Training is being very interesting and very good. Tomorrow we get to do lots of practical work. Excellent.

Here is a brilliant essay about sexism in culture and literature, using the extended metaphor of llamas.

From time to time, I mention that I am different from most people, that my mind doesn't work the same way.  And one of the more dramatic examples goes like this.

*movie with cannibalistic scaly llamas*

Me: "This is stupid.  Llamas are fluffy."

Normal person: "No they aren't."

Me: "There is a fluffy llama.  Look, llamas are fluffy."

Normal person: "WTF?  Everyone knows llamas aren't fluffy!"

Me: "Also they hum."

Normal person: "How would you EVEN KNOW THAT?"

Me: "By knowing some damn llamas!"

Normal person: "ZOMGWTFBBQ!  Shut up now!"

Me: *write fluffy llamas*

I'm social teflon.  Everyone saying something that is observably false does not convince me that they are right.  It convinces me that everyone else is crazy.  And of course, they think I'm the crazy one, because when there's a disagreement of claims, I go looking for evidence and I favor factual examples over people's beliefs.  This is really, really unpopular.  It drives many people bugfuck.  

On the other hoof, it's great for crowdfunding.  You want some fluffy llamas?  Bring 'em.  I'll write something.  I'm really good at filling cultural gaps that way.  I enjoy it.  I actively look for this stuff, because it leads to stories that haven't been told a million times.  Fresh stories are often better stories; they hook readers more and harder.  I like that a lot.  I like it as a reader, a writer, a reviewer, an editor, a prompter, a donor ... everything.  I just like it.

And yes, real llamas do hum.  I learned this at the county fair one year when somebody brought llamas.  Because I am a writer and everything is research it never really shuts off.  I am a fountain of random weird trivia like that, and that's where I get the cool concrete details that I drop into my writing.

Tags: activism, gender studies, how to, networking, reading, writing
Current Mood: busy

My friend Marina Bonomi tipped me to this steamfunk movie project, "Rite of Passage."  They had my attention at Harriet Tubman + John Henry + steam fiction.

Steampunk: it's not just for white blokes anymore.  I am so thrilled to see someone else working that angle.

Tags: cyberfunded creativity, entertainment, ethnic studies, networking
Current Mood: busy

My story "The Museum of Mortality" (Part 1 and Part 2) has been sponsored by Amelia Margetts. It is now visible to the public.
Brelig works in a museum while recovering from a sea monster fight.
Brelig works hard to regain his stamina for warsailor work.

This is a sequel to "Without Fail" so if you haven't already read that, I recommend starting there.
Warsailor Brelig meets License Master Alaaffi on a cruise ship.

Tags: cyberfunded creativity, fantasy, fiction, reading, science fiction, torn world, weblit, writing
Current Mood: busy

I had a need for a new, different printer. Ink jet printers produce beautiful images, but they're delicate and run and smear when wet. Worse, if I only use the printer occasionally, the nozzles clog and I use a lot of expensive ink getting them working again. If I want to print gold or silver foil, I use my ancient Alps MD-5000, which isn't supported by modern computers.

So I elected to buy a Canon Selphy ES-30 which is a compact dye sublimation photo printer that can also print gold and silver foil. It was listed as having Macintosh support, which is good because I don't do windows. It's a cute little thing, and takes its printing supplies as little cartridges that contain both the paper and the dye sub ink sheets. This makes it easy to switch between different media, and ensures that the ink and paper stay in synch and are compatible. They're specialized enough that they'll only ever be available from Canon, and they're not particularly cheap. But that's fine, it's cost effective for my occasional use.

But then it turns out that the Macintosh support is only partial - you can print color or black and white, but no gold or silver foil. It is my opinion that if you claim to "support" a computer for a product, that you support all the product's capabilities. Otherwise, it's partial support at best, and this should be stated clearly in all sales literature. Otherwise, you are lying to me, and I do not appreciate being lied to.

I waited a while to see if there would be an update that would add foil support, but none was forthcoming. Then I wrote Canon and asked if they would send me the protocol, so I could implement this myself.

