Anissa's Random Ramblings

Why It's Good to Be AU

anissa7118 — Wed, 27 Feb 2013 23:00:21 GMT

Because we can take a long, hard look at what the canon source is doing, and then say, "Hell no."

It's no secret that Lois and I are by turns confused and disgusted by the turn DC has taken in its comics the last couple years. Sinking the Clois ship so hard it's already a damn coral reef, fridging some of our favorite characters, the overall way they've treated women since the reboot--we're not sure what DC thinks it's doing, but if they're trying to stir up controversy and alienate long-term hardcore fans, that certainly seems to be working.

If we see something we like in the New 52, we'll use it. But so far? All we're seeing is what not to do.

And for today's news specifically: We've already shown you Talia and Damian in Love and Other Headaches. Let me just state for the record that we will not be reducing Talia to a one-note psychotic villain, and we will not be killing Damian--or any other ten-year-old--during the course of any fic. Both of those characters have important roles to play in Blood Will Tell, too, which is why we've introduced them here.

Coauthor and Voice of Doom, out.

Why I've Always Hated 'Tolerance', Or, Unfocused Rambling

anissa7118 — Thu, 01 Sep 2011 04:17:17 GMT

*Prompted by various conversations recently, including at work, in which I've shocked people by not being shocked.

Friends, I neither preach nor practice tolerance.

Allow me to direct you to Merriam-Webster's definition, to whit:

Definition of TOLERANCE
1: capacity to endure pain or hardship : endurance, fortitude, stamina
2a : sympathy or indulgence for beliefs or practices differing from or conflicting with one's own b : the act of allowing something : toleration

Yeah. To me, tolerance has always had the connotation of putting up with something you'd rather not deal with. My dog Vixen tolerates baths, because she is a gracious and well-behaved lady dog, but she damn sure doesn't like them. I don't want to be tolerated, and I'm not tolerant of other people. I do not endure their quirks and I do not indulge their different beliefs and practices. I delight in them. I accept them. For contrast, the definition of acceptance:

Definition of ACCEPTANCE
2: the quality or state of being accepted or acceptable
3: the act of accepting : the fact of being accepted : approval

Yes, that. Exactly that. Whoever you are, whatever your beliefs, if you are reading this, then I accept you as you are. Whatever strange habits you have, I accept them too. Because - c'mere, folks, lean in close, I'm about to whisper one of the Dread Secrets of Life to you.

'Normal' is an illusion.

You heard me. I'm not giving you the dictionary definition because you have to wade through a bunch of stuff, but here's the gist. 'Normal' is perfectly average. That's why the 'normal' number of kids was 2.6. Do you know anyone with 6/10ths of a kid? I don't. But the mathematical average is 2.6, so that's what normal is. It's a meaningful value, but no one should ever feel bad that they deviate from the norm. The majority of people deviate from the norm, because it's an average and most folks won't hit it dead on (see 2.6 kids above).

So no, you're not normal. Neither am I. No one in the world is completely normal, and if such a person existed, they'd be fucking terrifying. And all of those strange quirks, odd habits, and out-there beliefs? In a way, they're perfectly normal. Deviation from the norm is more normal than absolute compliance to normality.

We're all weirdos. We all have at least one secret we're hiding, one thing that embarrasses us to admit. And we all think that secret is the deepest, darkest, most obscenely awful freakiness that ever freaked. Even if it's just your funky-shaped birthmark or something.

I don't care what that secret is for you, I love you for it. Not in spite of it. For it. Because you might be ashamed of yourself, but to me, it's evidence that you're human. And I guarantee you, that no matter how dark it is, there's someone out there for whom it's totally vanilla.

Odds are, that someone is me. I am one of the most accepting people you'll meet. (So is Lois, btw.) Feel free to try to freak me out sometime; it's damn difficult to do. I may give away prizes to anyone who can make me go 'whoa shit, you did what now?' Because really, I have talked to a lot of people who do not comply with the notion of normality, and my 'whoa shit' bar is very high. Then again, I'm gay, pagan, kinky, and a writer, so I guess my 'whoa shit' bar was always gonna be high.

The fact that I'm cool with all kinds of things means people just tell me stuff. And that's fine with me. I think it's important for people to know that they're not horrible awful bad wicked folks just because they have these secrets. If you can read this, then I love you no matter what you've done or said or thought. I might want an explanation for why, because there are things in this world I have never encountered before and do not comprehend, but it's more fascinating to learn about them than to run screaming into the night.

So yeah. If you are someone who's told me something in confidence that you haven't told many other people (and there are lots of folks who fit that definition), know that I do not judge you and I do not think less of you. You have made mistakes in your life; you are human, and we are not perfect, so chillax already, I won't beat you up about it. You probably have aspects of yourself you think are deeply weird; I think they're pretty cool, because I am endlessly fascinated by and interested in the vast diversity of human experience.

It all boils down to this: I love you all, just as you are. I'm not interested in fixing you, because I don't think any of you are broken. If you need a shoulder to lean on or just an ear to talk to, I'm here.

Superman Movieverse Pairings Challenge!

anissa7118 — Mon, 03 May 2010 17:28:45 GMT

Yes, this entry is still part of the challenge located here. There are several ficlets below, none above a PG-13 rating (mostly for language and some nudity).

The One I Love the Most | Clark/Martha | 377 words | G | innocent, sincere

Clark is almost ten – they’ve had him for seven years. He’s largely forgotten his past, except for some nights when he wakes from dreams speaking in a language never before heard on this Earth. It’s always Martha who goes in to soothe him back to sleep on those nights. Only once has she ever found the courage to ask him what he dreams, and he said he didn’t remember anything but stars.

He has thrown her entire life off-kilter. Before, it was her and Jonathan, and the farm. Now there’s this little wonder from another world tagging at her heels, his wide blue eyes turned up to hers, full of curiosity and adoration. Her heart squeezes in her chest like a fist every time she looks at him. The love for her husband is powerful and wonderful, a blessing for sure, but what she feels for this little boy is terrible in its way. Martha has lied to keep him, falsified records and lied to everyone she knows in Smallville about where he came from.

She knows she would do so much more than lie to protect him. God help anyone who harms her boy.

It’s Valentine’s Day today, and he comes home from school with a huge card he made just for her. It’s almost as tall as he is, and she can’t help covering her mouth to hide a laugh as he trots up the drive with it in his hands. He’s so very serious, her son, he wouldn’t like it if she laughed at his gift.

Red and pink aren’t Martha’s favorite colors, so Clark made his card in blue and green and yellow, the colors of the farm: azure sky, verdant grass, golden wheat. He shows it to her gravely, and she compliments him as she opens it. Inside is a dedication in letters rather neater than the average ten-year-old’s.

“Mrs. Baker said Valentine’s Day is for telling someone you love them. So I made this card for you, Ma, because you’re the one I love the most.”

Martha can’t help getting a little teary-eyed, and she gathers her son close for a hug and a kiss. “You’re the one I love most of all, too,” she whispers to her own little miracle.

Blood Brothers | Ben Hubbard/Jonathan Kent | 994 words | PG-13 | naked

All the kids skinny-dip. After a certain age, they don’t do it so much anymore, and they definitely don’t go co-ed. But it’s not a hard and fast rule. A group of guys might decide to go jump in the lake or the swimming hole together, leaving their clothes off so their moms won’t find out what they’ve been up to when there’s a little waterweed in the waistband of someone’s shorts.

Rumor has it girls sometimes do the same. The teenage boys whisper their speculations to each other, eyes wide and pulses pounding in their throats at the thought. No one has ever seen the girls go skinny-dipping, except Al Lutter, and he might be lying. He also claims to have seen lights moving across the sky at night, and says they’re UFOs, so he’s not exactly a trusted source.

