Words    Words    Words

I”ve just written a scene for my current project in which my viewpoint character goes on a rant about being at peace with one’s self, expressing disdain for the concept.  I finished it, looked at it, and said, “Wait.  I’ve written this already.” Was that my imagination, or did I actually write that scene?  If so, where?  I should look it over to see if this one is different enough, or if I should just scrag it.  If someone more familiar with my work than I am can tell me, I’d appreciate it. Thanks.

I need some information about Pittsburgh, particular around 1968-1973.   Were any of you there?  Do you know anyone who was?  Any help appreciated.  Thanks.

I am almost out of coffee, and yet, I have pounds remaining. What could this mean?

I’ve lost the little tub that I had marked for 1 lbs of green coffee. I haven’t yet unpacked enough to find my scale. My attempts to learn the answer on the internet have failed, so I turn to you:

How much green coffee, measured in cups, is close to one pound? Anyone? I’m down to the end of what I have roasted. Tomorrow will be an ugly day without your help.

This is a reminder, for those who might be interested, that Fourth Street Fantasy Convention is coming.  For those who don’t know, we’re a small, literary convention, with single-track programming (with lunch breaks built in).  It started many years ago when I wanted a way to bring together smart people I admired and listen to them argue about writing issues I wanted to work on.  We stopped for many years, then a few years ago Lydia Nickerson brought it all back.

This year, some of the people who will be there are: Elizabeth Bear, Emma Bull, Will Shetterly, Lois McMaster Bujold, Skyler White, Patrica C. Wrede,  and, uh, a bunch of people I can’t think of right now but who I’d travel to a convention just to see.

Anyway, if you’re interested, here’s the info: http://www.4thstreetfantasy.com/2011/

Registration rates go up at the end of the month.

Some time ago, my grandson Miklos (age 3) decided on the generic term “mean guy” to describe any and all villains, evil-doers (especially the ones in Spider-man), and not-nice people.  Hence Jeff “Peffa” Bertilson and my daughter Toni and I (egged on my TJ)  thought the following had to be done.

I think I’m so civilized cause I’m living my life saying hello and good-bye

But all around me people make me so mad I could be spitting in their eye

So I’m no better than the bad criminals who hit, cheat, and burglarize

‘Cos compared to all of those neat super-heroes I am a mean-guy.

I always say please and thank you and you’re welcome, ‘cos I am very polite

But overdraft fees and automatic phone help makes me ready to fight

I don’t want to listen to idiots blab

I don’t want drink until I’m in rehab

I just want go into my secret lab and make like a mean guy.

I’m a mean guy I’m a mean mean guy

Oh, I’m a mean guy.

I’m a Green Goblin guy I’m a Venom guy, oh I’m a mean guy.

Cos compared to Spidey so strong and so brave

Compared to Batman in his bat cave

Compared to a boy who knows how to behave

I am a mean guy.

In man’s evolution he has created boundaries between every nation

Which is nothing but asking for guys like to me to go for world domination

Cos I’m happier than I might seem

When I’m with my hand-picked team

Making an invisible destructor beam

Cause I am a mean guy.

I’m a mean guy I’m a mean mean guy

Oh, I’m a mean guy.

I’m a Marvel guy I’m a D.C. guy, oh I’m a mean guy.

I watch the world through my periscope

Hatching schemes that will work I hope

Maybe next week I’ll kidnap the Pope.

I am a mean guy.

Come on and join me, by my mean guy pal.

We’ll share the world, you can have Lonsdale.

I’m a mean guy I’m a mean mean guy

Oh, I’m a mean guy.

I’m a Green Goblin guy I’m a Venom guy, oh I’m a mean guy.

I’ll be your Joker you’ll be Harley Quinn

I’ll make you rich and you’ll make me win

If our plans our foiled we’ll just try again

I am a mean guy.

I’m a mean guy I’m a mean mean guy

Oh, I’m a mean guy.

I’m a Doc Oc guy I’m a Burglar guy, oh I’m a mean guy.

I want to own everything I see.

I’m Ayn Rand’s child by Bill Nietzsche

Until the superheroes catch up with me.

I’ll be a mean guy.

I”ll be a mean guy.

I’ll be a mean guy.

Here is where I’ll gleefully read posts from those who liked it and merrily skip posts from those who didn’t.

A place to talk about it, if you want.

My daughter Toni and Joel Rosenburg conspired to kidnap me in Texas and take me back to Minnesota. Joel’s wife Felicia and daughter Judy, as well as Toni, did amazing amounts of work loading the truck. Judy organized things as well. Toni drove the truck (towing my car). She drove every mile; I never touched the wheel. Felicia drove the van. Twice I tried to take shifts driving the van, and both times, after maybe an hour, I just fell apart, and Felicia took over again.

I’m here now, missing all the wonderful Texas people (not to mention the weather), but with my family. I plan to fall apart completely, but not until the truck is unloaded.

Thank you Toni, Judy, Felicia, and Joel.

Sorry to ignore this blog for so long. It’ll probably continue. I’m in the process of moving back to Minnesota. Bear with me.