paleololigo

My first crush

National Blog Posting Month – February 2013 – Love

Prompt – Tell us about your first crush.

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I’ve had a lot of crushes in my life. Some with people I actually knew, and some with celebrities. I haven’t really outgrown crushes. I still have them. The difference is now I know them for what they are and can generally move on from them relatively rapidly – or at least keep them from continuously occupying my entire consciousness.

I think the first time I had a crush on a boy that was the same age as me was in middle school. There may have been a boy or two that I liked in elementary school, too, but I’m not sure those were full-blown crushes.

But my first *real* crush was on a celebrity. Complete, head-over-heels crushiness. No. Actually, it wasn’t a celebrity. It was a character in a movie (played by an actor who I still find attractive, actually, though not to the level of ‘crush’ these days). Who was it?

Indiana Jones

I read the book, then saw the movie, Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom, when I was maybe in 5th grade. I know I was in elementary school. Boy howdy! Did I think Indiana Jones was one fine human being. I would weave elaborate tales with him and me going off and having adventures together. I bought a bull whip. I yearned for a fedora. I had a length of thick wire that was a stand in for a whip, because I couldn’t figure out how to make the real one work like Indy did. I would play Indiana Jones all the time.

It’s funny that now, as an adult, I recognize that Temple of Doom was probably the worst of the Indiana Jones movies (we don’t talk at all about Kingdom of the Crystal Skull, however. *gag*). Raiders of the Lost Ark, when it was new, was far too much for me. It terrified me. Today I quite enjoy it, though it still look away when everyone melts there at the end. The Last Crusade was an excellent movie, and by the time it came out, I was old enough to appreciate it as such. By then, my crush was over, replaced by one on a school-mate of mine. *sigh*

Be it for better or worse, I have not yet ‘outgrown’ crushes, despite being much older and married to a decent and loving fellow. I guess that feeling of wanting to be swept off my feet hasn’t gone away. But with a few years of experience, at least I know the typical outcome of crushes and know better than to expect anything to come from them.

They’re called crushes because they’ll never actually happen, at least not the way you want them to, so your heart gets crushed. Either you’ll never actually meet the person you’re crushing on (in the case of celebrities), or you do meet them and they turn out to be nothing like you imagined. Crushes are best left alone. They can be fun, but nothing to base your future on.

For 2-4-13

Tracks in the snow have a tale to tell

I have lost my muse today, so I just thought I’d post some interesting photos. This morning I saw a bunch of footprints in the snow in front of the kitchen window. Clearly something happened.

Here’s a slightly closer view.

Closer up of the center of the action. I don't know what's in the middle there. I imagine it's what's left of someone's dinner. — Closer up of the center of the action. I don’t know what’s in the middle there. I imagine it’s what’s left of someone’s dinner.

Here, I’ve labeled the tracks I recognized.

The study of tracks and trackways left by animals is called ichnology. Yes, people make a career of this kind of work. So, put on your ichnologist hat. What do you think the story is here?

I said, “I love you!”

National Blog Posting Month – February 2013 – Love

Prompt – When was the last time you said, “I love you.”?

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It seems fitting that the NaBloPoMo theme for February should be “Love.” This prompt was actually for yesterday, but since I always post headlines on Fridays, I thought I’d post this today.

I guess I’m fortunate. I say “I love you” daily. If not to my husband, then to my son. Usually to both. Hopefully that means we have a good thing going on.

The boy is 8 years old, and I still love him. Maybe more now than I ever did before. He’s a challenge. He can push my buttons. Of course, that’s what kids do, right? He’s also on the autism spectrum, which can make for some completely awful challenges. But he’s a good, well-meaning kid, and I do love him.

The husband and I have been married for 11 years, and we still love each other. Of course, that doesn’t mean we haven’t had dark and rocky times. We’ve had those, too. But we’re still happier together than not together, and we’re working hard to keep the day-to-day BS from tearing us apart. Yup, we still love each other, despite the billion or so things that conspire to keep us apart.