For Jonathan, on a hot summer day when he’s camping out with his friend Ben, it’s a brilliant idea. They were fishing all morning and never got a nibble, and since they were counting on trout for breakfast they’re hungry and out of sorts by midday. Taking a dip in the lake – ‘soaking your head’ as his Pa likes to call it – sounds like a good way to shake off their annoyance. And if they see a fish, Jonathan thinks he’ll catch it with his bare hands just for spite.

But Ben shies off. “C’mon,” Jonathan says, laughing, and strips his shirt off. Ben gulps and looks away, muttering that he doesn’t want to. Jonathan shakes his head. “Don’t be silly. It’s hot, we’re both sweaty, we might as well just jump in.”

“Nah,” Ben says, just standing there. “We might scare the fish.”

Jonathan makes a rude noise. “Those darn fish aren’t scared of us. They’re laughing at us, Ben! If there’s even any there. It might be they’re way down at the bottom, since it’s so hot.” He stares at his friend, wondering why Ben’s acting this way.

“You go,” Ben says. “I’ll just…”

Jonathan’s having none of it. “What’re you, chicken?” The reminder of the games they played as kids, daring each other to crazy stunts, makes both of them smile. Jonathan tucks his hands into his armpits, crouches down, and starts flapping his elbows while clucking loudly.

Ben laughs at him. “You look like an idiot. Fine, fine, if it means so much to ya.” He takes off his shirt and starts unbuckling his pants.

Jonathan makes one last chicken noise, the cackle of a hen who’s just laid an egg, before straightening back up. “Good on you, Ben.” He’s taking off his shorts as he speaks, thumbs under the elastic of his briefs skimming them off as well.

Ben’s just dropped his own pants, standing there in his briefs, and Jonathan sees a strange thing then. There’s suddenly a peak in the front of Ben’s shorts. They’re both sixteen, they know exactly what that is and what it means.

Jonathan’s eyes flick up to his friend’s face, shocked. Ben turns an incredible shade of maroon, grabs his clothes, and runs blindly into the woods. “Wait!” Jonathan yells, though he’s not sure why. He snatches up his own clothes, yanks his pants on, leaves the shirt behind as he chases Ben.

He catches the other boy when Ben trips over a root and falls full-length in the dirt. Jonathan grabs him, sees he’s put his shirt on backwards as he was running, and pulls him around. For a moment he’s not sure what he’s going to do. Part of him wants to punch Ben wildly; he’s not a queer, he likes girls, and the accepted response of a red-blooded male realizing another guy just got a hard-on from seeing him naked is to end the friendship in a bloody brawl. Jonathan cocks his fist back, his mouth twisting into a snarl.

But this is Ben, his best friend, and he hesitates. They’ve known each other since they were five, they fought off the school bullies together, they’ve gone fishing and hunting and camping and canoeing together. They’ve mocked the same teachers and stared at the same girls, and three years ago when Ben stole one of his older brother’s porno magazines, they sat in the tree house together and marveled at the wonders it revealed. It’s Ben, they’re blood brothers, they promised they’d be friends forever, and Ben’s crying horrible harsh sobs with his eyes all squinched up and red. He’s not even trying to defend himself, hanging limply from Jonathan’s hold on his shirt.

He can’t do it. Instead of beating him up, Jonathan hugs him, and after a startled moment Ben wraps around him like a strangler vine. He’s trying to talk even though he’s sniffling, and Jonathan can barely make sense of it. “Didn’t want you to know…” Well, that he can understand.

“It’s all right, Ben,” Jonathan says, patting his back awkwardly, and Ben’s skin is hot like a little kid with a fever. “It’s okay.”

Ben pulls back and wipes his face on the tail of his shirt. There’s a strange, fey sort of dignity to him when he faces Jonathan again. “I’m not queer,” he says, but his voice trembles.

Jonathan’s mouth quirks up in a wry smile, the grin he doesn’t quite realize makes Ben’s heart skip a beat. “Not the way you stare at Susie Larridan, you’re not.” He imitates Ben’s infatuated face then, exaggerating the slack jaw and the glazed eyes. It makes Ben laugh, which is what Jonathan wanted, and then they’re sort of okay again. In time, if they don’t talk about this again, they’ll be all the way okay.

Ben holds his hand out, turning it palm upward to show the small scar at the base of his thumb. “Blood brothers,” he says.

Jonathan smacks his hand into his friend’s, both of them gripping tightly so the two scars align. “Blood brothers,” he says back, fiercely. “Forever.”

Wish Upon a Falling Star | Jonathan Kent/Martha Clark | 940 words | G | stars

Jonathan throws pebbles at her window until she opens it. “Shh!” she hisses. “What are you doing?”

He grins so broadly it feels like his face is going to split. “Come with me!” he whispers back, trying to pitch his voice so it carries to her and not the rest of the house.

“You’re crazy,” Martha Clark tells him, and goes to shut the window.

“Don’t you want to see the meteor shower?” Jonathan says hurriedly, and that gets her attention.

She cranes her head around, peering at the sky. “I don’t see any.”

“Well of course not,” Jonathan scoffs. “It’s too bright here in town. You have to be somewhere dark to see them.”

Martha crosses her arms and glares at him, but he just smiles up at her, thumbs hooked in his belt, waiting for her to come around. Then she disappears from the window. He sulks for a moment, scuffing the weeds under his shoe, and heaves a big sigh of disappointment. Oh well, there will be other chances.

Then he hears a tiny sound from the back porch of the Clark house, and Martha comes hurrying out. She got dressed quickly and snuck downstairs to join him. Jonathan breaks into a broad grin and sweeps her into his arms for a hug. She hugs him back; they’ve been going together for a month as of tomorrow, but they haven’t kissed.

Then she pulls away from him and looks up seriously. “You’d better have me home before my parents get up, or we’ll never hear the end of it,” she says sternly.

“Of course,” Jonathan whispers, and kisses her cheek quickly. Grabbing her hand, he leads her up the road a ways to where he left his car. She gets in, he puts it in neutral, and lets the car roll down the hill slowly so they’ll be far away from her parents’ house when he fires the engine.

They drive out to the fields, and Jonathan sees her nibbling at her lower lip like she’s wondering why she’d do such a crazy thing. Girls’ reputations have been ruined for far less than this, a midnight excursion alone to a secluded place. But he’s not like some boys. Jonathan’s smart, and kind, and he knows that she knows she can trust him. It’s why he even thought to ask her to come with him.

Jonathan turns the car just into the farm road, cutting off the headlights and navigating by starlight. He keeps it to the middle of the access path cut for the tractor, and parks in the center of the cornfield without leaving any tell-tale traces of their passage. Backing out will be more difficult, but that he can worry about later. For now, they’re alone in the darkness with the sky spread above them like a handful of jewels flung carelessly into the air.

Martha gasps as he opens her door and she gets out. “It’s beautiful,” she whispers.

“So are you,” Jonathan tells her, and she narrows her eyes at him. He quickly grabs a picnic basket from the back seat and spreads a blanket over the hood of the car. “Sit here. I brought us some sodas and some snacks while we watch the show.”

They wind up lying back against the window of his Pinto, sharing slices of hard cheese, beef jerky, and crackers. Above them the stars wheel by in their slow, lovely dance, and the two teenagers point out constellations they know and make up new ones.

When the first shooting star streaks across the sky, it’s Martha who sees it, and she grabs Jonathan’s arm in excitement. “Make a wish!” she exclaims. But soon the sky is full of them, darting here and there, movement glimpsed from the corner of an eye or searing directly above. Hundreds of meteors, hundreds of wishes, but every time Jonathan wishes for the same thing: the girl beside him.

