( New dress )

I sort of wish I hadn't opted to try a new dress design for making up this fabric, since the high-waisted fit makes me look a bit dumpy. On the other hand, super-comfy!

For a Jim-less weekend, it was a pretty good one. I finished the latest draft for BEARERS and did most of my location scouting for FAMILIAR TRICKS, which is set in Toronto. There is a surprising lack of abandoned warehouses in the Queen/River area these days, thanks to all the condo development going on.

On Saturday evening, my superintendent stopped by to check out my plumbing, as my tub's been draining slowly of late.

Twenty minutes later, my toilet had backed up into the bathtub.

Fortunately, my superintendents rock. Gary stayed up until 11 pm Saturday cobbling my plumbing back into decent enough shape that I didn't have a tub full of sewage, and they've given me access to an empty unit in the building until a proper plumber can sort out the mess. Fun!

Also: I made this on Saturday morning. Isn't it pretty?



(flat yardage)

One of my favorite blogs lately is PZ Myer's Pharyngula, not only for the posts themselves, but also for the oft-delightful comment threads.

Today's comment gem:

Buzz off, you lying piece of shredded doormat. Benighted codswallop! Go to Texas. If you can't figure out why I'm angry with you, buzz off seven times seven times more. Abrade your jaded corneae with a cheap plastic crucifix. Ratdong. Cellpore. Nanophalic drone.Go away, nihilist. You're a poison on this earth, a cancer, a cold, writhing, hungry parasite on the heart of humanity.

How dishonest you are, you bevenomed, motley-minded ratsbane.
Begone, slithering snake. Simpering crookpate. Malodorous gasbox. Doghearted horn-beast. Gangrenous carbuncle. Virulent pustule. Puking, fat-kidneyed flap-dragon. Witch-burning pigsherd. Rump-fed clotpole.

Go pray now, lambchop. Leave us, and go whisper sweet nothings under the sheets to your murderous little fever-dream.

What we're dealing with at work today: bisphenol A.

Four weeks into a 12 week contract and I still don't have the software I need to do my core job. Fun!

As a few of you have noticed already, I've been making some changes to my online presence.

My core domain, StacyKing.com, finally has content. Yipee!

The site includes a new blog, mirrored at stacyking for those of you who despise RSS feeds. If you are interested in my writing process and occasional pop culture quips, this is the LJ to follow.

charmingmonstrs will remain for social planning, fashion communities, and reading the blog posts of real-life friends. I've also trimmed the friends list down considerably; no drama is intended.

Any major developments in my life will be mirrored on both LJs. Feel free to read one, both or neither as suits your interest. I honestly won't take it personally!

Because we can.



Posterchild built a pair of portals, complete with Companion Cube, in downtown Toronto a few days ago almost a month ago, apparently. How could we resist taking some stupid photos?

(Jim's shots are also on Facebook here, and include close-ups of each portal)

The fantabulous girlwithtea snagged us fine seats for last night's mixed short program by the National Ballet. We were both a tad skeptical about "Rooster", set to a bundle of Rolling Stones tunes, but it turned out to be better than expected. H. was quite keen on finally seeing "Soldier's Mass", a lovely piece performed with vocals by members of the Toronto Mendelssohn Choir.

Neither of us counted on the oddity that was "24 Preludes by Chopin": it was witty and clever, but in a slightly snide manner which kept pulling me out of the piece to think, "hrm, that was witty and clever, wasn't it?". The athleticism of the piece was impressive, but also managed to highlight a core reason why I'm not keen on ballet that blends into modern dance: they're two quite different approaches to movement. Ballet's movement is largely upwards, aiming for a lighter-than-air, effortless appearance. Modern tends to be grounded and solid, the dancer's form pulled down by gravity so that their flights, when they happen, are all the more astonishing. Although ballet dancers have the technical skills to accomplish modern movements, there's something missing in the philosophy of their approach which usually rings hollow for me.

In other words, I enjoy modern dance, but I'd rather see it performed by TDT or La La La Human Steps than by the National.

Art Deco Cinderella, the next program this season, looks *awesome*.

And oh geez, next season: Romeo & Juliet, Gisele, and a Twyla Tharp/Balanchine night... yum!

* * *

On the rewrite front: things are moving along nicely, although obviously (as any sane person could have guessed) I won't be done the full rewrite in a week. Ah, optimism! I am hammering through plot problems and have considerably tightened the front section of the book, which is a good thing.

Revenue Canada has confirmed that I can fix the mess by simply filing a new business expense form along with my re-sorted receipts; it's not a huge deal at the current stage of processing. Since I've already got the bloody receipts sorted properly, that shouldn't take too long.

If they come after me for the following years as well, I will definitely follow up with either Harvey or James. Thanks for the recs!

Today I should be writing. Instead, I am sorting through receipts from my 2001 tax return and marveling at how horribly my accountant seems to have mangled the situation.