I’m a lucky one, that’s for sure.

For 2-1-13

Friday Headlines: 2-1-13

Friday Headlines, February 1, 2013

THE LATEST IN THE GEOSCIENCES

TAPEWORM EGGS DISCOVERED IN 270 MILLION YEAR OLD FOSSIL SHARK FECES

Do I really need to say more? It’s an intestinal parasite…

…in fossil shark poop.

Ew.

Two related headlines here:

STUDY REBUTS HYPOTHESIS THAT COMET ATTACKS ENDED 9,000-YEAR-OLD CLOVIS CULTURE

PREHISTORIC HUMANS NOT WIPED OUT BY COMET, SAY RESEARCHERS

Comet, asteroid, and meteor impacts have been blamed for several of the Earth’s greatest extinctions, including the one at the Cretaceous-Tertiary (K-T) Boundary that led to the extinction of the dinosaurs (and later dominance of mammals). It’s only natural then, when an extinction is identified in Earth’s history, to take a moment and look for evidence of an impact.

The Clovis culture disappeared from North America about 9,000 years ago. That’s similar to when many of North America’s ‘megafauna,’ or giant animals, went extinct, like the woolly mammoth and giant ground sloth. For the extinction of the megafauna, most arguments hinge around human over-hunting or climate change, because that was about the same time that humans made it onto North America and it was also the end of the last glaciation.

There are some, however, who argue that an impact event caused the extinction of the megafauna and then also the demise of the Clovis culture. There was even a Nova documentary about it. Alas, the newest and best evidence soundly rebuts this idea. There are no impact craters from that time period (though it’s been argues that the comet hit the ice cap). There’s no shocked minerals either. Minerals take on the appearance of being disrupted (or shocked) due to the force of impacts. Shocked quartz is common from the K-T boundary event, but there is none associated with this 9,000 year old event. No impact occurred.

The downside is that we still don’t know what happened to the Clovis people.

Beware of Movies! Climate Change

The Beware of Movies! series is meant to point out some of the scientific inaccuracies of popular movies, specifically in points related to the geological sciences.

This post will point out the major inaccuracies portrayed in movies about climate change, and how it would affect the Earth.

Climate change is a sensitive topic. It’s become politically charged. It’s now taboo to talk about it in polite company. I’m not here to incite riots. I have my opinions that, though I won’t state them explicitly, they’ll probably be obvious. My objective here is to talk about how we understand climate change, how we can infer that it is happening. I want to demystify all the numbers and data points and graphics that we’re bombarded with every day.Continue reading “Beware of Movies! Climate Change”

Prince of Herongarde – Another Excerpt

So here’s the thing: I’m working on the Prince of Herongarde manuscript right now. It needs some TLC. Don’t really want to distract myself by writing a regular blog post. So, excerpt it is! Enjoy!

————-

Trey stepped under the awning and paused for a moment, waiting for his eyes to adjust to the shade. The keeper approached him quickly, bowing repeatedly. “My Lord! Your Highness!”

“Please,” said Trey, waving the man off. “Is her Majesty here?”

“Aye, my Lord. She dines with other Ladies within.”

“Good,” said Trey as he entered the small tavern. Patrons looked up, many standing and bowing as he entered. He ignored it, finding it annoying. He needed to speak to his mother. He spotted her sitting with Markus’s wife at a far table.

“Mother,” he said as he approached. “Might I have a word with you?”

Tessa stood. “Trey! So glad to see you! What need you?”

He motioned her toward a more private corner of the room. Tessa eyed him curiously. “What is it, Trey?”

Trey gathered his thoughts. “Mother, does Hanna receive a wage?”

Tessa was surprised by this question. It was not what she expected.

“A wage? I know not. I have not paid her. Have you?”

“No. I thought she would have some pay, I guess. It never occurred to me how that might happen.”

Tessa was silent, watching Trey.

“I told her to purchase fabric. For a gown. I thought not that she would have no money for it. Why would she not tell me?”