A star flicks across his vision, and he thinks, Let her love me. Another, and he wishes, Let her kiss me. More stars fall, and Jonathan wishes on them as fast as he can think. Let her be mine, let her say yes when I ask her if she’ll wear my ring, let her marry me. Still another, blazing brighter than the rest, and he concentrates fiercely on this one wish. Let us be together forever and always in love.

When the show is over, they both lie there quietly, the engine of car gone cool long ago. “Wow,” Jonathan whispers.

Martha sits halfway up to look at him. “That was the best one-month-anniversary present ever, Jonathan.”

He gives her a silly grin, glad she can’t see his blush in the darkness. Martha continues with a soft smile, “What did you wish for?”

“An A on the math test,” Jonathan replies jokingly, and she swats at his arm. They both laugh; he is the kind of man who could make a stone chuckle, her father says, and that is a gift worth having. “Well, what did you wish for then?”

Martha only looks at him, and little by little her smile fades until it’s a shy, wistful thing. “Guess,” she whispers.

His heart hammers. Jonathan sits up, looking at her, and she looks right back at him with such serious eyes. He reaches out to cup her cheek, and she doesn’t pull away. Slowly, he leans in, and just before their lips meet they both close their eyes.

Unbeknownst to the two teens who are sharing their first sweet kiss by its light, one last meteor streaks across the sky.

Under the Wide Blue Sky | Ben Hubbard/Jonathan Kent/Martha Kent | 582 words | PG-13 | Kent farm

It’s their farm now, Jonathan’s and Martha’s, and they love every square inch of it. They love the old farmhouse with its many bedrooms, the ones they plan to fill with children; they love the creek and the little band of woods that clings to the edges of it; they love the pond where the ducks paddle and the frogs croak; they love the pasture where all the animals graze, placid in the cool morning hours. But best of all they love the wide fields, ripe with corn and wheat. The scent of the growing crops and the fertile earth makes the young couple a little silly, prone to acting like the teenagers they were not so many years ago.

The only difference is, now they’re married. They don’t have to worry about going too far or their parents finding out. So when they walk out to have a look at the corn crop, its silky tassels stirring in the Kansas breeze, it’s not much of a surprise that Martha looks over her shoulder at Jonathan with a sly grin.

He responds by lunging at her, catching her around the waist and kissing her neck with loud smacking noises. Laughing, she breaks free of him and runs. Jonathan chases her, keeping sight of her blue dress flickering between the corn stalks. For a while she evades him, ducking between the rows. Every time she loses him, however, he finds her again as much by following the sound of her laughter as by tracking her footsteps through the loamy soil.

Jonathan stalks her to a break in the rows and pounces. This time they both fall to the ground, cushioned by the grass that grows around the bases of the corn stalks. He tries to pin her down for a kiss, but she rolls him over and sits atop him, beaming proudly. “Did I catch you, or did you catch me?” Jonathan asks, amusement dancing in his eyes.

“A little of both,” Martha tells him, and bends down to kiss him.

The moment their lips meet, however, there’s a rustling in the corn and a rather embarrassed cough. They both look up to see a very red-faced Ben Hubbard watching them. “I’ll just be going,” he says. “I wanted to see if you two… Well, never mind, you’re … um … busy. It can wait.”

Jonathan and Martha look at each other. Ben is their nearest neighbor, which is a lot of the reason why he and Jonathan were always such good friends. He’d dated Martha briefly. And of course, there was that one time on the camping trip. Jonathan told his new wife about that, believing there should be no secrets in a marriage, and she hadn’t flinched from it. Martha was an open-hearted soul.

So was Jonathan. In an instant, the thought flickers between the two of them, and they both nod, the decision made without a single word. Ben is a good friend, someone they can trust, and they are young enough to believe that the purity of their emotions can tear down all the taboos their stuffy elders have set upon society.

“Or you could always join us,” Martha says in a husky drawl. When Ben turns around, shocked, she gives him a come-hither look from blue eyes that melts any resistance he could muster.

When he smiles, shyly at first and then with blossoming confidence, she pulls the light cotton dress over her head and casts it aside.

Left Behind | Ben Hubbard/Martha Kent | 371 words | PG-13 | loss, comfort, tears, memories

Martha won’t cry in front of her son. Poor Clark is staggering around in a haze, barely aware of what’s going on around him. The kid wasn’t ready to lose his father, but then, Martha wasn’t ready to lose her husband, and Ben wasn’t ready to lose his best friend. Martha forces herself to be strong for her son, but when he goes back to school a week after that terrible day, Ben heads over to the farmhouse.

Martha’s glad to see him, her smile shining through the tears she’s shed every day while Clark was out, and Ben folds her in his arm and lets her cry. He sheds a few tears himself. Nothing shameful in that; Jonathan has been part of his life since they were both just kids. And at times, they’ve been more than friends.

Once the crying’s done, for a while anyway, Ben and Martha sit down over coffee and reminisce. They swap memories of Jonathan, sometimes bringing more tears, but more often bringing laughter. He always saw the humor in things, always looked on the bright side, always knew how to make someone else smile along with him. Sure, when he was feeling threatened or protective Jonathan could be a stern man, but those he held close to his heart knew he was kind and gentle beneath the mask of necessary hardness.

By sharing the burden of their grief, they’ve both lightened the loads they carry. It would be nice to sit here all day thinking back on the past, on all the wonderful memories Jonathan left with them both. But the farms wait for no one, and the chores must be done. They both know it, and make their goodbyes graciously.

When Ben reaches for the door, however, Martha catches his hand. He turns to her questioningly, this woman he’s loved for more than thirty years as a friend and sometimes as a lover. She kisses his cheek, and Ben smiles. “Thank you,” Martha tells him.

“No, thank you,” he replies, tucking a strand of her graying hair behind her ear.

They both loved Jonathan, and he loved them both too. At least when they’re together, it’s almost as if he’s not quite gone.

Superman Movieverse Pairings Challenge!

anissa7118 — Mon, 03 May 2010 03:06:53 GMT

Title: No More Long Island Iced Teas
Pairing: Lana Lang/Lois Lane
Prompts: worship
Rating: PG-13, profanity, girls kissing
Words: 844

PLEASE NOTE: This is NOT canon to Little Secrets/Heirs to the House of El 'verse.

It’s there and they all know it, the tension between them apparent even to both husbands. Lana keeps it under wraps most of the time. She and Lois are friends, they’ve married each other’s exes, they share parenting duties for all the kids from both couples. Most of the time, those reasons explain the closeness between the redhead and the reporter.

But there’s that tiny percentage of time when it’s not, when it’s much more than friends. Lois can drink all night without her personality changing, but get two drinks into Lana, and the strait-laced Midwestern girl is gone. Blitzed, grinning like a fool, she’s a different woman. A much less inhibited woman.

For Lana, that doesn’t mean drunk-dancing with a lampshade on her head. It mostly means she’ll talk in detail about things she would never mention sober, like how she’s so grateful Lois taught Richard that little tongue trick that drives her absolutely wild.

And there’s one more thing that changes with alcohol: the way Lana looks at her. Usually Lois sees affectionate amusement in those sea-green eyes, but as the drinks are poured there’s a lot more affection and a lot less amusement. Lana watches her almost reverently, with a lover’s eyes.

It’s a girl-crush, it happens. Lois isn’t freaked out by that, and she won’t call Lana on it later because she won’t embarrass her friend. After the first time though, Lana takes to drinking very lightly when they’re out on the town, as if she knows that Lois knows, and it’s scared her off.

Tension. In the beginning it was the tension of two rivals who both had claims to the same two men, but they settled that. Now it’s another kind of tension, more subtle, just as potent.

Out with the girls on a Saturday night, all of them raising hell, and Lois stops to chill in the corner of the bar. It’s been a wild night, live music and lots of alcohol, a break from her responsible life. Tomorrow she can be a wife and mother again. She puts the cold glass against her forehead, sighing.