Seriously, she's got receipts filed in blatantly wrong categories, receipts from the wrong year inserted and no clear paperwork detailing how anything goes together. I'll be lucky if I can sort out this mess in the few full-time days I have remaining (goodbye, writing time!), and even once I get it sorted out, I'm not sure what I'll have to do next. Refile, perhaps? Possibly for all subsequent years as well?

Absolutely overwhelming. I would have been better off doing it all by myself from the very start.

If you know a GOOD accountant, now is the time to tell me, folks.

Tonite: Dance Cave for booty shake-shake, yes?

Daylight Savings Time is rendering me a tad sluggish. I'm still doing everything on my usual schedule, only it's now an hour later.

Next week I need to start using an alarm clock for the first time in almost a year.

New gig is confirmed: web communications adviser role with Ministry of the Environment (henceforth known as the GreenTeam). It's a three month contract to start, but the odds of extension are strong. The start date is four days shy of one year since the end of my last job, so I’m cutting in just under the wire of “six months to a year” for my writing sabbatical.

I’m feeling a bit ambivalent, even though it’s a good thing. The contract is just long enough to resolve my cash flow concerns, and lets me start making summer travel plans. San Diego Comic Con is on; Calgary Con is sadly out.

Emotionally, I think I’m actually ready to plunge back into office life. I botched a couple of sanity rolls during my last stint at Cancerland and spent the first four months of my sabbatical in a state of shock, trying to reassemble my mental pieces into a freshly coherent state. It helps that I’ll be working with Good People, including a former manager who’s both competent and nice.

I’m satisfied but not ecstatic with what I’ve accomplished over the last year: the current draft for BEARERS is solid, and I have a good handle on what’s needed to finally write FAMILIAR TRICKS. My original schedule was to have a revised draft of FT done by end-April, but that was based on writing full-time.

So, new schedule: I’m doing rewrites on BEARERS next week, with the goal of having an agent-ready version complete by March 14. The new contract starts March 17; I’m going to start sending out query letters to agents that week, and work out a new writing schedule. I’d like to project having a revised draft of FAMILIAR TRICKS for end-June, but I won’t know until mid-April if that’s a feasible timeline.

Because a large segment of my readers here would agree that most any book can be improved by the addition of zombies, I direct your attention towards Zombie Idol, a.k.a. Insert a Zombie, Win a Prize.

The rules are simple: rewrite a passage of an existing book. With zombies. Whee!

If you need further direction, YA author and Zombie Idol judge Justine Larbalestier shows you how it's done, using Joyce as her template. Sweet.

In other news, I am still wrestling with the plot of the current WIP and have received extremely helpful feedback on BoBT from the first of my editorial volunteers. Also, paid employment looms. At least, my bank account hopes it does.

Someday I will learn to concoct a tight, cohesive novel plot before writing over half the novel.

Today, however, is not that day.

More accurately, I realized late on Tuesday that my W.I.P. contains a set of characters who are interesting, cool and contribute nothing but exposition to the story. Whoops! So I spent yesterday reworking the plot without them, dicing through my existing 70,000 words for the 42,000 that are salvagable. Fun!

Actually, it sort of was, in the way that owning up to one's mistakes and fixing them is fun. If you don't think this is fun, you should try it some time, minus all the excuses and back-pedaling.

Toronto is blanketed in snow. It is extraordinarily pretty.

YA Author John Green is not a pornographer.

UK citizen Cat Le-Huy (Diz) is not a drug smuggler.
(please sign the petition!)

castellucci is, however, pretty darned awesome.

* * *

General update: Mostly, I'm writing. The first draft of Familiar Tricks, which wants to be a much longer book than I'd anticipated, is about 2/3rds complete, and I've just finished an edit of Bearers of Bad Tidings, which has been sent to a few brave souls for their review. I'm feeling a bit nervous about that.

Vegas was entertaining. It deserves an entry of its own, but there's no telling when I'll have time for blog catch-up. Short version: it's both liberating and confusing to be in a place which encourages gawking, photo-taking, meandering tourist behaviour.

Affairs with my accountant are finally settled! My files are safely back in my possession and everything seems to be in order. Insomnia reduction: 14%.

Yesterday, I shoveled this sidewalk in this outfit. Platform boots get surprisingly good traction in fresh snow.

Settled in safely at Mandalay Bay. Schwank.
Turbulent flight. Also, seat-kickers.

Sleep now.
Librarians tomorrow!

The Monte Carlo is on fire.



Did I mention that zubkavich and I are staying at the Monte Carlo?

So, does anyone have advice on what to do in Vegas when your hotel is on fire?

zubkavich and I will be at the Las Vegas-Clark County Library District ComicsFest this Saturday: admission is free, so if you're in the area, feel free to drop by and say hi!

And yes, I did say VEGAS.

VEGAS VEGAS VEGAS.

So there is this ongoing saga with my accountant, who has the original documents for my late tax filings from 2000-2006. Long story short, I need to get back my stuff, which has been made impossible by her ongoing refusal to meet with me, and her habit of leaving town for extended periods of time.

Any (serious) suggestions on how I can get my files back from her? I'm considering the police, but I'm uncertain if they'll be much help, and once I escalate to that level, well: bridges, flaming.