Tessa put her hands on her hips and gave him a motherly look. Trey knew that face. “I know, I know.” He looked at his mother. “What can we do?”

Tessa smiled. “You give her some money, obviously.”

“I?”

“Yes, you.”

“Oh. How much?”

Tessa leaned back thoughtfully. “Well, a gown, you say… And she’s served us for three months.” Tessa eyed her son. “And she had her face smashed.”

Trey smirked, and looked away uncomfortably.

“Six crown would buy sufficient fabric. Eight would be finer. For her service, you decide.”

“And I should do this? Are you sure?”

Tessa cocked her head knowingly at him. “T’would mean more from you, aye.”

Trey frowned and nodded. “Aye. Thank you, Mother.” He bowed and left. Tessa smiled. Something was stirring in him, she could tell. It made her happy.

Telling myself stories – or – Is it just me?

This is a revelation and maybe I’m sharing too much. I’ve been this way as long as I can remember, and really thought not much of it, but over the weekend I realized just how important this little ‘quirk’ of mine is.

I’ve always told myself stories as I go to sleep. I always have. Only recently have I actually started writing these stories down, and – by golly – other people seem to like them too! I suppose it’s not so unusual for a person to tell themselves stories as they lay down, or maybe it is, I don’t know. Maybe you can tell me.

I have story lines in my head that started back in high school. Characters that are old friends, having relationships, getting in trouble, and overcoming obstacles, all while I’ll lying in bed trying to wind down for the day. Some of them have complex histories. Some are fairly simple. There’s almost always a love story in there somewhere. And my stories almost always are driven by people being removed from their comfortable surroundings and stuck somewhere else, and having to deal with that. There have been suicides in my stories. And rescues. The occasional murder. Lots of fighting and struggling.

I visit these stories every night, sometimes jumping from tale to tale, character to character, three times in one minute. New stories arise when I’m inspired by a book or a movie. I usually run with those for a long time. Prince of Herongarde arose when I first saw the movie Ironclad.

Does this seem familiar to any of you? Am I the only one?

It gets stranger, alas. Some nights I focus on a single scene, running through it several times until I’m satisfied with it. Maybe later I’ll write it down. Or not. I’ll hash out a different version of the scene the next night. That one will be better.

But I don’t just think them through. I’ll pantomime them. I’ll act them out. I’ll whisper the dialogue and stand by the bed in the dark imagining what it would be like to see an army approaching the castle walls upon which I stand.

Is that strange? Am I the only one?

I can’t do this when others are around, even my most trusted friends. Not even my husband. I just can’t. It’s so private to me. (So why am I telling you this?)

But if I don’t tell stories to myself, complete with pantomime, I start to miss it. It’s like being cut off from friends. My imagination needs a place to roam. Sometimes I’ll be up until 2am letting it frolic in the fields of a foreign planet. If I can’t do that, I get frustrated and depressed.

I was doing this when I was four years old. I do it now at 40. I suspect I will continue until I die.

Is it just me?

Please Allow Me to Re-Introduce Myself

Today (January 28, 2013) is the Re-Introduce Myself Blogfest. The concept is to introduce yourself (or re-introduce yourself, if you’ve been around for a while) to the rest of the blogging community.

So here’s me:

Vertebrate Paleontologist (I study mostly fossil mammals)
Isotope geochemist (looking at climate change in the rock record)
Laboratory manager (and student wrangler)
Mother (to boy on the autism spectrum)
Wife (to a mechanical engineer)
Writer (fiction and non-fiction, nothing published yet, but getting there)
Swordsman-in-training (am captivated by the longsword and am studying the historical European martial arts)
Seamstress (making medieval and renaissance period clothes, plus costumes at Halloween)
Gardener (when time permits)
Chicken wrangler (because our flock comes up a lot)

If you look at my blog or follow me on Twitter, you’ll see posts about all of these things. It keeps me busy and sometimes frantic. But I like it. I like to think that my life is interesting. I like that I have stories to tell, some fiction, some real-life adventures. Hang out for a while. You’ll see.

