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bloodyrosemccoyThe vegetable garden has met with the approval of Fern, the official Supervisor of the Outsides. She was suspicious at first, as she always is when she catches me in the Outsides, but after keeping a close eye on me for a while she demonstrated her acceptance of the new patch of dirt by rolling around in it, then sitting herself down firmly next to the starter plants waiting to be transferred. I think that’s a good thing.
It would seem that the demon that possesses me in art supply stores has a twin in the garden store. I planted the bought-in-a-fit-of-madness seeds today, and if autumn tarries I will have more pretty vegetables than I know what to do with. I mean, for god’s sake—RAINBOW CORN. How can you turn down goddamn RAINBOW CORN?
Answer: you can’t. I planted some today. Let’s hope this year’s autumn lasts as long as its winter did.
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I have started using junior readers as conlang translation exercises. I have extremely strong opinions about junior reader books, namely that most of them stink. (A plague upon you, Dick and Jane! Plague, plague, plague. And don’t get me started on the madness that is Dr. Seuss.)
However, you can still find some good ones that actually tell a story, instead of just talking down to kids in the name of reading. Jane O’Connor’s Fancy Nancy is damn cute but is a bit difficult to translate to an alien language, since she likes to toss in French words, and it's not easy to get across that French = fancy. Mo Willems’ Elephant and Piggie books are excellent, though, and honest-to-god make me laugh. And right now I’m loving Dav Pilkey’s Dragon books. I still need to translate a few concepts, but they do help solidify some of the core grammar and vocabulary.
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Speaking of dragons, I have begun fleshing out dragons for the OGYAFE. There are many approaches to dragonbuilding, but I have decided on one that surprises no one: realism. My mantra shall be WWDAD?—What Would David Attenborough Do? It seems to be working.
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Book Club has assigned another brick to read: Brandon Sanderson’s The Way of Kings. I hadn’t read Sanderson before, but I was already sick of him: he’s a Utah author, and therefore every self-important Utah fantasy nerd feels compelled to share stories proving that Brandon Sanderson is their Close Personal Super Best Friend.*
So imagine my chagrin when I started this book and discovered that it is AWESOME. God damn you, Brandon Sanderson! God damn you and your excellent, toady-attracting writing skills! You are making it very difficult for me to dislike you for something that is out of your hands!
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Mom’s friend has been our houseguest for a few weeks, on account of her home life suddenly becoming extremely awkward. I haven't mentioned it because I never know how much of it is my story to tell, nor whether it will turn legally awkward if I blurt stuff out, but I must say it has been an interesting experience. It is a little unsettling to hear her talk about how awesome we all are. As Mom says, we seem to be the ones people turn to in times of crisis, like we project steadiness. We find this absolutely hilarious.
*No, I’m not exaggerating: One club meeting consisted entirely of a pissing contest between two members about who had exchanged more emails with him.
It would seem that the demon that possesses me in art supply stores has a twin in the garden store. I planted the bought-in-a-fit-of-madness seeds today, and if autumn tarries I will have more pretty vegetables than I know what to do with. I mean, for god’s sake—RAINBOW CORN. How can you turn down goddamn RAINBOW CORN?
Answer: you can’t. I planted some today. Let’s hope this year’s autumn lasts as long as its winter did.
---
I have started using junior readers as conlang translation exercises. I have extremely strong opinions about junior reader books, namely that most of them stink. (A plague upon you, Dick and Jane! Plague, plague, plague. And don’t get me started on the madness that is Dr. Seuss.)
However, you can still find some good ones that actually tell a story, instead of just talking down to kids in the name of reading. Jane O’Connor’s Fancy Nancy is damn cute but is a bit difficult to translate to an alien language, since she likes to toss in French words, and it's not easy to get across that French = fancy. Mo Willems’ Elephant and Piggie books are excellent, though, and honest-to-god make me laugh. And right now I’m loving Dav Pilkey’s Dragon books. I still need to translate a few concepts, but they do help solidify some of the core grammar and vocabulary.
---
Speaking of dragons, I have begun fleshing out dragons for the OGYAFE. There are many approaches to dragonbuilding, but I have decided on one that surprises no one: realism. My mantra shall be WWDAD?—What Would David Attenborough Do? It seems to be working.
---
Book Club has assigned another brick to read: Brandon Sanderson’s The Way of Kings. I hadn’t read Sanderson before, but I was already sick of him: he’s a Utah author, and therefore every self-important Utah fantasy nerd feels compelled to share stories proving that Brandon Sanderson is their Close Personal Super Best Friend.*
So imagine my chagrin when I started this book and discovered that it is AWESOME. God damn you, Brandon Sanderson! God damn you and your excellent, toady-attracting writing skills! You are making it very difficult for me to dislike you for something that is out of your hands!
---
Mom’s friend has been our houseguest for a few weeks, on account of her home life suddenly becoming extremely awkward. I haven't mentioned it because I never know how much of it is my story to tell, nor whether it will turn legally awkward if I blurt stuff out, but I must say it has been an interesting experience. It is a little unsettling to hear her talk about how awesome we all are. As Mom says, we seem to be the ones people turn to in times of crisis, like we project steadiness. We find this absolutely hilarious.
*No, I’m not exaggerating: One club meeting consisted entirely of a pissing contest between two members about who had exchanged more emails with him.
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Date: 2011-06-07 07:13 pm (UTC)Maybe he procrastinates by writing other books because the alternative is going out and being around other Utah people.
I am guessing that's not it, since he teaches at BYU, the weirdest university ever, after getting his degree there. He's a Nebraska native but still a Mormon (there is a difference between Utah Mormons and other Mormons--I'm guessing having to do with whether or not they're a majority), so he probably fits in pretty well.