Guy at work was telling me about a pony he’d had when he was a kid. “You had to do the weirdest thing to make him go,” he said. “If you kicked him, he’d trot, but that was about it. To get him to go any faster, you’d have to wave a pine bough–you know, […]
Pick up a can of “Anything” or “Whatever” and get a random taste sensation… WARNING: This cola might, like Jelly Belly, pick up some kind of Harry Potter sponsorship, and then you’d be drinking grass…spackle…overcooked pork chops… (via Growabrain.)
My mother deserved better, but then I always had been an inferior child. I’d left her ashes in their dark urn–in a garage, extruding only the smallest amounts at Christmas, her birthday (ironically, on Valentine’s Day), and Mother’s Day, wearing the sigil of her love of my forehead like the mark of a curse, or
Proctodontologist: an MD who treats people with their heads stuck up their butts. (Heard at work.)
What makes the setting of a story worth revisiting? What makes the world of a story — even a non-genre world that is supposedly the same as our own — worth revisiting? Any book which has a sequel must have a world worth revisiting. What makes a story worth revisiting, from a writer’s point of
The world’s best rememberance: My wife’s grandfather died last week. He was 96 years old and had not shaved his beard in 30 years. Lately he’d taken to carrying business cards with his name and title printed on the front: Stephen Edward Eastman, W.O.M. “W.O.M.?” I asked him. “Weird Old Man,” he explained.
I was talking to Ray on the way home the other day, and for some reason we got onto the topic of vampires. She decided there are three basic vampire food groups, as follows: Tomatoes Blood Fruit (red).
But Hugin, being the raven he is, just can’t leave it alone. Eventually, Munin gives in and brings him to the fields of the fallen. Out back behind Yggdrasil* is this place you’ll never find unless you’re looking for it, because it’s hidden. It’s a battlefield. And it looks just like any other abandoned battlefield
