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I curse:

I curse: published on

The ridiculous moral imperative associated with copyright law in the minds of western men, women, and otherwise (and those others whose cultures have been affected by us in this respect, and those whose cultures have affected us), and the manner in which the indignation which this alleged imperative generates impedes legal progress in an era whose technology has long since rendered much of said law nonfunctional and at times dangerous to civil liberties, particularly when said law inconveniences me personally.

I say this because the Shounen Jump-style exercise’s magical battle system (I would hope that no one would doubt the presence of a special magical battle system in a thing I call “the Shounen Jump-style exercise”) is mainly about quoting poetry at your enemy. There is an End Boss character called Death in whose name one group of guys fight, while the other group of guys are rebelling against her. So obviously I am thinking that it would be ideal if I could employ the works of Edna St. Vincent Millay.

But I think they’re still under copyright, and I don’t know how her estate would feel about such a business if I ever tried to publish it.

I’d also like to use the New Pornographers.

(How would this harm the sales of poetry anthologies, or MP3s? It would not! The only argument for forbidding me from doing this to people is a belief that they have a right not to be made ridiculous by association with my bad ideas, which right I deny to all men, women, and otherwise, living or dead! Nowhere among the universal rights of humankind is “the right not to have our art look silly or cheap!” If it was in there then we couldn’t have an internet or televangelists, and Baen books wouldn’t be allowed covers.)

Story from half-asleep on the shinkansen

Story from half-asleep on the shinkansen published on

Many years ago, the Good Queen was killed by a usurper Princess, and her only child lost. But the magicians say that the child, the true King or Queen, will come back someday, and make things right. So every ruler since then, no matter what they try to call themselves or what they do to the people, has been called only Prince or Princess.

In the mountains, there live fairies who know ways of taking a human outside of time. The child must be with them, given away by someone loyal to the Good Queen, to protect him or her from the usurper’s blade. But no one who went to look has ever gotten the child back.

The Prince now is very wicked. A young soldier in his army was too kind to an enemy, so he cursed him to become a tiger, to learn cruelty. The woman who loved the young soldier has a witch for a grandmother, though she has not seen her since she was a child. She puts the tiger on a leash and leads him snarling out of the Prince’s city, to the rocky hills where her grandmother once lived, not even sure whether the mad old woman is still alive. She hopes very much that the cure will be to kill the Prince.

Continue reading Story from half-asleep on the shinkansen

Three Things Post

Three Things Post published on

1) Olfactory Rescue Service – A frequently-updated blog of really detailed incense reviews. No, these guys are crazy. BPAL people may want to look at it? (Because BPAL international shipping is expensive, I’m trying to transfer some of my perfume nerdery over to incense, of which Japan has a lot.)

2) Amazon is preventing gay and lesbian books from showing up in searches, something that, given Amazon’s monopoly status, is obviously going to have an impact on their ability to get sold. You can write cuss words to them via their web form, or phone cuss words to them at these numbers provided by rydra_wong.

3) Last night I had a dream involving a very stoic eight-or-nine-year-old boy who was captain of a naval ship, in a very small island country engaged some vaguely Napoleonic-looking war involving dragons. (Though I don’t think that the dream was Temeraire fanfic – I think it’s based on hanging around in Second Life pirate-themed areas with Jenan yesterday, plus Warcraft withdrawal.) When he was on his ship or on the docks, everyone treated him with proper respect, as if it was perfectly normal that a little boy be the ship’s captain. The other captains and the admiral of the fleet often came to consult him, because his knowledge of the weather was unparalleled – he could predict storms and calms days and sometimes weeks in advance.

But the further the captain got from his ship, the more people began to feel that it might be a little strange that a child should be in the navy.

