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*Takes a flying leap at bandwagon*


"Everyone has things they blog about. Everyone has things they don't blog about. Challenge me out of my comfort zone by telling me something I don't blog about, but you'd like to hear about, and I'll write a post on it."

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Well. Car seems to have gone walkabouts.
Bugger.

Edit: Police have found that council might have it. Enquiring Monday, since they're shut on Sundays. 

Anne McCaffrey

Originally posted by tammy212 at Anne McCaffrey
Anne McCaffrey has died, aged 85.

This isn't so much the case of an author going on to the Summerlands for me as it is a seismic event. I haven't read Ms. McCaffrey's recent books in years, and a number of her books were not my favorites, but that's nothing compared to the impact that DRAGONFLIGHT left on me in the mid-seventies, when the available female heroes in fantasy, though wonderful, were gay or celibate (I was neither), and the available female heroes in science fiction were few and far between, and so often possessed of a dignity I could never aspire to. Lessa of Pern was one of the very few female heroes I understood at a heart-and-soul level.

DRAGONFLIGHT, THE SHIP WHO SANG, THE MARK OF MERLIN (romance), DRAGONSONG, DRAGONSINGER--these are books that are stamped on my heart, like tattoos. I know there are feminists out there who think they are flawed; I think there are some interesting things about SHIP myself. But these books left their mark. They showed me women who took their lives in their own hands as well as the kinds of women who weren't threatened by such women. The kinds of men who didn't walk ahead or behind but beside. The kinds of women who soared and climbed and ran and rescued animals, who had tempers and stumbled ahead, getting into and out of trouble. They were powerful in a way that spoke to me as only a handful of female characters did speak to me across three decades.

At Dragon*Con a couple of years ago I was told she was one of the other authors in the group signing that I was in. I forgot about it until nearly everyone else between us was gone and I looked over to see that famous head of silver poufy hair, bent over a book. I didn't dare get up to say hello, of course. Her fans were waiting and so were mine. And I'm kinda incapable of introducing myself to an author I look up to that much.

But I'm glad I saw her, just that once.

I know they're waiting for you in the Summerlands, Ms. McCaffrey. I know they have plenty of stories they want you to tell.



You Guys Are So Awesome ^_^


Having folks like you for friends totally makes up for eighteen years without. There will be cake. Someday. October. But cake!

Anyway, plan of action:

1) Step One: Stick it out until 1st of October, since Dad will be away most of next week and I can probably keep out of his way until then.

2) Step Two: This will mean he still sends me a stipend every month, which I can save up. I couldn't do if I just walked out now, since Dad might refuse to send it if I leave in a huff.

3) Step Three: If I save up enough I can rent a place in Lancaster come summer, and get a summer job to earn extra money, thereby negating any need to return home.

4) Step Four: Profit! (and freedom)


Roland. Killer of Priests. Scourge of Plot. High on Mushrooms.

One of these things may explain the others.

Writer's Block: Snacks, don't fail me now

When you're feeling down, what comfort foods do you enjoy?

Chocolate is always welcome, although at the moment pringles are a close second.

Crazy crazy Deadlands


This evening, I was almost eaten by an outhouse.

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Roleplaying is weird.

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Alas, Roland has not been made a man. Although to his credit he did manage to rescue a prostitute damsel woman of negotiable affection, so maybe she'll be nice enough to extend credit...


Can brain now. Hooray for jumping on the ramble train!


 

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