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The “It’s All Greek to Scooby-Doo” episode is unique. Velma announces the centaur is none other than Sir Portsmouth, then unmasks the villain–who turns out to be someone else. Velma: What? Who is this? Archaeologist: That’s my assistant! Velma: But I’ve never even met her!

Don’t have to rich to be my girlDon’t have to cool to rule my World! (of Warcraft)

An Estonian minimalist composer. I first listened to Te Deum, in 1993, a year after I’d started college, while I was dating a boy I shouldn’t have. He wanted to buy me things, so I had him buy me that album; I bought him a copy, too. One of those cases where somethingyou picked up

For everyone who said, “You know who should watch Shaun of the Dead? De,” well, I did. Hee!

Okay, maybe my problem with doing revisions is that I’ve been writing the wrong things. I’ve been working on Alien Blue, and it’s been…fun. Hey there, missy. I mean, miss. I’m Bill Trout, proprietor of the Caveman Brewery. What can I get you? Here’s what you should say: “Bill, I got a hankerin’ for something

Maybe this is an old idea, but it’s a new idea for me. The point of the philosopher’s stone was to purify baser metals and turn them to gold, that is, the “parts” of the metals that were impure would be removed: Matter transmutation, the old goal of alchemy, enjoyed a moment in the sun

Wow. I haven’t posted for a while… I had to put Iron Road on hiatus. One, I’m stuck, or at least processing in the background, because an entirely new element came up. I was having trouble building the other world — as much as I love “other worlds” in my stories, they’re such a bitch

I went to the Colorado Springs Fine Art Center yesterday to see the “Impressionist and Modern Masters” exhibit. It’s the first time I’ve been back since they remodeled. Wow. It’s big. Wow. I forgot you have to be careful not to lock your knees when you’re in a museum. I was there for about three

A pot de creme = homemade chocolate pudding. It’s creme brulee, with chocolate, without burnt sugar. It’s richer and more grown-up (but, conversely, less comforting) than regular, cooked chocolate puddings. I used this recipe on New Year’s Day.* Although it only coughs up eight tiny, miniscule, itsy-bitsy, possibly even fussy (because you really should use

by Betty Fussell. Betty Fussell will never be an M.F.K. Fisher. Nevertheless, I picked up her book today and didn’t put it down until I’d finished it. (In case you don’t know Mary Frances, let me just say My Kitchen Wars is a memoir about Betty’s life, as seen through her experiences with food. She