One day he and a few of his crew were betrayed to the enemy. When the captain was carried onto an enemy ship, the spell seemed to break entirely. Suddenly everyone, even those of his own crew who had been taken with him, saw him only as a little boy. As always, his face was quite calm – but a deep sadness fell over him. When left alone on the deck of the enemy ship for a few moments – because he was only a little boy, so what could he do? – he took a small wooden flute out of the pocket of his red greatcoat and began to play. Though it was a summer day and only a little past noon, and the sun was bright and the wind was strong, a little mist began to rise up off the water.

And then I woke up.

Complicated Dreams

Complicated Dreams published on

A girl called the Monkey has been chosen to lead the Host of Heaven, who are made of metal and have no eyes. Much of the world below them is in ruins from the Host’s attempts to conquer the people there. Once they have the Monkey, they will begin the final assault.

So the Monkey has run from them for a long time, having adventures and rescuing people and making new friends, elves and ghosts and animals and humans. She is only thirteen or fourteen, but is probably the greatest martial artist in the world.

Most of her friends think that is why the angels want her. But the quiet and cool-tempered Princess, who is helping to coordinate resistance against the Host, and whom the Monkey has rescued from them over and over and over, thinks there is another reason. Something the Monkey already knows, but does not want to admit to herself. The Monkey keeps her distance from the Princess, telling herself it is to protect her.

Continue reading Complicated Dreams

The Dream City

The Dream City published on

Every once in a while I’ll have a dream of a type I think of as an Ur-Dream. These are dreams that have a moderately coherent story, are aware that they’re dreams, comment on something I’ve been thinking about or reading, seep into/out of whatever I’ve been writing recently, and about which my lighter-weight dreams will henceforth write lots of fanfiction. The Two-and-a-Half Apocalypses Dream was one of these – it contains a lot of complaints about stuff I was working on at the time, and some of the characters and settings have shown up in another dreams since.

(They have titles. Some of them have credits and dedications. The Lightning Key Dream was scored by Bjorn Lynne, with character design by Himekawa Akira and environmental design by Abe Yoshitoshi and CLAMP. The Memory Witch Dream was dedicated to Jim Henson and Tanith Lee, and included appearances by Getting Lost In The Back Yard, Accidentally Sleeping Through Most Of Autumn, and The Confused Sick Person Whose Jacket Is Getting Thin At The Elbows, regular presences in my dreams since grade school.)

This is one from high school. I’m pretty sure I had it around the time I first read Kaori Yuki, because the Count Cain read-through made me think of it and dig my write-up out of the hard drive.

A certain wizard has many towers, can make another by blinking, and each comes out slightly different from the other, but he cannot make a perfect one. Once he has thrown away into a sun enough to fill a small city, he stops making them, because they come from nowhere and he feels the universe will collapse if too much matter unaccounted for comes into it. He keeps seven, in a t-shape, and lives in the center one, which has a library on the bottom floor out of which he has moved all the books, then sat down in and grown depressed.

The wizard and Bianca love unwisely; or rather, those who love Bianca believe that she is unwise to love him, young and powerful as she is, because he is a doddering old fool who can only make towers. Later, Bianca becomes older and sadder, and he can no longer keep her attention.

Continue reading The Dream City

The Terrible Secret

The Terrible Secret published on 1 Comment on The Terrible Secret

We’re required to write a speech in Japanese for this speaking contest the school has. Apparently it’s not optional? I had a sore throat and was feeling kind of gross the day it was due, but nonetheless worked very, very hard on it. When we got them back today, it was gently suggested to me that my speech Would Not Do.

Bullshit. It’s a great speech. Here, look, I translated it for you guys:

Continue reading The Terrible Secret

Happy Made-Up Internet Holiday!

Happy Made-Up Internet Holiday! published on

(What, is it the Feast of Boris again yet?)

In honor of International Pixel-Stained Technopeasant Day, I give you a thingie. It’s presumably not publishable-quality, seeing as no one’s published me yet, but I’m posting it anyway because I think I’m done with it for a while, and it’s distracting me from working on other things.

