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Showing posts from December, 2016

The Satanic Verses by Salman Rushdie

The Satanic Verses by Salman Rushdie My rating: 4 of 5 stars A confounding, challenging book that leaves impactful philosophical impressions! This book is so many things: a weird odd-couple story that crosses the planes, a tale of the immigrant experience in England, and a fable about surrender to religion versus a rigorous adherence to secular science. I found the narrative to be lovely, especially the description of Jahilia's marketplaces, the sounds, smells, all those bright images. Rushdie is working on multiple layers. Jahilia is also the state of ignorance of divine guidance, and it is here that the character Mahound (who is based on Muhammad) is tested. This depiction is one of the largest sources of controversy to this novel, which is supposedly sacrilegious, though it is actually not an attack on Islam or even religion at all. It's a story about life's experiences, and how our perception of the essence of life changes as we change. Throughout the story, we

2016 Mood In Images

George R. R. Martin in Guadalajara

Follow the story wherever it leads.

How Long Do Novels Take? An Infograph


Finish This Sentence: "I was really surprised to find out..."

“I was really surprised to find out…” The author’s sleepy words dribbled off into a mumble.  His wife’s eyes widened. Why couldn’t he be like other men that enjoy football games, movies, and maybe even come to bed at night? Instead he types like a maniac until the no longer wee hours, drinks coffee until four in the morning, and listens to Symphonie Fantastique again and again, his eyes growing a little wider each time the head rolls. She sighed and handed him another cup of inky java. “You asked me to read your last revision… What is this, number twelve now? It’s the last one, right? I don’t understand why you say you are surprised. I’ve been telling you for weeks. Your one-legged elf, the Saci-Pererê , runs away from crosses and leaves a sulfur smell behind, but he’s not the same as the Devil.” “I am just simplifying the folklore for readers who don’t understand the customs.” “It’s incorrect though. Saci-Pererê is from the children’s literature. It’s kinda cute.

Secrets of Barrington Hall - Update

Kyle made this delicious cover for me. I love the art, but not so much the layout. Maybe it should just be called Barrington Hall? Secrets sounds sinister but maybe potential readers will think it's a romance. Needs more blood. I'm going to rewrite it in December from the first person perspective (Bartholomew's) as an experiment to see what I can leach out of his warped mind. It's only 85000 words long, so it won't take long. /s

How Areas of Physics All Relate in One Picture

Big version you can read easier.

Salut Salon - La Dispute

A very different take on Vivaldi. :-)

Goodbye Poem

Adiós, ciao, au revoir Adeus, hamba kahle, Hwyl fawr Adieu, namaste, shalom A salaam alaikum Adéu, peace out, addio Hasta luego, até logo Slán go fóill, Viso gero Paalam, hüvasti, Αντίο Bon voyage, totsiens, hyvästi Aloha, Arrivederci Salve, hiragana, zàijiàn auf Wiedersehen UND...  auf Wiederemailen Bon voyage, vale, deuces Chalky blokes, I’m bout to dip Ta Ta, muthafuckas I’m out Mama Gabrielle, Alaina, Ally, Donna, and Justin: Thanks for sharing all your stories. I really enjoyed this time together. You can email me from the blog if you want to meet up and you can't find me through the wc system. :-)

Uncrossing the Stars

I remember one sunny day in September, sitting on the corner of Dwight and Telegraph, strumming my guitar absent-mindedly—what song is this again?—my myopic eyes in constant scanning patterns, searching crowds, reminiscent of the night before, when I found and lost and found you again. Remember I gave you that American Beauty that my friend plucked from the Cosmic Splat? I still smell its sweet petals somehow. And then we spent the night in a forest of eucalyptus by a running stream and caught the first rays of sunshine in each other’s faces. Yes? But then you left. I remember watching you go, feeling doom settle into my marrow, regretting that I somehow played my stoic card too well, frightened that indifference leaked in with that borrowed Dylan line: we’ll meet again on the Avenue. What do you do, though, when you’re young and your heart is paved with scar tissue? Loving hard hurts. And so I bent strings and searched, but the day was fading, and I needed money, so out ca