Lois feels the weight of eyes on her, and looks up to meet Lana’s stare. Those eyes are absolutely steady, the look in them utterly sincere … and full of heat. The hair at the nape of Lois’ neck rises even as she glances at the glass in Lana’s hand. The liquid on ice is pale amber. “What’re you having, Lana?” Lois asks with forced casualness.

“Some kind of iced tea,” the redhead purrs back. “They’re delicious. Want one? I’ve had six, the bartender won’t make me another.”

Six Long Island Iced Teas… Oh, hell, Lana’s really drunk. Thankfully Lois has cab fare to get them both home. “C’mon, Red, let’s get out of here,” she says, hoping Richard won’t be too pissed when he finds out. Lois makes her apologizes to the rest of the gang, calls a cab, and gets Lana outside, hoping the cold night air will sober her up.

It doesn’t. She’s still watching Lois the same way, the look of a cat about to pounce and devour, and Lois doesn’t like that. She’s not prey. But when she tries giving Lana a mildly irritated look, just enough to remind her to lay off, the redhead only steps closer. She’s not falling-down drunk, just liquored up enough to put a sway in her step that was never there before.

Now Lois is nervous. “Red?” she says.

Lana catches Lois’ shoulders and leans in close. “Clark wouldn’t mind, and Richard would love it,” she murmurs.

“Lana, you’re drunk,” Lois says, making her voice stern.

It doesn’t deter the redhead. She leans in even more, almost nose to nose with Lois, their gazes locked. A breath away from Lois’ lips, Lana whispers, “I would worship you.”

That sends shivers down Lois’ spine she never expected. Wait, this was supposed to be just a one-sided crush, so why is her heart hammering, why is this warmth blooming low in her belly? She swallows, trying to think what to say, because she knows Lana’s about to lean in and kiss her and she’s not quite sure how she’ll react. One thing’s clear: she won’t be laughing it off.

Just then, the taxi’s headlights bathe them both in brilliant light. Saved in the nick of time, Lois sighs gratefully. “Come on, cheerleader. Let’s get you home. And no more Long Island Iced Teas for you.”

Once they’re in the back of the cab, Lana murmurs, “If this is the only time I’ll be drunk enough, then…” And the next thing Lois knows, the redhead has caught her chin and kissed her full on the mouth. Not a sloppy drunk kiss with more enthusiasm than accuracy, this is a kiss full of passion denied, and the heat of it burns Lois down to the core.

Lois breaks away, wide-eyed, and Lana grins lazily at her. Oh, shit. It doesn’t look like they’re going to be able to pretend this didn’t happen tomorrow morning.

Superman Movieverse Pairings Challenge!

anissa7118 — Mon, 03 May 2010 02:14:18 GMT

Title: A Shoulder to Lean On
Pairing: Ella Lane/Perry White
Prompts: loss, comfort, hug
Rating: G
Words: 402

Please npte: This IS canon to Little Secrets/Heirs to the House of El 'verse. No, there was never a comfort-sex hookup between them, but this exact scene did happen in the continuity of that story.

Even grief became her. Widow’s black contrasted well with her pale skin and pure white hair, and made jewels of her hazel eyes. Right now, though, those enthralling eyes were reddened by the tears she’d already wept and the ones she was holding back.

Perry wasn’t sure what to do. They were supposed to be having their usual semi-monthly meeting to discuss her daughter, whom he’d recently promoted to city beat reporter. Lois had moved out of her parents’ house when she was sixteen after yet another argument with her father, and Ella had found it difficult to get new of her since then. She’d asked Perry to look after her headstrong child, and to Perry’s surprise he’d grown quite fond of the girl.

Not that way – Lois was like a daughter to him. And saying that, was it any wonder he was carrying a torch for her mother? Ella Lane was beautiful, but beyond that, she had a grace and poise that turned the hardboiled editor into a quivering lump of tongue-tied admiration.

And now, barely two weeks after her husband’s funeral, here was Ella trying to keep her composure as Perry fumbled through an account of Lois’ recent successes. He fell silent afterward, unsure what to say or do. He knew she was grieving; no matter how many problems had soured the relationship between father and daughter, Ella had loved her husband deeply. Even Lois, for all she claimed to hate the man, had wept in Perry’s arms when she got the news of his death.

“I’m sorry, Peregrine,” Ella said, her voice starting to break. “It’s just … I’d hoped they would have a chance to reconcile. He was so proud when she landed that front-page article. He couldn’t tell her, and she wouldn’t have listened anyway, and now … it’ll never be.”

“And you miss him,” Perry said gently, taking her hand. Ella’s eyes flew up to his, their hazel depths laced with pain. She blinked, and a tear ran down her cheek.

Biting his lip, not knowing what to say, Perry reached out to stroke the tear away with a permanently ink-stained thumb. To his shock, Ella pressed her cheek into his hand. Her gaze met his, full of terrible loneliness.

The next thing Perry knew, he had her in his arms, her head cradled on his shoulder. He murmured against her hair, “You’re not alone, Elinore.”

Superman Movieverse Pairings Challenge!

anissa7118 — Sun, 02 May 2010 20:50:07 GMT

Here's the deal. Go to this entry to find the rules to the challenge saavikam77 and I came up with. The main objective is to challenge everyone's creativity and write as many different pairings as possible. So expect to see a LOT of small fic posts from me, some of them with seriously off-the-wall pairings.

Pairing: Ella Lane/Martha Kent
Prompts: Smallville, friendship, understand
Rating: G - the actual romantic reference flies waaaaaaaaaaaaaay under the radar.
Words: 268

Ella came downstairs in the morning to find coffee already brewed. Smiling, she stood in the kitchen watching the sunrise over the Kansas fields. Here at the Kent farm, she’d found beauty and tranquility that Metropolis could never offer. It was so peaceful here in the dimness, watching and listening as the world woke up.

The kitchen door opened and closed, reminding her that some parts of the world were already awake and going about their business, which is why she had coffee waiting on her. Ella smiled; only Martha Kent got up earlier than she did. Lois, Clark, and their children were all still in bed at this hour, though Clark would soon be off on his rounds.

“Good morning,” Martha said. Her smile said all the things she couldn’t speak. It was lucky for both of them that their children had fallen in love, gotten married, and had children of their own, even if they hadn’t done those things in the accepted order. The two widows had found in each other kindred spirits. Neither of them had had someone they could trust completely, not since their husbands passed. And neither of them had ever really had anyone to whom they could confess their deepest fears for their often troublesome offspring.

Ella handed Martha the cup of coffee she’d poured for her, already sweetened and doctored with creamer exactly the way Martha would have done herself. “It’s always a good morning when I’m here,” Ella said quietly.

Martha grinned back, her blue eyes twinkling. “And your daughter thinks you only come here to be with the grandkids.”

Heirs chatter

anissa7118 — Sat, 13 Mar 2010 19:17:04 GMT

It's been clear to me for a while now - say the last year or so - that Heirs to the House of El isn't gonna be like Little Secrets. LS redefined a lot of things - loyalty, secrecy, even the meaning of family. Heirs is going several layers deeper than that. I always knew this was going to be a darker story, that we were gonna take one character right to the edge of the abyss, and drag several of them to within inches of their deaths. That's why we did that Authors' Note, wherein we warned everyone that nothing's what it seems and no one is safe. That's why the prologue opened with Ella Lane's death, because that one event is still echoing back and forth among the characters, and it's a harbinger of what is to come.

That's why the attack on Lana Lang occurred so much earlier than the rest of the action scenes: it was a warning shot. Because if my Lana, ever gracious Midwestern girl, kind-hearted and forgiving, who might manipulate you but only for your own good, can get carved up by one of Luthor's henchmen, and then in defense of her daughter turn around and damn near decapitate the woman with that lovely chef's knife we showed way back when Kala first ran away ... if Lana's a killer now, then hopefully everyone has their seatbelts on, because it's only going to get wilder from here.

