteenth time last night and it never gets old.
3) I like to sing along with Dusty Springfield and make all her dramatic arm gestures.
4) I wish I could have met Peter Cook just once, to see those eyes and hear that laugh.
5) I want to write sparkling prose that will live forever; I get around the anxiety and paralysis this causes by telling myself, "Well, not today obviously."
6) There is an indestructible happiness inside me.
7) I don't know where the stories I write come from; I just try to be friends with my head, as the great Russell Hoban put it, and simply write down what it tells me. So far, that's been working out.

Right: so here are some blogs you ought to be checking out, i.e the award winners! Some of these will be to give a kick in the muse for the folks I point to, as they have been neglectful of their blogs [gives severe look]. I see Mr B has already received one recently, so I won't add him to the list, but you should always drop by his gaff for some laffs (yes, spelled that way).

Lochee has has not updated his blog since posting some fetching pictures of Karen Gillan. Tsk!

The fabulous QoE always has some wonderful new art up. Stop by and show her the love.

Miss Wendy will surely have some stories to share about her visit here soon.

The poet of Rome, Alessandra, always has lovely things to share. Her sweetie, John, always has some darkness to offer, too.

The lovely jubbly Chloë also has a blog! She will delight and amuse you.

Have you checked out the Apocalypse Girls? If not, why not! And while you're at it, be sure to drop by UnBound to catch up on all the latest. They will be covering Alt.Fiction, where I will be doing a one-on-one with Graham Joyce (gulp!) about the darkness of fairy tales, as well as another explaining why pretty much all Alan Moore adaptations suck -- and probably reading some flash fiction in the open mic.

The usual suspects: if you're reading my blog, chances are you already read Todd, Patti and Elena as well: if you don't I simply have to ask, Are you mad?! Hee. You have all been given the versatile blogger award: no speeches required, just take a moment to reflect on the work that you've done and pat yourself on the back.

Well, that should give the rest of you plenty to get started reading. Are you blogging? Do I know that? Should you be sending me a link? That's the thing: we're all busy people. I won't know you've written something unless you tell me (see how I trumpet every little thing here). Share your words -- that's why you write, isn't it? Whoogah!

Setting Sail for Inishmore

Miss Wendy and I tried to do the overnight B&B trip to Inishmore. We got up early Tuesday to go get our tickets for the ferry and make arrangements. The woman at the ticket office said the crew were making a decision at 9. They decided not to go that day.

More timid folk would have decided then and there not to make a crossing in January.

Miss Wendy and I, however, were determined, so we went back yesterday and sure enough, the ferry would be sailing so we got our bus & ferry tickets, but decided not to do the whole B&B thing, which ended up being just as well. Remote islands in the Atlantic in January, it turns out, do not offer experiences conducive to relaxed enjoyment. Imagine our surprise.

We found ourselves back in Connemara on the bus, which took a bit longer than we had anticipated to get to the ferry terminal. Miss Wendy, as you know, used to work at the Coast Guard Academy and has been on whaling trips and whatnot. My family used to have its own boat and I've been on ocean ferries before.

I have never been in water that wild! Miss Wendy said she understood now why Poseidon was the patron of horses as well as the sea as we plunged up and down in the waves. Arm rests have other uses than just resting arms, I discovered. I was trying not to think of things like The Poseidon Adventure and just roll with the waves. Even as I write this, I feel that strange sensation again. I didn't feel ill at all, just nervous.

Very very nervous.

It didn't help that all the islanders we met that day said, "Rough crossing?" and then proceeded to regale us with their own decisions not to take the ferry that week. The woman in the stone shop showed off her arm brace and said how she was supposed to go to her doctor on the mainland, "But I'll leave it until next week."

Our tour around the island brought us to seals (which I don't think either of us could make out) and lots of sea birds, which Miss Wendy found in her guide book. The ruins of the 8th century monastery and its cemetery were quite lovely and picturesque, living history.

The beauties of Dun Aengus were considerable but there was a bit of a problem; as the woman in the heritage office told us, "Be careful by the cliffs." What she might have said was, "The opening to the ring fort creates a kind of wind tunnel that combined with gale force wind will knock you off your feet." We discovered that for ourselves. Some dramatic footage of the cliffs.




