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You're not the only member of the walking wounded in this house
1. Arisia. I am very, very tired, but I am counting it a success. Panels, readings, chantey sing, objective evidence indicates they all went well: and all of them were fun. Plus the usual attractions of a convention, people and books. Discussion at the Shakespeare panel reminded me of Lev AC Rosen's All Men of Genius (2011), which I found in the dealer's room immediately afterward; when it turned out I needed a slightly larger purchase (note to self: remember checks), there was handily a small paperback of Jim Butcher's Dead Beat (2005) at the same bookseller's stall. The next afternoon, I found the hardcover of Phyllis Gotlieb's O Master Caliban! (1976), which I hadn't actually realized existed. I got my mother an Edward Gorey T-shirt. I did not spend nearly enough time with ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
cucumberseed. Saturday night, I had dinner with assorted Kesslers and no luck ordering a Bunny Hug (note to self: remember absinthe); Sunday night I bailed on parties and rather too late at night made dinner from a recipe off the Guardian. I met marlowe1 on panels and ajodasso for the first time in person; I got a sticker for the London Calling party and had goat curry with a slightly different assortment of Kesslers tonight in Teele Square. I sang Skin Horse filk with awhyzip. I expect to feel like trains fell on me tomorrow. Tonight, just moderately sized trucks. It was a good con.
2. Downton Abbey. I am enjoying the series, but the pacing is already troubling me—I understand the show isn't interested in being the Foyle's War of World War I, but it's the second episode and we're already in 1917. Given how much I'm told the war was the shadow on the horizon of the first season, it shouldn't be slingshot through in seven episodes. It's producing a weirdly compressed effect; there are several clear storylines moving forward, but we've had three instances now of subplots introduced and resolved within the same episode which I expected to become, if not long-running, then at least more than blinks in the thread of the show. (All three were fleshing out character and setting, not romantic suspense. I can't be the only viewer who prefers history to soap.) And it's been indicated that the PBS broadcasts are being trimmed slightly from their ITV originals, which is completely useless to me. I really don't want to have to wait for the DVDs. You can do that with anything. I will still (as one does) tune in next week and hope the season pulls itself out of second-novel syndrome, but it is reminding me why I do not watch as much television as I read books.
3. Hats. I promised these tostrange_selkie, so blame her for any diminished opinion you may have of me. What my grandfather formally left me was the original Cibachrome print reproduced by Erzebet on the cover of A Mayse-Bikhl. Possibly because no one else wanted them, I have also inherited some of his hats: most notably a black lamb astrakhan and a wolf hat. They are vintage. The wolf hat—by which I do not mean the hat a wolf would wear, or a wolf-resembling hat, but a hat made out of actual wolfskin—almost certainly dates from the fifties, but my mother believes the astrakhan originally belonged to her grandfather, my great-grandfather Noah. All photographs were taken around one in the morning on Sunday, after my longest day of programming, hence the thousand-yard-stare. The wolf hat sheds on everything.
Fig. 1. In which I wear the astrakhan and a not too punch-drunk expression, although the pose may be unintentionally stylin'.
Fig. 2. The wolf hat makes its appearance.
Fig. 3. I cannot believe there is a wolf hat on my head.
Fig. 4. There was also this flat cap.
(Fig. 5. Bonus wolf hat. This is not some kind of Soviet joke: the wolf hat does wear you.)
Bed.