Another member of the cast decided to enlighten me about the past while I was struggling to flesh out a scene last night. I did a little more research than we did for LS, and I was rather shocked by some of the things I learned. All of them have hidden depths, and Clark isn't the only one who has another identity or two lying around. Does that ever happen to you, fellow writers? Do your characters manage to shock you with revelations about themselves that you didn't know, but when you look at how you've written them, it seems you've been unconsciously accounting for those revelations all along?

Last chapter was heavy on the action, and so is this one. There's violence coming, and it's not over the top, but it was a little hard to write. My Luthor plays for keeps, and he doesn't care about collateral damage. Only against a villain like him, who has no limits, who will sacrifice anyone and anything to achieve his goals, can we plumb the depths of our heroes. Clark may be the only one wearing a cape, but I think we're demonstrating that heroism comes in quite a few other flavors, several of which are represented in this family.

And they are a family, no matter what.

100 Books in 2009

anissa7118 — Wed, 21 Oct 2009 02:47:25 GMT

Has anyone been wondering what I've been reading lately? Here's your answer.

Also, a quick shout-out to birthday girl bistyboo1974, another book-lover and friend here on LJ. Posting from work means I love ya, hon!

71 / 100 books. 71% done!

1. Bag of Bones, by Stephen King
2. The Golden Compass, of the His Dark Materials trilogy, by Philip Pullman
3. Cry to Heaven, by Anne Rice
4. The Good Guy, by Dean Koontz
5. The Sands of Mars by Arthur C. Clarke
6. Duma Key by Stephen King
7. Watership Down by Richard Adams
8. The Intelligence of Dogs: Canine Consciousness and Capabilities by Stanley Coren
9. I Sing the Body Electric, by Ray Bradbury
10. Last Dance, Last Chance by Ann Rule
11. Dogs Who Found Me, by Ken Foster
12. Wolf Hunting by Jane Lindskold
13. Through Wolf's Eyes by Jane Lindskold
14. Wolf's Head, Wolf's Heart by Jane Lindskold
15. The Dragon of Despair by Jane Lindskold
16. Cry Wolf by Patricia Briggs
17. Aerie by Mercedes Lackey
18. Wolf Captured by Jane Lindskold
19. Wolf's Blood by Jane Lindskold
20. The Cat Who Dropped the Bomb by Lilian Jackson Braun
21. The Cat Who Had 60 Whiskers by Lilian Jackson Braun
22. Tommyknockers by Stephen King
23. For Bea: The Story of the Beagle Who Changed My Life by Kristen von Kreisler
24. Dead Until Dark by Charlaine Harris
25. Falconry for Beginners by Lee Harris
26. Equinox: Life, Love, and Birds of Prey by Dan O'Brien
27. A Wing in the Door by Peri Philips McQuay
28. Eagle Dreams by Stephen Bodio
29. "Mom, Jason's Breathing on Me!": The Solution to Sibling Bickering by Anthony Wolf
30. Spoken in Whispers: The Autobiography of a Horse Whisperer by Nicci Mackay
31. My Lead Dog Was A Lesbian: Mushing Across Alaska in the Iditarod--The World's Most Grueling Race by Brian Patrick O'Donoghue 32. Blue Diablo by Ann Aguirre
33. Building the Perfect PC by Robert Thompson and Barbara Fritchman Thompson
34. Hide This Spanish Book by Berlitz Publishing
35. Foundations by Mercedes Lackey
36. Moving Targets edited by Mercedes Lackey
37. Rites of Autumn: A Falconer's Journey Across the American West by Dan O'Brien
38. Buffalo for the Broken Heart: Restoring Life to a Black Hills Ranch by Dan O'Brien
39. The Dogs of Windcutter Down: One Shepherd's Struggle for Survival by David Kennard
40. The Daily Coyote: A Story of Love, Survival, and Trust in the Wilds of Wyoming by Shreve Stockton
41. Shadow Mountain: A Memoir of Wolves, a Woman, and the Wild by Renee Askins
42. Be the Pack Leader: Use Cesar's Way to Transform Your Dog ... And Your Life by Cesar Milan and Melissa Jo Peltier
43. The Queen Must Die and Other Affairs of Bees and Men by William Longwood and Pamela Johnson
44. The Horses of Proud Spirit by Melanie Sue Bowles
45. Hoof Prints: More Stories from Proud Spirit by Melanie Sue Bowles
46. The Last Hero: A Discworld Fable by Terry Pratchett and Paul Kidby
47. Paganism: An Introduction to Earth-Centered Religions by River and Joyce Higginbotham.
48. Three Among the Wolves: A Couple and Their Dog Live a Year with Wolves in the Wild by Helen Thayer
49. Dogs of Dreamtime: A Story About Second Chances and the Power of Love by Karen Stanley
50. Cesar’s Way: The Natural, Everyday Guide to Understanding and Correcting Common Dog Problems by Cesar Millan and Melissa Jo Peltier
51. City of Bone
52. City of Ashes
53. City of Glass, The Mortal Instruments Trilogy by Cassandra Clare
54. Orcs by Stan Nicholls
55. Eats, Shoots, and Leaves: The Zero Tolerance Approach to Punctuation by Lynne Truss
56. Desperation by Stephen King
57. Rose Madder by Stephen King
58. Just After Midnight by Stephen King
59. The Gift of Fear: And Other Survival Signals that Protect Us from Violence by Gavin de Becker
60. Living Dead in Dallas by Charlaine Harris
61. The Whole Death Catalog: A Lively Guide to the Bitter End by Harold Schecter
62. Bonk: The Curious Coupling of Science and Sex by Mary Roach
63. Bone Crossed by Patricia Briggs
64. Kicked, Bitten, and Scratched: Life and Lessons at the World's Premier School for Exotic Animal Trainers by Amy Sutherland
65. The Rhino with Glue-On Shoes: And Other Surprising True Stories of Zoo Vets and Their Patients by Lucy H. Spelman DVM and Ted Y. Mashima DVM

66. The Golden Cat by Gabriel King

I've read this book and its predecessor, The Wild Road, many times since their publication. I happen to be very fond of that genre of animal stories which include Richard Adams' Watership Down and Garris??'s Hunters' Moon (published in the US as The Foxes of Firstdark). Quite often these fanciful stories are grounded in a deep love for and understanding of the featured animals, and in some cases a scholarly study thereof. While I can't say that Gabriel King is a feral cat naturalist, he surely loves his cats, and his portrayal of them is delightful. The characters are fascinating, and the convoluted plot is worth the long ride with all its twists and turns. I must admit, my favorite character of all is Sealink, and if King ever gave the Delta Queen a book of her own, I'd be one of the first to purchase it.

67. Hunting Ground by Patricia Briggs

New favorite author. Briggs rocks - she does an amazing job of first-person description in the Mercy Thompson books, and with these novels set in the same world she shows how well she handles third-person perspective. The tradeoff is that I don't feel as close to Charles and Anna, the couple around whom the Alpha and Omega series revolves, as I do to Mercy. But I still like the pair. They're both werewolves, but he has some interesting background as a Native American, and she has some issues with having been Changed against her will. Exploring their relationship dynamic alongside the plot full of political maneuvering and interesting characters makes for very good reading.