The cafe where we warmed up before the hike up to the fort gave a lovely warm glow from the turf fire and the delicious food. The pub at the end of the tour proved a welcome sight as we tried to steel our resolve for the journey back. By the time we walked to the pier, the wind howled and the rain assaulted us. We got on board, but they warned us they were changing us to another boat. After about a quarter of an hour, we all decamped for the smaller, less swank ferry.

A few people had told us the journey back would be better, but coincidences added to our nerves. In the pub the telly showed a Raging Nature program on people dying in blizzards detailing how it feels to freeze to death and the woman sitting across the aisle from Wendy read a novel Dead Tomorrow! or something like that. I think we both blanched when one of the sailors, after staring out the fore window for a time intently, reached up to the row of life jackets hanging on a shelf above our heads. However, he was just retrieving his newspaper which he'd put up there. So we plunged on through the sea in the dark this time, rolling and pitching, rising to meet the waves and it was a bit better but still nerve-wracking, so we were glad to reach shore.

You can see all the Inishmore pictures at the end of the Ireland album. I think we're going to treat ourselves to a spa day today. I expect I may be back to visit the Aran Islands.

Critters Poll: still time to vote for me for best horror short, or as part of the Dark Pages: International Noir anthology; you can also vote for the lovely QoE's artwork as cover artist.

Mistaken Identity

Happy new year, everyone. It's been a cold and damp one so far in Ireland (shock!) but Miss Wendy and I managed to get out in the bit of sun yesterday for a little while to do some wandering and bird watching. New birds sighted included  chirpy little robin and moorhen up by Salmon Weir. It turns out that all the "crows" I have been seeing around the city are really rooks. Here's a dramatic shot of one out on Nimmo's pier who let me get quite close.

New Years Day gave us some good (if overlapping) television including Eddie Izzard's Treasure Island, a new episode of Sherlock and another AbFab. We only watched the first hour of the pirate yarn and then switched over to see Holmes and Watson -- and of course, Irene Adler. I wish I could say that Moffat & Co did her proud; for the greater part they did, but then by the end... sigh. Why do so many people have such a hard time seeing women as people, not just "not men"? If you haven't seen the "magic womb" Xmas episode of Doctor Who you might not find it as irksome. Then again you might. AbFab was amusing and gave Jane Horrocks a chance to show off her uncanny singing abilities. Edina's outfits were eye-searingly painful.

Bank holiday today: not sure what might be open. Sun's out at the moment. We're thinking of going to the islands tomorrow. More adventures! 

Connemara

Are you ready for Hogmanay? I understand you need a torch, some coal and a bottle of whisky (no 'e'!). I think Miss Wendy and I may just have a nice dinner out. We had a lovely trip through Connemara yesterday. Here are some lovely photos to show it. Cool and misty, but the landscape was so gorgeous.


             

See the whole Ireland album here. Happy New Year! By the by, if you feel so inclined to vote for my story It's a Curse as one of the best horror shorts of 2011, please do! And guess what's on Kindle now (thanks to Brad!)

Dublin & Miss Wendy

I tried to post from the phone and kept getting errors. I am getting the photos up online so you can see the fun we had :-)

Boxing Day v St Stephen's Day

I'm packed and ready for the next journey -- meeting Miss Wendy in Dublin which ought to be a lot of fun, but makes it no less difficult to leave Dundee. A bus to Edinburgh Airport then a flight to Dublin and one more bus into the city centre. Hopefully Miss Wendy is having a chance to sleep off her jet lag as she should be there already. I leave the UK where it's Boxing Day and arrive in Ireland where it's St Stephen's Day. Will I feel the difference?

I'm over at the New England Horror Writers blog today with a little information on Dundee's Howff: drop by and enjoy!

A Writer Discovers the Famous Dundee Cemetery

by Kate Laity

The Dundee Dragon (picture by Kate Laity)

I have a lot of New England friends who enjoy exploring the graveyards of the northeast and probing the histories behind them, so it’s a treat to be able to visit an even older cemetery here in Dundee where I am spending Christmas. Of course the big holiday in Scotland is Hogmanay, but I have to be back in Ireland this year, so I’m going to miss it. Dundee also has a famous dragon as well, though it’s best known for the three Js: jute, jam and journalism. The jute mills once employed much of the population, until jute production was outsourced to India in the 1920s. Orange marmalade continues to be a staple of British tables. And Dundee remains the home of DC Thomson, creator of The Beano, The Dandy and The Sunday Post... [read the rest]

