I saw something on the news and I thought it should be shared. They say they may have found a cure for Alzhiemers. They're still testing it, so it's a maybe, but still. According to the study, in just 4 weeks memory has improved enough to count backwards, ad remember 4-5 names. since a very good author has Alzhiemer's, I thought this was an important post. Maybe not... you decide...

October Meeing

I just had a flash of genius today. Remember how I said October could be trouble because early voting was going to monopolize the room we use? I just talked to the Carmel branch and their room is free on the fourth Thursday of October. Would anyone have a problem with meeting at the Carmel branch? If that is too far out of the way I can also check with the Scaleybark Branch. What do you think?

On Writing

A couple of years ago I read a fascinating book called The Annunciation of Francesca Dunn by Janis Hallowell. It's about a teenage girl who believes that the baby she is carrying may be the next coming of Jesus Christ. It's one of those rare modern literary novels that is enjoyable. It explores many different themes yet still tells a good story. She has a new book out called She Was. I am about to go and ask the brains downtown to buy it for the library.

The reason I mention her is that she has a nice essay here on the nature of writing fiction. It's pretty good with some nice insight. Give it a looksee.

EXTRA BELATED POST

I suppose as the official keeper of the pass-around stories, I should take better care with them.
Anyway, I post them in order according to the alphabetical place of the first letter of the first word of each, just to dispel any notion that either Matthew or I is better because our story came first or kept best for last. As it happens, the one I started comes alphabetically first, so here goes:

Jeremy is a time-traveler, zipping through the conduits of space-time to the '05 time traveler convention.
He decides at once that he can't time travel without his Terry Pratchett Super Duper action figures of Disky Awesomeness (tm).
So, to avoid the almost fatalistic (methinks I spy an incorrectly used adjective) catastrophe of the loss of the possession of his dolls (excuse me, rare collectibles), he, not noticing the passing hours, leaves to go home
and watch the Simpsons instead. "Ahhhh...", he thinks as he lies back on his couch and plants a big luscious kiss on the faces of every last one of his 'rare collectibles'. "If I didn't have my dolls, I bet
my life would be so empty." After all, what is a decent time traveler without their oh-so-perfect do-- ahem, rare collectibles, socks, television, cocoa puffs,
and pie. "My wonderful pie making skills are what led me to you," he said to one of his dolls as he went over to the oven to
get his pie, but as he reached down a piece of hot sizzling peach preserves into his eye. (Lauren, I know that one was you. What did I ever do to deserve this betrayal?)
His super eyes retained no damage and absorbed the nutrients. (Woo! Go whoever that was! Think it was Clare. If so, I see we're channeling some Dr. McNinja.)
"Crap," thought all of his rare collectibles.
With the nutrients, he might be moving on from his rare collectibles...
and get into Raggedy- Ann instead.

#2:

The french toast flopped onto the grill with a "phhpt-skssss." (Guys, check out Matthew's profile and marvel at his lack of creativity. )
The grease spattered up and hit the cook in his eye. He screamed "My eye!!" (Ed is a very straightforward kind of person.)
He ran, half-blind, searching for the first-aid kit.
While the pots thought of (how) snobby the living room furniture are (is.)
His grasping hands found the kit, only for his non-greased eye to register that it was empty.
Empty, that is, except for a ferret
who told him he hated french toast.
But ferrets don't talk, he thought to himself in dramatic soap opera fashion then said aloud "gotta stop drinking the terpintine (turpentine?) after work." (I still wanna know who wrote that part.)
The ferret then stared at him thoughtfully. "I do know how to fix your eye," it said. But the man only shrugged and said to himself "ferrets can't talk."
But the ferret could talk in a slow, weird voice.
A voice echoing the painful tone of Carol Channing,
who at the moment, was disgruntled that her name was Carol Channing, and not something more awesome, like ED or MICHAEL JACKSON or BRITNEY SPEARZ. (?)
That's when the cook finally keeled over dead when the grease reached his brain.
The ferret showed a toothy grin-- since ferrets can OBVIOUSLY smile in this way-- and rifled through the man's pockets and stole his wallet.

Well. And that's that. Maybe one day we'll be metaphorically as well as physically on the same page and be able to churn out a coherent narrative. I say next meeting we do them in first-person POV!

The chorus to a mashed up remix thingy (Burnin Up by the Jonas Brothers) total mash up by me and 2 of my friends. We call ourselves HMH

Here it is:

I'm slippin into the llama
And I'm tryin to keep from stealing a panda
Baby, You make the black sheep hotter
I'm burnin up, Burnin up for you
__________________________
sing your name

--Hannah

A Massive Gathering of Writers

IMG_2073
Originally uploaded by zzazazz

Not often do so many cool people gather in one place.

Meeting Tomorrow

Don't forget we are meeting tomorrow at the Morrison regional Library. Be there or be absent. Remember to bring something to read, it doesn't even have to be your own writing. I am going to bring a cereal box and read the back of it to you.

Free SF Short Story

It's by John Scalzi. It's set in his Old Man's War universe. You can read it here. Sorry about the missing link. It now be fixed.

Earth from Space

Wanna see a video of Earth from space?

Live Blogging

I was just thinking that at our next meeting I should live blog. That way all of our fans can monitor our progress from anywhere on the planet. Even Antarctica or Romania or right next door.

HEY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

This might be an entirely pointless post, but just to let you know: if you are ages 12-18, get down to Imaginon and submit something to their new literary magazine. (At the Loft.) Anything works, so long's the profanity isn't too bad and you keep the subject matter under control. Fiction, nonfiction, articles, everything goes. Patrice the librarian will love you forever, and me too for successfully getting people to submit stuff.

Keys

Have you ever noticed that when you leave your keys in another room and someone else picks them up you can tell just by the distinct jingle the keys make that it is your keys that are being handled?