68. On the Prowl by Patricia Briggs, Eileen Wilks, Karen Chance, and Sunny

I went to the library and checked out this anthology of four novellas just to get the story by Patricia Briggs, which is the prequel to the novels Cry Wolf and Hunting Ground. I have read both and reviewed them on my journal, so you can guess how much I like them. The tale of how Charles and Anna met is very interesting, but a little more sparse than Briggs' usual writing, the result of space constraints. As for the other three stories, I liked Eileen Wilks' Inhuman for its interesting premise and well-written characters, but all four in this book seem to suffer from a forced amount of romance. I don't subscribe to the premise that whoever makes your genitals sing is your perfect soul mate, and especially in Karen Chance's story, I was more annoyed with the hero than in awe of him. I think every story in the book has a moment in which the main characters are just SO in lust with each other that they have what sounds like completely involuntary physical reactions - they pounce on each other, grope and kiss and pant, and it just read like "hello, porn as plot device, right here" to me. If you like your horny heroines and irresistibly hunky heroes, though, read and enjoy.

69. Club Dead by Charlaine Harris

The next two books are on hold at the library. I've read three now, and I like them, even if I worry for Sookie and I'm getting pissed at Bill. I'm also more and more intrigued by Eric and Pam. Suffice it to say that I will likely finish the series. I like Harris' style, I like her characters - these are people I almost know, folks who wouldn't seem out of place in my own little slice of the south. I've read spoilers that tell me the direction I'm sensing the series heading in is probably the right one, so I'm happy to go along and see how Harris handles it.

70. No Reservations: Around the World on an Empty Stomach by Anthony Bourdain

I love the show - Lois and I record every episode. We're both more than half in love with Tony Bourdain himself, that endlessly snarky sonofabitch who's still somehow erudite and educated. He can sound so very highbrow one moment, practically declaiming poetry, and in the next make a crude, lewd joke, usually at his own expense. He manages to respect the culture and cuisine of the countries he visits, while reminding us that he's a New York chef, a curmudgeon of the highest order. This book lets us a little further in to the world of No Reservations, and shows us what it's like to make the show. Pretty much everything you want to know - production notes, photographs of splendid food, commentary on the crew, even the best and worst bathrooms in the world - is in these pages. Fans of the show should get the book, NOW. It's one I could read over and over again.

71. The Nasty Bits: Collected Varietal Cuts, Usable Trim, Scraps, and Bones by Anthony Bourdain

Based on the first three words of the title, I was hoping this would be a book about some of the crazy things Bourdain has eaten: warthog rectum, raw seal eye, things of that nature. Instead, I found a collection of Bourdain's essays, plus one short story, that are by turns riotously funny, heartwarming, profound, and frustrating. Worth the read for any fan of his show, his work, or seriously heavy-duty snark mixed with intelligent commentary.

Snow in Winter: Original Fiction

anissa7118 — Sun, 13 Sep 2009 04:31:30 GMT

So, here's some of that original fiction I've been talking about. I'm not making much progress on the illustrations I *wanted* to do for it, so I'm posting the one I did manage to get done.

This is set in the world of Dark Rising, the original urban fantasy series Lois and I have been working on since high school. The art and story below are absolutely copyrighted to Anissa Roy, and if anybody steals my work I shall rain fire and destruction and lawsuits upon them.

You don't need to know much about the backstory to enjoy this, other than the fact that Arianne is an American-born teenage witch currently living in Paris, where she's managed to fall in with all sorts of troubling people: witches, werewolves, and vampires, oh my.

**I've been editing my Adult Content filter on my LJ. This one is listed as Adult Concepts for its violence.

Pale winter sunlight, magnified by the large, south-facing windows, shone into the bedroom. It touched Arianne, deeply asleep from the flu remedy she’d taken. And it glittered off of Snow, almost blindingly white.

The young woman lay stretched out, her black hair spread across the pillow, one hand lying palm up on the coverlet. Ari had not felt well for two days, and now she had finally been forced to take some NyQuil and stay in bed. Beside her, Ari’s fingers brushing the thick fur of her ruff, lay Snowdrift, the wolf. White as her Arctic cousins, white as her namesake, only her blue eyes, black pads, and black nose interrupted the pristine perfection of her coat. At the moment, Snow was asleep, but her ears pricked at some slight sound, and her blue eyes opened to slits.

Her son, Gavin, lay on the floor in a tight ball, his tail covering his nose. His mother might be able to stretch out and bask in the sun on Ari’s bed, but when he had put a paw up there, Snowdrift showed him her teeth. So he slept on the floor, snoring gently. At ten months old, he was almost as big as she was, and by the size of his paws he would be even larger, perhaps his father’s size, when he finally filled out. His coat was far darker than either of his parents, and so thick as to be almost comically fluffy. Gavin resembled nothing so much as a wolfish teddy bear, especially now, when he was asleep.

Snow listened attentively. The sound she’d heard was not Gavin’s nasal snore, and she doubted Ari had stirred since drinking that bitter-smelling stuff. Humans, always sick, always passing germs around, and drinking remedies that were fouler than their symptoms. Her own hardened Lunaean immune system was resistant to most common illnesses, though kennel cough was always an annoyance. Fortunately Allyson kept them vaccinated…

There. A stealthy scrape, outside the house. Snowdrift’s hackles rose, and her lips lifted. It might only be Sontheimer, coming to check on his beloved, worried all out of proportion because he himself was never ill. But she knew there was trouble in the city – some in the vampire’s Parliament objected to their Master taking a human lover, even a witch such as Ari, and some of them might just be stupid enough to try to harm the girl.

Snow leaped down silently. If it was Sontheimer, she had only given up a moment’s comfort. If not, whoever it was would soon discover their folly in trying to harm a witch under the protection of one of the pack’s greatest warriors.

Gavin scrambled to his feet, tail lashing eagerly. His poor notched ear tried to prick up in excitement, and Snow felt a moment’s grief and gratitude. Grief, that her favorite child had been harmed, scarred for life. Gratitude, that Arianne’s intervention, which had earned the girl a scar or two herself, had saved his life. It was this blood-debt as much as her own affection for Ari that had Snow living here in the city instead of with her own people in the forest.

But here was Gavin, quivering all over with eagerness to play. He more than looked like a child’s toy, he was as friendly and sweet-natured as his appearance suggested. Now was not the time for games, though. Snow held her ears stiffly forward, her tail high, and glared at him. He quieted, ears and tail down, and tried to lick her muzzle.

Snow allowed it for a second, then moved away toward the hall, her posture and gait showing him that she was in hunting mode. Gavin followed her cautiously, trying to be as quiet, though it was hard with feet that were large and uncoordinated. The elder wolf permitted him to follow, only because making him stay would certainly make him whine piteously, and that would alert the intruder. And just then, he also heard the noise, and his friendly puppy face scowled, lips beginning to curl. Snow approved, but asked him for silence with a gentle mouthing of his muzzle.

The two wolves stalked the odd sound, tracking it to the back door. It was the weakest point in the house’s security, but whoever designed this place had assumed rightly that that tall fence and thorny bougainvilleas would discourage any burglar. This was no common thief, however. Snow and Gavin both smelled the strange vampire standing on the back porch, and the young wolf started to growl again. Snow grabbed his muzzle sharply, and he folded his ears back, lifting a paw in entreaty.

She released him, studying the vampire outside. He was fiddling with the door lock, and it was only a matter of time before he managed to force the mechanism. Snow wanted to prevent him from harming Ari, but she also wanted to make certain no one else tried such a stunt. Here was one time when she was glad of her human side. A pure wolf would not be able to plan, as she did now, and even her own son was nothing more than an intelligent wolf, at least until the Change at full maturity which would wake his human consciousness. But Snowdrift had been human more often than she really liked, and even when she walked on four paws her intellect was human as her instincts were always wolf. She saw how she could wreak havoc on the intruder, give him a very clear message about messing with the Master’s Lady, even if she was human, especially since she was Wolf-friend.

Snow trotted back up the hall, Gavin at her heels. At one point, it made a corner, and the light above was not on in daylight. The shadows at the floor level were quite deep, the pale sunlight unable to reach this far up the windowless hall. The white wolf nudged her son down, pressing her muzzle against his neck until he lay stretched in a pool of shadow. Then, admonishing him to stay with a firm glare over her shoulder, she hurried past him and hid herself in Arianne’s father’s room.