Did you get a Kindle or some other reading device for your holidays? Need something to read on it? I have some suggestions :-)

Know-vember: Miss Wendy

You knew she would be here: the Patsy to my Edina, she of the big hair, former Elf-Queen (and survivor of many a medieval play), southern gal supreme, Mechademia Submissions editor, connoisseur of Jack Daniels and hostess of the Rosh Hashanah Ragin' Kegger and Toga Parties -- Miss Wendy! I am so happy to know that Miss Wendy will be in Ireland after Xmas and this island nation will never be the same again if we have anything to say about it. Wendy reminded me that we were together last New Year's Eve, too, when I visited her in the home of Faulkner. Ringing in another year -- where will we be in another year's time?! Who can say? :-)

1. What's the first thing you do upon waking in the morning?

Well, this morning I cursed out Pumpkin, my cat, who decided to howl, run laps around the house, and play with what I thought was not a noisy toy at 5:00 this morning (two hours before my alarm). Most mornings, I open a coffee can, savor the smell of the grinds, and make a very strong cup of coffee.

2. What's a song you might be persuaded to dance to?

I am not averse to dancing and have danced to many songs in my life -- some of which I am not proud. I can always be persuaded to dance to a Ramones song.

3. Where in the world do you live?


In my mind, in my house, in the city of Oxford, Mississippi, in the Southern United States, in North America, in the West, on Earth, third planet out.

4. What's a great night out for you?

Dinner at a restaurant in the Latin Quarter, Paris; off-Broadway play in New York; moonlight trip in a rowboat on the Vltava in Prague; and finally late night karaoke with my friends in Tokyo. (I've done three of four. Any one of them would be a wonderful night out).

5. What's a great night in?


Martinis and kung fu movie marathon.

6. If you were offered an all expenses paid trip anywhere in the world, where would you go?

A year in Tokyo; or birdwatching in Costa Rica.

7. What book do you wish everyone would read so you could talk about it?


Haruki Murakami's Hard-Boiled Wonderland and the End of the World; or his short stories The Elephant Vanishes.


8. What movie makes you cry?

These are movies that I like to cry to. They are the ones that I believe have earned my tears. I cry at other movies but either the quality of the cry is not transcendent or the stupid movie has manipulated my tears. Here's a list of the good cries: Akira Kurosawa's Ikiru; Isao Takahata's Grave of the Fireflies; Mike Newell's Enchanted April (a happy, melancholy cry); James L. Brooks' Terms of Endearment (I know, a classic tear-jerker, but darnit, both Debra Winger and Shirley Maclaine are just too good); I'm sure there are classic Hollywood films I am missing here. Kate will send me a list, I'm sure -- yes, I know Dark Victory [Ed: "Did the sun go behind the clouds?".

9. What makes you laugh?

This sums up my sense of humor. It's a cartoon from the New Yorker. I can't find the link but I'll describe it. A clown is sitting at a table in an outdoor cafe. He's holding a balloon and a tear trickles down his cheek. A woman stands at the table, looking like she's about to walk away. She says "If you must know, he makes me laugh." It's the balloon that gets me. I never get tired of it.

10. Are there fairies at the bottom of your garden?


Nope. Cats ate them. 

 Be seeing you, Miss Wendy -- can't wait!

Snapshots of Pop Culture

Here's a little taste of the trip to the Popular Culture Association Conference: we stayed at the Marriott Rivercenter which is a combination mall and canal, chock full of tourists and cheap Texas trash, er, souvenirs. I lived in that state for three years, eleven months, six days, five hours and fifteen minutes and I never understood the arrogant Texas chauvinism. I lost count of the number of Tejas tattoos I saw. I don't think I've ever seen anyone with Connecticut tattooed on their skin.

I had to take a picture of this because I couldn't decide if it was genius or the most horrible thing ever; I wish I'd taken a picture of the guy who was in it with his two tiny daughters. Scarred for life or prepared for the worst? In case you're wondering, it costs $2 for a "ride" in the machine.

We spent most of our time in panels seeing papers on all kinds of topics. Of course what everyone really looks forward to is chatting in the bar which is far more relaxed (though often just as thoughtful). Miss Wendy and Paul and I started things off on the right foot the first night.