It’s the prologue to The Nebulous Video Game In My Head, “The Ashdocks”, which is kind of a puzzle-RPG – the plot involves boats, ghosts, swamps, fairies, and people being political, and the gameplay involves a few standard turn-based battles, and a lot of puzzles where you manipulate plants and fungi in various ways to affect the environment, hurt people, heal them, and create new items. You get a limited number of certain types of seeds/roots/etc per stage, and can buy more of others, and all that good video-game-economics stuff.

Because this isn’t Harvest Moon, you can also manipulate the passage of time to get the plants to grow immediately, though there are sometimes side-effects to doing that – grow too many explosive mushrooms in a certain place in such-and-such a space of real-time, and you wear out your soil so that it’s only fit for growing zombies for a while. Which you may or may not want, depending on who you’ve killed recently and what level you are.

(Except that I don’t know how this system works yet, hence the word “nebulous.” This is why I’m never actually going to be a video game designer. The “game” part kind of stumps me.)

If this hasn’t all scared you away, the script is behind the cut.

Continue reading Happy Made-Up Internet Holiday!

My thought process.

My thought process. published on

MALCOLM: I’m going to kill myself.

HIDEO: – what for?

MALCOLM: They keep saying stuff about their souls, I don’t know how you figure out what color and texture your soul is, and if it’s shaped like a little star…

HIDEO: So you are going to kill yourself – not because of all the horrible things that have happened to you – but because there is a religious program on the radio?





I am writing a short story to submit to this anthology! I have had a poor attention span all this semester due to stress and death and panic and self-castigation over my failure to get at least fifty pages of the Worst Cleric Ever book finished by the end of February despite my vow to do so two months previously!

Thus I am posting my unfinished short story here! Here on this Livejournal! Its presence in public where other people can see it will, it is hoped, cause me to immediately see every single one of its flaws in glaring detail (as has been the case with my senior research), allowing me to correct them and understand in a blinding flash of semi-competence how it should be structured! And then I will hurt myself banging my head against the wall but at least I will have finished the stupid short story!

Please do not attempt to tell me things about it! That is not the point of this exercise! The comments are turned off! If you wish you may insult me in two weeks about my discomfort with the first-person POV and its result which is my heroine’s over-the-top “salty”-as-it-is-called language, because in two weeks there will be two weeks left before the first deadline!

Do not tell me I am wrong about things about Sweden! That is also not the point!



Procrastination published on

Rigsin was in the doorway, breathing hard, his steel eye drifting dazedly. It took him a second to summon up language: “There’s a demon outside. I’m a little confused.”

Everyone looked immediately at Teo. He had slammed his book closed. Illogically, he snapped, “I don’t know why you all think it’s about me -”

“‘s not about me!” protested Rigsin. “I asked. (I don’t like talking to demons, you know.) You need me to distract it and you go out the back?”

“- no, I don’t need – I didn’t do anything, damnit -”

Scowling thoughtfully into space, Lyssa asked, “Do demons care if you do something else with bird hearts, do you think?”

Teo stared at her for a second, then said carefully, “Perhaps you’d better stay inside, just in case. I’ll go,” he told Rigsin, standing with a wince and pocketing his book. “It talks?”

“Not so good at it -”

As Teo closed the door, he heard Scarlet saying, blank with hysteria, “‘Something else?'”


DIE BRAIN published on

Goddamnit! “The Celery Queen” sounds like “Ellery Queen!” And Ellery Queen’s a mystery writer! I can’t name my Wispy Clairvoyant Agoraphobe (TM) something that sounds like a mystery writer, it’s… it’s inappropriate.

– but I’ve been calling her that for like two years aaaagh how the hell am I supposed to remember another name now?! –

I must’ve seen the name on a bookshelf and let my brain latch onto it. I hate my brain.

Because you’re a jerk.