cucumberseed. Saturday night, I had dinner with assorted Kesslers and no luck ordering a Bunny Hug (note to self: remember absinthe); Sunday night I bailed on parties and rather too late at night made dinner from a recipe off the Guardian. I met marlowe1 on panels and ajodasso for the first time in person; I got a sticker for the London Calling party and had goat curry with a slightly different assortment of Kesslers tonight in Teele Square. I sang Skin Horse filk with awhyzip. I expect to feel like trains fell on me tomorrow. Tonight, just moderately sized trucks. It was a good con.2. Downton Abbey. I am enjoying the series, but the pacing is already troubling me—I understand the show isn't interested in being the Foyle's War of World War I, but it's the second episode and we're already in 1917. Given how much I'm told the war was the shadow on the horizon of the first season, it shouldn't be slingshot through in seven episodes. It's producing a weirdly compressed effect; there are several clear storylines moving forward, but we've had three instances now of subplots introduced and resolved within the same episode which I expected to become, if not long-running, then at least more than blinks in the thread of the show. (All three were fleshing out character and setting, not romantic suspense. I can't be the only viewer who prefers history to soap.) And it's been indicated that the PBS broadcasts are being trimmed slightly from their ITV originals, which is completely useless to me. I really don't want to have to wait for the DVDs. You can do that with anything. I will still (as one does) tune in next week and hope the season pulls itself out of second-novel syndrome, but it is reminding me why I do not watch as much television as I read books.
3. Hats. I promised these to
strange_selkie, so blame her for any diminished opinion you may have of me. What my grandfather formally left me was the original Cibachrome print reproduced by Erzebet on the cover of A Mayse-Bikhl. Possibly because no one else wanted them, I have also inherited some of his hats: most notably a black lamb astrakhan and a wolf hat. They are vintage. The wolf hat—by which I do not mean the hat a wolf would wear, or a wolf-resembling hat, but a hat made out of actual wolfskin—almost certainly dates from the fifties, but my mother believes the astrakhan originally belonged to her grandfather, my great-grandfather Noah. All photographs were taken around one in the morning on Sunday, after my longest day of programming, hence the thousand-yard-stare. The wolf hat sheds on everything. Fig. 1. In which I wear the astrakhan and a not too punch-drunk expression, although the pose may be unintentionally stylin'.
Fig. 2. The wolf hat makes its appearance.
Fig. 3. I cannot believe there is a wolf hat on my head.
Fig. 4. There was also this flat cap.
(Fig. 5. Bonus wolf hat. This is not some kind of Soviet joke: the wolf hat does wear you.)
Bed.
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We haven't been watching Downton Abbey here in our house - I keep debating it, and then remembering that I tend not to overly love British Class Dramas. But one of these days when I have time on my hands...
Do tell me you've been watching Sherlock, though.
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Thank you!
I keep debating it, and then remembering that I tend not to overly love British Class Dramas. But one of these days when I have time on my hands...
I have been told the first season was the kind of television viewers will still be talking about years later. I haven't yet seen it for myself.
Do tell me you've been watching Sherlock, though.
No! I like both Benedict Cumberbatch and Martin Freeman, but I grew up on Jeremy Brett and it was unclear from the show's first few episodes whether I would like the re-characterizations at all. I take it you recommend?
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Thank you! I'm actually not sure how wearable the wolf hat is on a daily basis, due to the shedding, but it's an amazing object.
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It's a pity about the trimming of the episodes.
Nice hats! (I almost wrote "Nize Hats!" Jägermonsters are apparently having an influence on me.) And those are actually nice photographs.
I wish you comfort and pleasant rest, and hope you'll only be feeling as if very small trains fell on you.
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I made the chicken, chorizo, and peppers, although I had no fresh thyme and I changed up the cooking times a little. It was not at all complicated and very delicious.
I've not had goat in ages--should try to remedy that sometime soon.
It's one of my favorite meats.
Nice hats! (I almost wrote "Nize Hats!" Jägermonsters are apparently having an influence on me.) And those are actually nice photographs.
Thank you!
The wolf hat is a pretty Jäger thing, yeah.
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It was an excellent con, and I am happy we paneled together.
Nine
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Thank you! It is my hope.
I cannot believe there is a wolf hat on my head.
Burns Supper.
Re: I cannot believe there is a wolf hat on my head.
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If I can persuade myself it won't shed too much into the haggis . . .
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I love the cap.
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I've also been warned I shouldn't store them together.
I love the cap.
Thank you!
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Bunny Hug?
Sleep well.
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Thank you!
Bunny Hug?
A terrifying Prohibition-era cocktail: equal parts gin, whisky, and absinthe. The Savoy Cocktail Book, after listing the recipe, famously recommends: "This cocktail should immediately be poured down the sink before it is too late."