They refused, saying the information was proprietary. What? Why? You're not selling printer drivers, you're selling printers, or more to the point, you're selling printer supplies. The more people who can use your printers, the more printers and supplies you will sell. Keeping the protocol a secret is nonsense. I offered to sign an NDA, but no reply at all. I realize that companies avoid giving out technical information because it might lead to more support questions. I explained that I would not ask for further support, nor use the information in a way that would cause this to happen.

Do you know what would have happened, if you had furnished the interface specification? I would have extended the existing Gutenprint Canon Selphy support to include the ES-30, including its metal foil printing capabilities. I would have provided my changes back to the Gutenprint project for inclusion in their core software. This would have given Canon ES-30 support to Linux and BSD users, and since Apple uses Gutenprint to provide their third-party printer drivers, you would have gotten Macintosh support for free. Better yet, customer support for this driver would have come from the Gutenprint project and Apple — saving you support money. I would have written a positive review of the printer, and all my adoring readers would have gone out and bought them. The underserved Macintosh, Linux, and BSD communities would have bought the now-supported printer, and supplies for it. As the cartridges are not easy to replicate (unlike refilling inkjet cartridges), you would have had a solid revenue stream for years to come, that no one could take away from you. You would have enjoyed a positive mindshare in a large, geeky customer base - and their friends, families, and employers.

But no. You decided to take the low road, keep things secret for no reason, and now you're stuck with unpreferred vendor status. I'll buy my cameræ from Nikon, Fuji, and Olympus. I'll buy my printers from Epson and HP. And I'll tell all my friends how you refused to play nice.

Your pointless corporate decision will end up costing you a surprising amount of lost revenue over the years. Originally posted at Dreamwidth.org comments

Tags: computer, corporate
Current Location: Purcellville, VA
Current Mood: bitchy
Current Music: Sunbaked Savannah, Namco

“Cammy is the perfect woman,” says Dennis Hof, owner of the Moonlite Bunny Ranch.  “Cammy has a value system that comes from the fifties.  We were on an airplane, and a pilot – a lady pilot – introduced herself to me.  When she went back into the cockpit, Cammy said, ‘I’d rather she be serving Cokes and peanuts, and let a man be the pilot.’

“She designed her life around, ‘How can I please a man?’ She went to massage school, cooking school – she bought a book on blowjobs. I wish more girls would do that. If more girls did what Cammy’s doing… my business would go down.”

And good Lord, I am filled to brimming with revulsion.

The thing is, I’m not revulsed by Cammy’s choice.  If Cammy is content living subserviently, and that makes her happy, then I say “Go, Cammy.”  (Even if I suspect Cammy is perpetuating an elaborate ruse to extract cash from gullible men’s pockets.  They say the best salesman never appears to be a salesman.  Cammy’s probably getting exactly what she wants, from men who probably deserve it.)

But I’d never want a woman whose whole job was dedicated to pleasing me.  That has nothing to do with feminism; it has everything to do with the fact that ultimately, I think humans turn into monsters when they have all of their needs met without cost.

Maybe that’s because I worked in retail – where if you’re smart, the attitude has to be, “The customer is always right.”  Because you don’t want the customer to feel dumb; nothing closes a customer’s wallet quicker than, “Gee, your concerns are stupid.”  And they’ll tell people how they were insulted, spreading bad tales about you wherever they go.

So when they cram your mouth full of shit, you swallow it and smile.

Working retail, eventually you come to realize that “reasonable” is determined by past history.  You think it’s reasonable that a cup of good coffee is $3.95 because you grew up in a Starbucks culture… but talk to a guy who grew up in the 1950s, when coffee was an inflation-adjusted dollar at best.  You think it’s reasonable that drivers will give you the finger and honk at you in traffic, because you grew up in Manhattan.  You think it’s reasonable that people smoke in restaurants, because you live in Europe.

The important point: that “reasonable” creeps up, depending on what people do.

As humans, we’re bounded by other people’s reactions.  And if everyone acts like you’re completely normal and wonderful, you internalize that.. even if you’re completely awful.  On some level, we all think, “Well, if we get out of hand, someone will tell me I’m too much trouble.”