For 01-28-13

Prince of Herongarde – Departure

Trey stood atop the wall of the gatehouse as the last of the King’s army passed out of sight. Tessa stood beside him, gripping his arm. She was deeply concerned about the safety of her husband, as well as Trey’s health. Trey was leaning heavily against the stone wall, unwilling to bear any weight on his injured leg. He was exhausted, and would need to rest.

Other members of the court stood nearby, peering at the departing army through the wall’s crenulations. Several of the Ladies of the court wept and consoled each other.

Jason stood close to Trey and Tessa, having taken it upon himself to be their vigilant protector. Despite all, Jason still adored Trey, and would gladly give his life for him. It bothered Jason that no other Mark-bearer remained behind to defend Trey. His Majesty had requested that Jason remain close to Trey and serve him well. Jason felt ill-prepared to defend Trey in the event of an attack, but he would do his best.

Apart from the crowd stood Hanna, observing Trey. The men of the army didn’t mean much to her, but she knew that her life depended upon the health and safety of Lord Trey. She hoped that he would take some desperately needed rest, now that the army was gone.

When the dust vanished from the horizon and it was clear that they were on their own, Trey turned to the courtiers that stood around. He stood tall, and for a moment looked as if he suffered no pain from his injury. “Then it is done,” he bellowed. “Return you to your work. We must ensure that there is a Herongarde for our King and men to return to when the battle is victorious, aye?”

The people slowly dispersed. Many approached Trey to pay their regards, which he returned courteously. Finally, all who remained were Trey, Tessa, Jason, and Hanna. Trey turned back to gaze down the road that the army had just passed. He leaned on the wall, hung his head and slumped. The pain in his leg had finally overwhelmed him.

Jason stepped forward quickly to help Trey. Trey straightened up again, with Jason’s help and the encouragement of Tessa. Hanna approached cautiously. Trey regarded her wearily.

“I shall take some rest,” he muttered.

Hanna nodded. Tessa smiled, glad that Trey was willing to rest.

Leaning heavily upon Jason, Trey walked slowly back to his chamber. Tessa stoked the fire as Hanna set about changing the bandages on Trey’s injuries. Jason assisted where he could, helping Trey out of his heavy formal clothes so that Trey could lie down and sleep.

As Hanna cleaned Trey’s wound, she realized he was already asleep. She paused for a moment and looked at him sadly. There was a lot of pressure on this man. She wondered what he would be like when there was not a war brewing. Tessa walked up beside Hanna and sighed. She, too, had noticed that Trey was asleep, despite the fact that his bandages were not yet changed. She worried for her son.

Jason looked around awkwardly. “If there is nothing further, your Highness,” he said to Tessa.

“Thank you, Jason,” replied Tessa. “I will call for you if you are needed.”

Jason bowed and left the room.

Hanna finished bandaging Trey’s leg while Tessa stood by. Carefully, Hanna laid the blankets over Trey’s leg, so as not to disturb his slumber. She was finished. He was asleep. Hanna looked to the Queen.

“Go to your bed, Hanna,” said Tessa. “I will watch him this night. Attend to him in the morning, aye?”

“Yes, your Majesty,” said Hanna with a bow. She walked from the room, still looking at the recumbent form of Trey. He looked so peaceful. It made her happy.

*******************

If you like the bits and pieces of this story that I’ve posted on my blog, and want to read more (like, the whole book), would you please consider being a beta reader? The success of this book is ultimately dependent upon the opinions of others and feedback on drafts is one of the most powerful tools I have to making this book the best it could be! If you’d be willing to read a draft of the whole book and provide feedback (not editorial, but where things work and where things don’t work), please let me know in the comments. I can send you a complete draft in MSword or Kindle (.mobi) format.

#PitMad and Getting That First Novel Published

Twitter is a wonderful thing. I use it to network with other scientists, other authors, and others who are affected in one way or another by autism. I use it to promote my own work, in research or fiction. I also use it in teaching, as a complement to traditional ‘office hours’ and ‘review sessions.’ I enjoy it as an opportunity to ‘hang out’ with the global community.

