12 May: Mick and I are starting to build a routine. We run round all the bathrooms this morning and I learn something of the level of detail required; less than I’ve been using. We have to use WD-40 on a few locks to get into the toilet roll holders, and that works well. We also do some work on the group camp, which is almost finished now.

Jack comes around to say hi and collect the week’s take, and to help walk me through the paperwork which I almost, but not quite, got right. I have a patient teacher and think I’ll have the hang of it by next week.

A pair of seniors wanders in and I check them in; this is my first time honoring the senior pass and asking someone to do something other than they already did (apparently it’s forest regulations that you back into your space).

Today is a gorgeous day. The sun shines through most of it and we get our work done by about two. Mick goes home for his weekend leaving it as just us two chickens. DH sets up a muffin fan to dry out our flooded floor (thanks to the broken valve) and I try to sew the broken footrest of our recliner back together. It’s a waste of time because the first time DH puts his feet up there everything rips out.

Later, I do rounds and DH and I explore some nearby campsites. There is a steep drop, almost a cliff, very close and we also find the large central fire circle. A woodpecker is nearby and there are dozens of Steller’s jays. They have fabulous color, like flying sapphires.

I'm looking down the timeline ahead of me over the next few months and wondering how I'll find the time - and places - to successfully sing out the news about the novel. I have ideas, and I have an amazing support network - a husband, a lot of author friends, the people I've met and befriended in the reading world, publishing world, and bookselling world - but it's still daunting.

I suppose if I could influence them with demonic possession and make them do my PR work for me, that would help.

Nah. I'll stick to the more generic plans...

"Popo Bawa," by David Holly

The next story up in Erotica Exotica, and involves the most unique demon I've read about. Also tentacle sex. It's definitely the story in the collection that gave me a mix of the shivers and the grins.

A young couple bump into the supernatural when they're stranded in the middle of nowhere through a dead car. They take shelter from a storm, and wake up to the aforementioned tentacles, and find that they've garnered the attention of a very persistent - and highly oversexed - demon that would like them to do something very specific for him.

Something they don't want to do.

11 May: I clean more toilets in the morning; I’m still too slow but I’m getting faster. There’s a father and son camping together who I check in while exchanging bad, five-year-old-level jokes for the benefit of the kid. The kid, however, is shy and keeps to the background.

I have dances with chipmunks today. They get into the breezeways, or supply closets, and this one was very surprised when I opened it up today. I didn’t know that chipmunks could go up vertical walls. It refuses to come out while I’m standing there; I take a step forward and it shoots back into the closet. Only when I step around the corner does it make good its escape.

The chipmunks are a nuisance, because they rip up toilet paper to make nests with, and create a godawful mess. Their redeeming grace is that they are insanely cute.

When I was younger, I loved comic books. Specifically, I loved the X-men, because I could identify with them. They were outsiders (check!), they had to be afraid that people would find out what they truly were (check!), and no matter how hard they tried, they would always be mutants, and different from everyone else (check!).

Eventually, X-men led me to other comics, and that included Alpha Flight (because they were Canadian, even if they were sort of sad compared to the X-men). And Northstar came out. It was over-the-top and melodramatic (but it was a comic book, so that was fine) and I was stunned. A gay superhero? Was that even allowed?

Over the years, of course, Marvel (and to a much lesser degree, DC) have thickened the ranks of the queer superhero lineup, and graphic novels have become far more pervasive - and that's a good thing. I've read some phenomenal graphic novels over the years, and some of them include gay characters. Things change. They mutate, as it were.

And the world still hates and fears them...

"Artifice," by Alex Woolfson

Is it fair to do a Short Story 365 entry about a graphic novel? Well, here's the thing. It's my blog, and at 112 pages or so, Artifice is complex, well-written, and engaging from the get-go. The set-up is this: an artificial construct (in the form of a handsome young man, naturally) has reported back from a mission where things went incredibly south from the actual goal, and he made decisions that seem to be contrary to all programming and rules of the corporation who is debriefing him. His refusal to obey orders Because of a young man he met at the mission site.

That this fellow is gay is only part of the tale. The society in which this story takes place is not a good one - the "gay gene" has been isolated (and for the most part removed) and the glimpse of how ruthless this corporation seems to be, and how free they are to be so callous, is a sign of how far things have progressed in a dark direction. Why this artificial construct acted the way it did - and the ultimate resolution of what every step was - and is - is deeply satisfying. I loved this one.

(Oh, and I'm also going to point out that for the gay superhero lover in me, Woolfson also has another webcomic series going - "The Young Protectors" while I will likely discuss on a later date, about a group of young superheroes, one of which is gay.)

A little drama at Deb's...

By Gaedhal





( Part 16Collapse )

This morning, I packed up and moved back home to the Lost Apartment after Bram Stoker Weekend Featuring World Horror Convention.

Did I mention I was also the convention chair? Fifteen months of organizing, coordinating and planning. But now it's all over.

It was pretty exhilirating, exhausting, tense, nerve-wracking yet at the same time it was amazing and I had a remarkable time. I was pretty much on the go every day from about eight until sometime around nine or ten every evening since Wednesday; plus all the social interaction, meeting new people--for someone who is a bit on the reclusive side, it was emotionally draining as well as physically. But I got to spend time with old friends--Michael Rowe, Vince Liaguno, William Holden, Lisa Morton, Heather Graham--and made lots of new ones. I also got to get to know some people I knew only slightly much better, which was also rather nice and delightful. The Hotel Monteleone is, of course, a GORGEOUS hotel in the Quarter, and of course, New Orleans is New Orleans. Everyone was really lovely, and there was lots of laughter, lots of drinking (LORD, did I drink a lot) and very little sleep.

I rather stupidly thought I might be able to get some writing, editing, and reading accomplished while I was there, but of course that was an incredibly stupid thought. By the time I limped back to my room every night, I was so tired all I could do was fall into bed, where I would go into a half-sleep if I was lucky, and then would roll out of the bed around six every morning to brew some coffee in the Keurig and figure out what I had to do all day--as well as anticipate fires and come up with possible solutions.

There were very few glitches, and I most definitely have to give a shout-out to Rocky Wood, president of the Horror Writers Association, who was so easy to work with and very organized and on top of things, as was my hotel rep, the lovely and talented Sheila Vincent.

And now, I need to figure out what all I have fallen horribly behind on, and make a list, and get back to work.

Whew.

10 May We work in the group camp today, raking and removing trash. We rake at the road edge to make things look neat; this is a nice-looking camp and we’re pleased with how it’s shaping up. Mick does other tasks and I find that the bathrooms are taking me far too long to clean.

I do a complete hose-down of one and have issues with organizing everything and getting it in the right order. The hoses are stiff, heavy and unwieldy. I’m tired and frustrated by day’s end, feeling that after a good start I actually don’t know what the heck I’m doing.

I feel that if I’m going to be spending an hour on each block there aren’t going to be enough hours in the day to do all of this properly.

DH has his own problems when I get in. There’s a valve leaking somewhere between the bladder and the main tank. It looks as if it may be pretty hard to get to…