Remove those blocks – and sure enough, you start becoming too much trouble.

Wanna know why celebrities implode?  Because they’re swaddled in a culture that caters to their every whim because they’re a non-replaceable entity, and when normal people see them it’s usually in a gawking fawningness of “Oh my God, it’s you!  I’m so pleased to meet you!”  So their waiters go to extra miles that no normal person would get, and when they casually ask for a Diet Coke at precisely 45 degrees with a titanium straw in it, everyone just brings it to them.  Nobody notes this is actually really a pain in the ass to do for them, or if they do, they agree that oh, you absolutely need a perfectly-chilled drink.

Eventually, you come to think that this is reality.  That the 45-degree Diet Coke with the titanium straw is not just you, but universal and easy to do, it’s happened a thousand times before.  And then a waiter forgets and you get the wrong drink – and for the celebrity, it’s like they got brought a cup of transparent coffee with broken glass at the bottom.  It’s such a stupidly-done thing that it feels like an insult.  How could they not know?

So: embarrassing shitfit in a public place.  And to some extent, it’s not the celebrity’s fault – it’s the fault of all these people around them, nodding and agreeing and convincing them that yes, this is the way the world is.  Sure, the celebrity went off the fucking rails, but all of their PR agents and fans and entourage quietly removed the rails months ago.  In some ways, it’s astounding that they kept on the right path for as long as they did.

And you see that in retail, where people think, “Oh, I’m always right!  So I’ll sit in the coffee shop and slop coffee all over this magazine I have no intention of paying for, then leave it sprawled on the counter in a pile of sugar and drool.”  They think, “I’m always right, so when I bring back a tattered book with no receipt and want cash for it, the clerk who’s refusing me needs a good, solid yelling.”  They think, “I’m always right, so why aren’t these clerks catering to my every whim?”

And yes: you get more money from these nitwits.  But you do so by catering to their dysfunction.  Which means you get richer off of exploiting people’s psychological weak points.  (A point I make, in a somewhat more hammer-handed way, in my story Dead Merchandise.)  You actually make them a little insane – and some of them a lot insane – to harvest their cash.

So for me, having someone eager to cater to my every need makes them, in a low-grade way, the enemy of my sanity.  I want people who question, who remind me of the work this took, who tell me when I’m inconveniencing them.  A woman like Cammy (or at least how Cammy presents herself) would undermine the integrity of the person I’m trying to be, give me an inflated sense of self-esteem I might not deserve, slowly push me towards the land o’crazy expectations.

She’s not the perfect woman, Denis.  She’s a perfect servant, perhaps.  But perfect servants come with hidden costs, and I for one would be very reticent to pay them.

 

Cross-posted from Ferrett's Real Blog.

This entry has also been posted at http://theferrett.dreamwidth.org/303879.html. You can comment here, or comment there; makes no never-mind by me.

Long-time readers will know: May is the time my Seasonal Affective Disorder usually creeps in.  For a few weeks out of the year I’ll become a sniffling pile of self-hatred, sometimes skidding as far as self-harm, weeping and curling into a ball.  This misery lasts for about three to six weeks, during which in lesser moments all of my suicide attempts have arrived, and when I emerge it’s a slow crawl.

This is where the sadness usually starts to tickle.  And… it hasn’t yet.  Which concerns me.

The thing is, if there’s any year when I might not have my usual SAD, this would be it.  I’ve had major surgery in January, which my body is still recuperating from in some minor ways.  I’ve changed my diet and exercise habits.  And I’m on new medications, specifically a heavy dosage of Vitamin D in order to get my cholesterol and body chemistry back to proper levels.

So is it going to arrive?  Maybe.  I felt very sad on Saturday but then I ate a sandwich and realized my blood sugar was low, and everything went better.  I’m feeling a little low now, but is that SAD or just a reluctance to charge ahead with a tedious work day?

No clue.  Until then, I’m sort of waiting for the axe to fall – maybe it’ll show up late.  (It used to arrive in June.)  I’m on alert, trying to be careful about how I react, so I don’t take anything too much to heart.