As an newbie in the world of fiction writing, I find Twitter to be an amazing resource. There are so many helpful and friendly people out there, authors, agents, and publishers. There’s just a wealth of knowledge out there, all in 140-character bursts!

Once in a while – and I’m not sure how these events get planned – there are ‘Pitch Madness’ events on Twitter. Authors can pitch their novels in single tweets with the hashtag #PitMad, and agents with peruse the pitches and request more information about the ones they like. One such event was yesterday. I spent the day pitching my books Prince of Herongarde and The Masters, neither of which are published.

Pitching a novel in one tweet is hard, but somehow I got two requests from agents, both for the book Prince of Herongarde. There were no takers for The Masters (though I wonder if that’s because I haven’t really identified what the main theme of the story is yet.)

For fun (and because it’s pretty-much all I’ve been thinking about for the last 24 hours), I thought I might list here the various pitches I used for each book.

I’ll point out that each pitch included three hashtags, one indicating it was for Pitch Madness (#PitMad), one for the genre of the book (#SF = science fiction, #SpecFic = speculative fiction), and one for the target age group (#A = adult). There are two reasons to do this. 1) It helps agents target stories that they really want to represent and 2) it give you a way to send the ‘same’ tweet more than once. It seems that Twitter won’t let you keep tweeting the same thing over and over again, but if you re-arrange the hashtags, it’s a new tweet. So I could tweet each pitch at least a dozen times. The downside to this, though, is that your pitches have to be that much shorter, maybe 120 characters.

Here are the pitches for Prince of Herongarde. Pitches one and two are the ones that earned requests. Some of the others got re-tweets and comments.

He had no intention of being King, nor of falling in love again. Her foreign and infuriating manners changed his mind. #SpecFic #A #PitMad
It had to be a dream when her car, phone, and husband were replaced with horses, swords, and a knight. It wasn’t. #SpecFic #A #PitMad
When a 21st century, middle-aged woman finds herself in war-torn Medieval Europe, a nation, and its Prince, are saved. #SpecFic #A #PitMad
She’s a 21st century academic. He’s a 14th century Prince. Together they’ll save a medieval nation. #SpecFic #A #PitMad
The Prince, consumed by pain and rage, finds refuge in war. There, he rediscovers himself with a most unlikely woman. #PitMad #SpecFic #A
It was ridiculous. She should be lecturing, not slaughtering with swords. But the Prince must be protected. #PitMad #SpecFic #A
She was a university scientist. He was a medieval Prince. It was an unlikely romance. With swords. #A #SpecFic #PitMad
She traded science for a longsword. He traded bitterness for love. War brought them together, and revived a weary Prince. #SpecFic #A #PitMad
The Prince, consumed by pain and rage, finds refuge in war. There, he rediscovers himself with a most unlikely woman. #PitMad #SpecFic #A

Here are the pitches for The Masters. There were no comments, favorites, or retweets here. This book needs some work, methinks.

Marshall thought the DUI was bad. The Masters were worse. But somehow, he’d escape, and take Katrine with him. #A #SF #PitMad
The Clastad looked pleasant, but meant to enslave men. The Zhaat were hideous but friendly. Marshall just wanted to go home. #A #SF #PitMad
His privileged life as a movie star ended with being dragged to the stars by The Masters. Would he ever get back home? #A #SF #PitMad
The Masters meant to break Marshall’s spirit, but his love for Katrine was more powerful than anything they had. #SF #A #PitMad
When The Masters came, Marshall was stripped of everything. But they couldn’t take his love, and he meant to get her back. #A #SF #PitMad
Marshall’s capture by The Masters put everything in perspective. Only one thing mattered, Katrine. He meant to get her home. #A #SF #PitMad

So that’s the lot of them. Like I said, I got two requests for Prince of Herongarde, but nothing for The Masters. I don’t think I pitched the second book very well. I’ll work on that.

What do you think?