The lock clicked, and the vampire slid inside. His own keen nose would note the scent of werewolves, but he knew that Arianne had recently hosted Snowdrift’s litter of eight. Maybe he thought only the puppies were in residence, forgetting that wolves matured quickly and those eight charming balls of fluff were now almost eighty pounds each. It hardly mattered – the other seven were with Silvertip, Snow’s denmate, who had patiently raised her own four and then turned to the less gifted of Snow’s children, leaving the white wolf to concentrate on her precocious son Gavin. If only they and Silver were here, and perhaps Mondavi, father of both litters … but wishing for venison never brought down a deer. Only Snowdrift and her son were here to defend Ari, and Snow meant to do so in such fashion that no arrogant bloodsucker would ever dream of harming the young woman again.

The vampire was a total stranger to Snow. He smelled like what he was, of course, but neither scent nor sight had any familiarity for her. Sontheimer or one of his underlings would not have slunk in like an alley cat, either. This was definitely an intruder, and Snow could feel justified in whatever she did to him. She grinned wolfishly, her tongue hanging out, as she watched from under Everett’s bed.

The vampire proceeded cautiously past her and up to the corner of the hall. He had to know by now that Arianne was in the room beyond him, but the scented oil she used in there had hopefully left him nose-blind to the young wolf stretched out at his feet. Gavin lay stone still, displaying some sense for the first time in his short life, and Snow had time to be proud of him. Then the vampire took another step.

His foot caught Gavin’s chest squarely, and the puppy sprang up, unbalancing him, just as Snow had planned. Now she leaped from her hiding place, her furious battle-roar thundering over Gavin’s barks, hysterical with rage and pain. The vampire had landed on his rump, staring in astonishment at the big puppy barking and growling in his face, and then he apparently realized his danger and tried to right himself. Snow was on him then, teeth tearing his shoulder and leaping away, the wolfish style of fighting: snap, slash, and spring away. Gavin finally figured out what he was supposed to do, and his strong jaws clamped on the vampire’s leg as he tried to get away. One good tug, his neck and back strengthened by months of squabbling with the other pups over a chew toy, and her son had knocked the vampire down again.

Snowdrift leaped in again, teeth meeting in the vampire’s cheek, tearing out a hunk of flesh as she danced away. The white wolf tossed her head back and swallowed the morsel; one of the few ways a vampire could truly die was to be eaten by werewolves, and in Snow’s long life, she had devoured more than one. Sontheimer’s peace had curtailed the hunts and feasts of old, but the warrior still enjoyed the opportunity for a delicacy such as this.

The vampire snarled, and the scent of his fear was rich and sweet as blood. Gavin fought less gracefully than his mother, but his muzzle was stained red, and the light of killing joy burned in his eyes. His puppy yap had deepened to an adult growl as he fought, tearing at the vampire’s legs and stomach. The bloodsucker was at a terrible disadvantage lying on his back, and with the supernatural strength of his kind augmented by terror he managed to roll over, crouching low to the floor to protect his gut. Now he could bring his claws into play, and Snow felt four lines of burning cold rake her muzzle as he lashed at her.

Gavin smelled his mother’s blood, and something inside him snapped. Nearly roaring, he sprang to the vampire’s back and bit down savagely on the back of his neck. The vampire screamed, and Snow lunged in, aiming for his throat. Unfortunately, though werewolves were stronger and healed more quickly – Snow’s cuts had already vanished – vampires were faster. In less than an eyeblink the intruder brought his arm up to protect his throat, and Snow merely laid his flesh open to the bone.

Then the vampire stood up, throwing Gavin to the floor, and leaped over Snow faster than she could turn and lunge to bite him. With two wolves chasing him, he darted out the unlocked door and across the yard at phenomenal speed. He was gone before they could pull him down again, and Gavin raced along the fence barking furiously. Snowdrift was cooler, and she heard Ari calling weakly. Leaving her son to defend the fence, the white wolf went back inside.

The young witch stood in the hallway, hands braced against the walls to prevent her unsteady swaying. The growling and snarling and screaming had awakened her, but by the time she struggled out of bed, there was nothing to see but splashes of blood on the carpet. Looking down at the dark markings, her exhausted but frightened gaze met Snow’s and she murmured in a horrified tone, wondering if she was hallucinating, “Snow, what on earth… Snowy, that’s not blood, is it? … How?”

Snow looked at her, blue eyes scornful. Humans always refused to believe the evidence of their senses. Although, that bitter-smelling drug was still working on her, so perhaps leniency was in order. Coming forward, Snowdrift licked Ari’s hand softly, then delicately caught the young woman’s slender fingers in the same powerful jaws that had torn a vampire’s flesh moments ago. Fortunately, Ari was too stoned by NyQuil to notice the crimson stains on Snow’s muzzle, and followed the wolf’s gentle tugging. Snow led the witch back to bed and shoved her down onto it, then returned to the hall.

The carpet was a mess, and nothing she could deal with now. The walls were liberally splashed as well, but she remedied that with swipes of her rough tongue. Gavin joined her shortly, bouncing around excitedly until his mother wheeled and struck at him. What would have looked like a vicious bite to any observer was in reality just a wolf’s version of spanking; Snow curled her lip back and swung her head sideways, slapping Gavin’s haunch with the sides of her interlocked canine teeth. The big puppy settled down, and after watching Snow a few minutes, began licking the blood off the opposite wall.

When that task was done and their muzzles cleaned as well, Snow trotted into the kitchen for a big drink of water, then headed outside. Gavin followed at her heels, realizing that his mother had some purpose in mind but unable to guess it. Her growls kept him back as she sniffed carefully along the fence, covering every inch of it. At last she froze, and her hackles lifted. Gavin began to growl as the scent reached him; they’d come to the place where the vampire entered the yard. Every one of Snow’s white hairs stood on end, and her ears and tail were lifted aggressively high. Weaving back and forth past the spot, she growled steadily, and then suddenly lifted her leg, marking the place with her own scent. It was a sign of her own dominance and high rank in the pack that she had adopted the more traditionally male gesture.

Snow moved aside, and Gavin rushed in to mark it as well. He was just old enough to cock his leg, but young enough to nearly lose his balance in his effort to leave the highest mark possible. Snow returned and added an emphatic postscript to the scent-message, then trotted away to mark out the rest of the fence. Gavin helped, but in his enthusiasm soon ran dry.

When the perimeter smelled rather pungently of wolf, Snow went back inside, had another drink, and leaped to Ari’s bed again. This time, when Gavin placed a cautious paw on the counterpane, Snow sighed and closed her eyes. He scrambled awkwardly up, circling thrice, and lay down beside Ari. In moments, both wolves were asleep.

That was how Ari’s father found them, his heart in his throat after seeing the blood in the hall and the back door swinging open. Arianne, pale and lovely as any princess of fairytale or fable, lying deeply asleep between two great wolves, who would have looked more regal and fantastic if the gray one had not been snoring.

</div>

Another big ol' book post

anissa7118 — Thu, 03 Sep 2009 06:05:44 GMT

Back with more books!

54 / 100 books. 54% done!