But once a year, I usually have to endure a time of knives and anguish.  That may or may not show up this year.  In some ways, waiting for it to hit is nearly as bad as the depression itself, being tensed for a blow that may never arrive.  On the other hand, I’m relatively content, and finishing up my novel.

A strange place to be.

 

Cross-posted from Ferrett's Real Blog.

This entry has also been posted at http://theferrett.dreamwidth.org/303809.html. You can comment here, or comment there; makes no never-mind by me.

 Flowers.

Tags: nature, networking, photography
Current Mood: busy

Test pilot Benjamin J. Grimm, trying out a new flight simulator, is surprised to find the interior bathed with brilliant green light. When he opens the hatch, he realizes he's being carried across the desert toward a crashed spacecraft, whose dying pilot gives him a green ring, inducting him into an interstellar police force, as a totally fearless and honest bearer.

Science student Peter Parker, working after hours in the high school chem lab, is sprayed with chemicals when a lightning bolt strikes through the window. Shaken, he realizes that the unexpected baptism has enhanced his reflexes and his movements far beyond human limits. His first thought is to earn money by doing highly visible stunts, but after his uncle is killed he resolves to turn to defending people without his powers.

Shortly after opening his law practice, blind attorney Matt Murdock is walking with his father away from a boxing match when two gunmen shoot his father down. One of them says dismissively, "Him? Blind as a bat; he can't identify us." This inspires him to take on a second identity to avenge his father's death, as "Bat-Man," taking advantage of his athletic training and his superhumanly keen senses, the result of the same accident that cost him his sight.

Ororo Munroe, left orphaned in the streets of Cairo by an earthquake that kills her parents, feels an unaccountable emotional pull toward the deserts of North Africa. After a perilous journey, she finds her way to a lost city of amazons, refugees from the fall of the ancient world. They adopt her and train her in the arts of war and peace, but eventually, as a young woman, she wants to rediscover her parents' world. This brings her to America, caught up in struggles over women's rights and black rights. She assumes the identity of "Wonder Woman" to lend her warrior arts to the struggle.

Kl'rt, the greatest warrior of the shapeshifting Skrulls, is sent to Earth to observe its people and plan an invasion. His secret is uncovered by a keenly observant detective, Lieutenant John Jones, who confronts him. An unexpected turn of events leaves Jones dead and Kl'rt owing him a debt. To preserve his own honor, Kl'rt assumes Jones's identity and uses his powers secretly as a crimefighter.

Friday, the fine folks at JournalStone will release my novel VAPORWARE. It has been described as a "video game ghost story", a sort of Fatal Attraction for the digital age where being "married to the job" means something a little different and a lot more dangerous. You can find it at the JournalStone site, or at amazon, or any number of other fine purveyors of reading material.

So why write a book about making video games? It's not just a case of "write what you know". I know a lot of things, entirely too many of them relating to who's playing shortstop for various minor league baseball teams. It's a question of "write the stories that you can tell because you know them well."
And I know making video games well. I've been doing it for fourteen years, working on big games and small ones, smooth projects and rocky ones, best-selling titles that won Game of the Year awards and projects that got canceled and dropped by the wayside. I've got stories, and I've heard stories - from friends, from professional peers, from long-term industry veterans and people who left the industry after one product cycle. And I've heard the stories people outside the industry try to tell - yet another "video game monster escapes!" or "get zapped into a video game and fight monsters!" story that leaves behind the most interesting thing about video games.
No, not interactivity. That's the most interesting thing about the games themselves. But the really interesting thing about games is the people who make them, and what they do to make something go from notes on a whiteboard to fully realized experience. It is not, contrary to the commercials you might see, as simple as "tightening up the graphics on level three". It's long work and it's hard work and it asks as much of you as you are willing to give it. Sometimes that's a late night. Sometimes that's a weekend. Sometimes that's 80 hours a week for months on end. And why we do it, and why we keep on doing it - that's the interesting thing, and sometimes it's the scary thing.
At least to me.
And that's a little of why I wrote VAPORWARE.

Tags: fiction, vaporware, video games, write what you know