It was my last year as chair of the Medieval Popular Culture area: we're combining with the Arthurian area (strength in numbers), so next year I have no responsibilities but writing my own paper. Naturally I've already come up with an idea for a special panel: anyone interested in a Romance & Comics, let me know. I attended the open forum on  Romance scholarship which was quite interesting: not surprisingly, there were only two men there. You gotta admire the chutzpah of a guy who'd bring this cup to that room full of women (or maybe it was just obliviousness):

PCA is a rather laid back conference, but there are still moments that people find stressful. Someone must have been trying to encourage a friend with this note that first appeared in one of the elevators, then on a painting in the hallway where I snapped it:

Saturday Miss Wendy wanted to wander around a little and see the sights after she gave her awesome presentation on Moto Hagio. Last time we were in San Antonio, the only touristy thing we did was the Ripley's Believe it or Not! "museum" which was amusing at least. So we headed over to the Alamo which is now classified as (no, I'm not kidding) "The Shrine to Texas Liberty."

I liked this shirt and the lotteria paintings in this store, but everything they had was unbelievably expensive, so I didn't feel too tempted to add to my belongings as I'm continuing to divest myself of things.

I'm always intrigued by weird stuff that other people don't seem to find interesting. I have odd tastes, I guess. But I loved the way electricity was anthropomorphised in this sign. It looks deliberately malevolent.

I was lucky on my flight out: after the unexpected overnight stay in Chicago a week ago, I was pleased to find that because my flight was overbooked, they bribed me to change flights with $400 in travel coupons -- and I didn't have to go to Chicago (Atlanta instead) and got there only an hour later than I would have anyway. On the way back, not so lucky, but that's okay. I had plenty of time to check out the new trends according to W:

What's more "punk" than an airbrushed model in a corset? Sigh. And I'm hoping the rumours that punk rocker Poly Styrene has died are just that, though she has been battling cancer for a while. I've been following her on Twitter and the new album is getting a lot of good press. I hope it's not true. [Sadly it is true: requiescat in pace, Marianne].

On the Road Again

Assuming all goes well, by the time this posts, I ought to be on a plane from Chicago to San Antonio. We shall hope for there to be no prolonged visit like Friday. If I had time to actually see the city, it would be different. I have many potential duties to accomplish in Chicago. But they are for a planned visit, not an accidental touristing. Best of all, the other end of this journey should reunite me with Miss Wendy and the AbFab duo will be on the rampage again. Much fun us anticipated.

One of the lovely things that has made travel much nicer lately is the advent of curated art in airports. In the Albany airport, there are exhibits from many of the museums in the region, including my fave EMPAC, to give you an idea what's at each museum.

You can step into Van Gogh's bedroom and other sights at O'Hare (if you know where to find them). Anything to make the experience less ugly is appreciated.

More anon!

Happy Birthday, Miss Wendy!

You'll always be Patsy to my Edina :-) Have a great day whatever you do!

BitchBuzz: Take a Letter

Today's column owes a tip of the pen to Miss Wendy, my pen pal:

Why Not Write a Handwritten Letter?

By K.A. Laity

In the rush of post-holiday depression and intense workouts, whether required by your resolutions or the amount of snow piling up around your home, you're bound to need a bit of a break. Some sort of Zen-like activity would be perfect, wouldn't it? Even if you’re not in the midst of a country beset by madmen and flying bullets, you probably want something peaceful to take your mind off those things about now.

Write a letter.

No, not an email: a real letter. There's bound to be someone you know who would appreciate a real honest-to-goodness letter or at least a card in the mail. It doesn't take that long and it's surprisingly satisfying...

Read more: http://life.bitchbuzz.com/why-not-write-a-handwritten-letter.html#ixzz1AyELXBFz

So when's the last time you wrote a letter? Holiday cards don't count.

Oh, and as I parked the car tonight, I looked down and saw this:

The Oxford Odyssey, Part 3

I will be traveling today, so here are some cute pictures of Pumpkin rolling around on my bed. It's been very lovely visiting Miss Wendy, Pumpkin and Boo.

And don't forget --

The Oxford Odyssey, Part 2

Our visit to Rowan Oak today, Faulkner's home -- a very comfortable and soothing home.

Then we went off to the Clear Creek Recreation Center to do a little strolling and bird watching. Anyone know what those grapefruit-sized things are? Some kind of nut?