Archive for February, 2002

Batlh pothl law` yIn pothl puS

Wednesday, February 13th, 2002

Batlh pothl law` yIn pothl puS

It’s up. That was even more hellish to convert to HTML than I expected - I did it all with style, especially the float element. Janeway: The Musical! a.k.a. Filk of La Mancha is available for your humming-along pleasure. Here’s the summary:

Imagine Janeway tilting at interstellar windmills, her loyal bumpkin squire Chakotay tagging along for the ride, Seven of Nine in the role of Aldonza the whore, and the crew of Voyager as the chorus. Frightening, no?

It’s been a long time coming - the first filk of the album was my first filk ever, lo those eighteen months ago. Afterwards I talked a lot about filking the whole musical, and even filked a song or two at a time, but I finally sat down and forced myself to finish it this past weekend.

There are plenty more filks, including another whole album, on the filk page. I’ve also put up a Copyleft page and Jade’s new story, No Mere Fantasy, which she co-wrote with Consy. I think that qualifies as a site update, even without the face-lift.

In the original Klingon…

Monday, February 11th, 2002

In the original Klingon…

I alleged recently in Zendom that I wasn’t much of a geeky Trek fan, just a writer who happened to write Voyager stories. Now, however, I’ve crossed the line into true fannishness - I wrote a Klingon filk of the Latin psalm in Man of La Mancha. Filk of La Mancha is now done and should be up here soon. Maybe I’ll even get around to the facelift…


Sunday, February 10th, 2002


You know that add a new blog link on Blogger? It’s tempting me. All the moribund pages here, like the Buffybot Memorial, could become blogs.

Nah. I can’t afford the maintenance, but I am planning a facelift for all the non-Trek pages. Also, the latest Buffy script, 112doublemeatpalace, is now searchable in the wiki. Gotta link that thing…


Wednesday, February 6th, 2002


Seema has struck again in the Blog Wars, and she even linked her volley. I’m still working on wiki authentication, so that it will remember the few, the proud, the registered users, instead of listing us as TWikiGuest. Don’t hold your breath, though.

I promised a fic fragment, didn’t I? Here goes nothing…

He woke up the next night with a splitting headache, the sort he usually got after dreaming about tasty human happy meals, but he couldn’t remember the dream.

“No rest for the dead,” he muttered, as he pulled on his jeans one leg at a time. He sniffed his shirt - musty, but not yet offensive - and slipped it on. Add one duster and presto, a vamp-about-town.

He was a picture of bloodless cool, leaping up the ladder and out the door of his crypt, striding faster than a human being really could across the dewy grass, going unnoted down the dark streets of Sunnydale, stopping at Buffy’s. He loitered a bit in silence, for old times’ sake, then knocked.

Dawn let him in. Time was, they wouldn’t have wanted the vamp in the house - that was some time ago. He was pretty high up in the white-hat hierarchy now - he hadn’t broken Dawn’s arm, like Willow, or summoned a demon into town to kill the populace softly with his song, like Xander, or left Buffy to fend for herself, like Giles, or fallen in love with the wrong loser in amnesia, like Anya, or left his girl to do the Twelve Steps on her own, like Tara, or committed a thousand little teen sins that seemed so significant to the living, like Dawn. No, Spike was way up there with the Slayer herself - but the Slayer had slept with a vampire, a soulless vampire, leaving Spike the good guy of the year.

Except you couldn’t win that award unless you had a soul, too.

“Nice necklace,” he told Dawn. “New?”

“One of my friends gave it to me.”

“Right.” Being a vampire was as good as being a soddin’ polygraph. The li’l bit’s capillaries dilated tellingly, but he wasn’t the costume-jewelry police. He was just the pet vampire.

“Buffy will be right down,” she assured him. “Buffy!” she shouted, to guarantee it.

The Slayer came down the stairs, reluctantly, Spike thought.

“How about a patrol?” he asked.

“I don’t know.”

“Warren’s up to no good.”

“What else is new?” she asked, but she followed him out the door, telling Dawn not to wait up.

Spike told her his story as they headed for the industrial park.

“It could be a trap,” she said once he was through.

“Why trap you? They’re not vampires.”

“They could be planning to go over.”

“They’re not the type.”

“There’s a type?”

He turned towards her as they walked along. “Yeah. You’re not the type either.”

“I doubt they’d have let me into Slayer school if I were.”

Once Twenty-Eight

Monday, February 4th, 2002

Once Twenty-Eight

O blog, I hardly knew ye!

I don’t know how I got so busy, either. I certainly have no fic to show for it, though I did see the Patriots come <>this close to snatching defeat from the jaws of victory like a real New England team.

It’s just going to be one of those years.

As part of the Feedback: Get Over It backlash against the Feedback Now! movement, I hereby absolve all my readers of feedback guilt. If you’ve sent me email in the past, you’ve done your bit. Let the newbies do the young-and-enthusiastic feedback thing.

Of course that’s easy for me to say when I’m not writing anything. And it doesn’t apply to the ASC Awards, either. (Pardon me while I shudder at the thought of all the VOY I got behind on.) I am *not* reading VS7.5 just because they posted it to ASC. Penny is wonderful, and I’ve always meant to read Rocky’s longer stuff, but I just don’t have a virtual season’s worth of free time in my life. Does “I’m sure I would have loved this if I’d had the time to read it” count as feedback for the ASC Awards?

In the spirit of brevity (fic fragments are supposed to be brief, Lori) and muse exhaustion, I think I’ll join the lemmings and go into blogfic. It’s about my speed these days.

But wait! I did have something to say. My rant on Fic Taxes is up at Zendom, as is the ongoing feedback survey. There are only a few days left to take the latter.

The Hemingway Hoax

Sunday, February 3rd, 2002

  Puppy:  retired
  Word of the day:  minion

My, I’m behind. I want to mention The Hemingway Hoax, and newly outstanding are The Uplift War and a re-read of The Martian Chronicles. I tried to read Cherryh’s Cyteen, but I found it implausible that so much could be alleged to have changed about man, while the politics were still like something out of Disraeli. It was so thick I couldn’t face infinitely many more chapters like the first few I’d read. Downbelow Station, on the other hand, held my interest the entire time, although the level she was writing at was not one I’d like to see another author try. I suppose it was a distance from the many characters like Kim Stanley Robinson held, although the characters themselves were more likeable. The plot was good, if, again, more politics than science. Cherryh is a nice author to visit but I wouldn’t want to read all her fic.

The Hemingway Hoax by Joe Haldeman, started out very, very well. The sci-fi bits were few and far between, but the character and plot were so good I kept right on reading. However, the book didn’t go in the direction that I expected (which was saving the Earth). Instead, the main character lost everything in a series of universe-hops, and eventually turned into someone else in the convoluted and unsatisfying ending. I’m not even sure whether or not he died. I’m not going to run out and read more Joe Haldeman (though I do have to hunt down The Forever War someday) - there can only be one Kurt Vonnegut, fooling the masses into thinking he’s not writing scifi, and fooling the scifi readers into thinking he is. Joe Haldeman is no Kurt Vonnegut.