(Too many of them—which may be only one—are once drunk to adverse effect by one of the characters depicted in this icon.)
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Nine
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Thank you! Now if only the weather would oblige . . .
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People have been recommending Jim Butcher to me for ages now, so I'm thinking that may be the next series of books I tackle now that I have all manner of down-time. My first project since touching down here was King's Dark Tower series, which I had started a long time ago, but abandoned due to a fit of boredom early in the second book.
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Thank you!
People have been recommending Jim Butcher to me for ages now, so I'm thinking that may be the next series of books I tackle now that I have all manner of down-time.
Most of my thoughts about The Dresden Files are here (post and comments) with fan-related addenda. Basically, I don't think he's a great writer—he started with a throw-together of urban fantasy clichés and then sort of bootstrapped his way into three dimensions along with his protagonist, meaning there are certain immutable facts about the world, like its metaphysics, that are just a mess—but he's improved visibly with each book and he's almost at the point where he can really pull off the complex emotional effects he's started to aim for. I don't know if the language will ever be more than serviceable, but at least it's serviceable with a high proportion of quotable lines. The secondary characters are terrific; Butters is the one I imprinted on, but I've become fond of Thomas and Molly as well. There's an astonishing pull of and then what happened? I wouldn't bother with the first book, though. If I hadn't been actively invested in getting to the later ones, it would have stopped me cold and permanently.
If you want actually, painfully good urban fantasy, you want to read Tim Pratt's Marla Mason.
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(Wolf hat!)
...Also, wow, that is a LOT of filk.
Glad you're not feeling TOO much like you got run over by the internet.
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(PS: I also think the flat cap suits you nicely.)
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Hee! Thank you.
(PS: I also think the flat cap suits you nicely.)
Just so long as you can wear one with a leather jacket. I can't afford an overcoat right now.
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What is second-novel syndrome? Is there also first, third, etc -novel syndrome?
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Good to know!
What is second-novel syndrome? Is there also first, third, etc -novel syndrome?
Second-novel syndrome is the phenomenon whereby second novels are often, counterintuitively, less impressive than their authors' first novels, because a first novel with no fixed destination can take as long as it needs to be tweaked and polished and nth-drafted into its final correct state, while the second novel is now under pressure of expectations and deadlines and must be delivered; it's not so much that people freeze as that—unless they have a backlog—they have to start as much from scratch as with the first novel, but they don't have the same space to work it out in. Combined with the very reasonable desire to be more ambitious with the second book than with the first, you've got syndrome.
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The astrakhan is styling.
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We are going to remedy this. With or without the next convention.
The astrakhan is styling.
Thank you!
Downton A
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Interesting. I've been assuming that Matthew and William are being set up as the sacrificial youth of World War I (which is one of the reasons I was so interested in the subplots presenting alternate narratives: the cook's nephew who was shot for cowardice, Thomas who got out with a self-inflicted "Blighty" before the same could happen to him, Branson who wanted to make the political statement of conscientious objection, Lang who cannot get enough distance from the war to begin to heal from it). I don't know if I will consider it better or worse storytelling if they survive.
It's nice to see Edith and Mary turn into human beings, though - my theory after the first series was that they'd get into a knife fight with each other and both die of tetanus, but I think it's better the way it is.
*snerk*
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Not at all! Thank you.
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Abbey and all that.
A series i highly recommend for an arisia type crowd would be the "Murdoch Mysteries" - about a detective working 1890's Toronto. Very well written, great characters and an occasional historical figure showing up. so far: Nikola Tesla, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, and HG Wells. the show has a real retro-futurism feel. I could have used that hat last night on my bike ride home... good to hear that arisia went well. i liked it more than last year ...though i think i was quite daft on one of my panels. hope you don't mind me commenting here. cheers!
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I don't know; I missed the first season entirely.
"Murdoch Mysteries" - about a detective working 1890's Toronto.
I've never even heard of the series! I do like Tesla, though . . .