Because you’re a jerk. published on

Jicky the Slightly-Self-Actualized Abomination of Science: It would be easier to make a sandwich if my hands weren’t all burnt – all right, there they go. I always have remind my self-healing powers…

Casey the College-Educated Berserker: …okay, look. Are you bored over there?

Jicky: I can’t tell. What do you want me to do?

Casey: Can you work a computer?

Jicky: I’m from space.

Casey: Do they have Windows in space?

Jicky: Yes, but one mustn’t open them.


Jicky: I’m really very sorry. I don’t know why I said that.

I am a *writer*! I have *no time* for your silly little class registration!

I am a *writer*! I have *no time* for your silly little class registration! published on

“- you – you told me to marry her, you didn’t specify *where* or *how* -”

“I told you to marry her within certain obvious unspoken constraints! Don’t ask her to say “obey,” don’t kill her after, find out her last name, and *invite me*! *You dick.*”

I will never finish this book, because I would rather come up with snippy dialogue than figure out the plot.

Tea is necessary.

Tea is necessary. published on

Filenames in the “Magus Anmere: Cyborg Werewolf” folder:


I’m tired and was having to open them to figure out what they were just now. If stuff can surpass its maker and go rogue, my filenames will shortly be rising up against me.

I think the tempo of songs stretches out in the time they spend sitting on CD’s and hard drives. In a thousand years, an advanced civilization will discover the last remaining open Apache server, and be unable to recognize its contents as music, its pace will have so slowed in the intervening centuries.

Status of review of The Hidden Stars – still too sad

Status of Green Lion re-read – half-way through third book; convinced world needs Ceilyn/Tryffin slash

She just likes explaining stuff.

She just likes explaining stuff. published on

“- they’re depressing mountains,” Hero said uncertainly.

Nera had been waiting for him to say something, and this clearly disappointed her. She corrected, “No. They are oppressive mountains. They are coming this way.”

“…sometimes mountains do that just, naturally. Because – there are these plates underground that kind of ram together and -”

“These mountains appear one by one. A dense, wet fog appears in a place where a new mountain is being formed, and something huge and black falls into the fog with a clang like a great bell. Sounds of chisels echo from within – and they echo even when they shouldn’t. Those who enter the fog are lifted up and dropped at random places far away with headaches that linger for up to a year. The fog and the sculptors remain for two months, until one morning the fog lifts, leaving a new mountain already covered with lichen, sparse bushes, and goats, and signed somewhere around the base by its designer. Most of the recent ones are by someone named Chethura; I am told he has admirers in the cities -”

“All right, all right, yeah. Tectonic plates don’t really, have goats.”

I am not studying, at present.

I am not studying, at present. published on

“Haven’t you got a brilliant plan yet, Teo?”

“Several, but thus far they’re all contingent upon the rest of you being rendered unconscious and the moral rectitude of the room so being reduced to tolerable levels.”

Scarlet snorted. “…tolerable…”

“You think I am joking, but I am not. I have a very low tolerance for ethics recently. I was ethical a couple of days ago, and suffered an acute attack of the Violent Illiterati.”

So I gave an awesome presentation last week.

So I gave an awesome presentation last week. published on 1 Comment on So I gave an awesome presentation last week.

That Woman came up to me after and said, sounding kinda surprised, “That was actually quite good.” Soon I shall feast upon her entrails. Of *course* it was a fucking good presentation. It’s because I am fucking *eight million times* smarter than you, you *bitch*. You are a *shitty art teacher* and I am a *genius* who is such a *sophisticated internet user* that I use *asterisks* rather than CAPS LOCK to lend *emphasis* to *words*.

Disclaimer: I am a snob and am about to be completely unfair to my classmates. (But not to the professor, I don’t think.) My excuse is that I’ve hurt my foot and my head feels like gnomes are hammering and sparkling their way out of it. But still, take note – I am going to be an asshole here. You might want to go read a Janet Kagan book or something instead if, you know, you’re not into that kinda thing. Eat some chocolate.

Continue reading So I gave an awesome presentation last week.