1. Bag of Bones, by Stephen King
2. The Golden Compass, of the His Dark Materials trilogy, by Philip Pullman
3. Cry to Heaven, by Anne Rice
4. The Good Guy, by Dean Koontz
5. The Sands of Mars by Arthur C. Clarke
6. Duma Key by Stephen King
7. Watership Down by Richard Adams
8. The Intelligence of Dogs: Canine Consciousness and Capabilities by Stanley Coren
9. I Sing the Body Electric, by Ray Bradbury
10. Last Dance, Last Chance by Ann Rule
11. Dogs Who Found Me, by Ken Foster
12. Wolf Hunting by Jane Lindskold
13. Through Wolf's Eyes by Jane Lindskold
14. Wolf's Head, Wolf's Heart by Jane Lindskold
15. The Dragon of Despair by Jane Lindskold
16. Cry Wolf by Patricia Briggs
17. Aerie by Mercedes Lackey
18. Wolf Captured by Jane Lindskold
19. Wolf's Blood by Jane Lindskold
20. The Cat Who Dropped the Bomb by Lilian Jackson Braun
21. The Cat Who Had 60 Whiskers by Lilian Jackson Braun
22. Tommyknockers by Stephen King
23. For Bea: The Story of the Beagle Who Changed My Life by Kristen von Kreisler
24. Dead Until Dark by Charlaine Harris
25. Falconry for Beginners by Lee Harris
26. Equinox: Life, Love, and Birds of Prey by Dan O'Brien
27. A Wing in the Door by Peri Philips McQuay
28. Eagle Dreams by Stephen Bodio
29. "Mom, Jason's Breathing on Me!": The Solution to Sibling Bickering by Anthony Wolf
30. Spoken in Whispers: The Autobiography of a Horse Whisperer by Nicci Mackay
31. My Lead Dog Was A Lesbian: Mushing Across Alaska in the Iditarod--The World's Most Grueling Race by Brian Patrick O'Donoghue
32. Blue Diablo by Ann Aguirre
33. Building the Perfect PC by Robert Thompson and Barbara Fritchman Thompson
34. Hide This Spanish Book by Berlitz Publishing
35. Foundations by Mercedes Lackey
36. Moving Targets edited by Mercedes Lackey
37. Rites of Autumn: A Falconer's Journey Across the American West by Dan O'Brien
38. Buffalo for the Broken Heart: Restoring Life to a Black Hills Ranch by Dan O'Brien
39. The Dogs of Windcutter Down: One Shepherd's Struggle for Survival by David Kennard
40. The Daily Coyote: A Story of Love, Survival, and Trust in the Wilds of Wyoming by Shreve Stockton
41. Shadow Mountain: A Memoir of Wolves, a Woman, and the Wild by Renee Askins
42. Be the Pack Leader: Use Cesar's Way to Transform Your Dog ... And Your Life by Cesar Milan and Melissa Jo Peltier
43. The Queen Must Die and Other Affairs of Bees and Men by William Longwood and Pamela Johnson
44. The Horses of Proud Spirit by Melanie Sue Bowles
45. Hoof Prints: More Stories from Proud Spirit by Melanie Sue Bowles
46. The Last Hero: A Discworld Fable by Terry Pratchett and Paul Kidby

48. Three Among the Wolves: A Couple and Their Dog Live a Year with Wolves in the Wild by Helen Thayer

Another story where humans try to bridge the gap between themselves and the natural world with the help of a dog. In this case, the author is part of a married couple who study wolves, and the dog is Charlie, who has a little wolf in him. He protected Ms. Thayer from polar bears on her solo trek to the North Pole (btw, solo trek to the North Pole, with just your dog and a sled = SERIOUSLY BADASS), and in this book the Thayers follow his lead in trying to establish a bond of trust between themselves and wild, free-living wolves.

I was totally captivated throughout this book. Not only would I love to be able to camp for six months in the remote wilderness, with a wolf pack’s den a hundred yards from my tent, but I fell in love with Charlie. He’s clearly a lifetime dog, as in ‘once in a lifetime’. Interestingly, his owners do something that is frowned upon in most dog training circles: while in the wilderness, they allow him to function as their pack leader, and do everything possible to show the wolves that Charlie is indeed the alpha dog of their little family. Dog trainers tell you this is a recipe for disaster, but the owners firmly believe that the only way they could have gotten so close to the wolves and seen so much of their behavior was because of Charlie’s leadership. A fascinating story, and one that makes me want to grab my wolfiest dog and head up north.

49. Dogs of Dreamtime: A Story About Second Chances and the Power of Love by Karen Stanley

This book made me cry. I have no problems believing in lots of things other folks find questionable: ghosts, ESP, magick, reincarnation, et cetera. This woman had a lifetime dog (see above), Kiera, who passed away after a long life (but it’s never long enough for the owner – trust me). Some time later, she had very clear dreams about Kiera being reincarnated. She finally located the puppy she dreamed about, and brought her home, along with a littermate that was born deaf. Problems ensue … with the deaf dog, with another rescue dog, and finally with the reincarnated Keira. It’s a really moving story, and I wept for the idea of reincarnated pets, as well as for the troubles the author goes through with aggression problems in her dogs. There’s ultimately a happy ending for everyone, and more importantly, a satisfying ending.

50. Cesar’s Way: The Natural, Everyday Guide to Understanding and Correcting Common Dog Problems by Cesar Millan and Melissa Jo Peltier

I really don’t have much new to say about Cesar that I didn’t say in my last book meme entry: I’m still concerned over some of his techniques, but most of his advice does have merit and will be greatly appreciated by dog owners and their dogs. The gist of this book is that dogs are DOGS. Not little people in fur coats. Not child substitutes. Not toys. Not some blank slate on which you can project your own ideas of what you want in a companion. They are dogs, animals that have lived beside humans for at least 14,000 years, and we need to honor that partnership. It’s not all about our needs; they have needs too, and while they are perfectly willing to provide us all the unconditional love we could ask for, we need to give them the things they crave: exercise, guidance in navigating our human world, and a stable pack environment. Those things are as essential to their mental health as food, water, and shelter are for their physical health. To that extent, I can wholeheartedly agree with Cesar Millan.

51. City of Bone
52. City of Ashes
53. City of Glass
The Mortal Instruments Trilogy by Cassandra Clare

A coworker stuck the first of these in front of me. It’s a teen urban fantasy series with some nice cover art – I figured I’d read the first one to humor her. Besides, I was halfway through a fairly dry book, and I wanted something light to read at work. WHOA DAMN. This series grabbed me by the throat and sucked me in – I finished the trilogy in 3 days, and they’re sizeable books. The writing is great, the concept manages not to be cliché even in a very common genre, the characters are crisp and fully realized, and the plot pulled me along breathlessly, even though I saw some of the twists ahead of time. That’s the mark of a damn good writer – when you know what’s going to happen, and you keep reading anyway, just to see how she (or he) handles it.

There were a couple of times when I thought to myself, Oh Gods, please don’t let this become a typical angst-ridden teen love-triangle dramafest. But it never did. I cared about all the characters, even when they were doing stupid, thoughtless things, or hurting each other. Even those actions fit in with each character’s personality and motivation, so the conflicts never felt forced or faked. It was just very, very well done all around.

54. Orcs by Stan Nicholls

I like it when authors challenge themselves. Nicholls chose to take the fantasy race that is so often relegated to cannon fodder, and invent a complete history and culture for them. The characters in this book (it’s actually a trilogy bound into a single book) are well-drawn, and I found myself liking them sometimes in spite of themselves. It is a little technical at times, with so much world to build, but an enjoyable read on the whole.

I still have 6 more books on the list to be written up. 2 of them might not make it; I'm trying to vary the content a bit here. One I will definitely do in a post unto itself: Paganism: An Introduction to Earth-Centered Religions by River and Joyce Higginbotham. That book was AMAZING, and definitely recommended for anyone who wants to learn more about paganism.

Dog Training Post!

anissa7118 — Wed, 02 Sep 2009 06:04:34 GMT

Dusty learned 'sit' today! Well, he hasn't yet learned that it's called 'sit', but he's learned that if I offer him a treat, I won't let him take it until he sits. In one or two more training sessions I will teach him the command and the hand signal. This has not been easy for him - thanks to his conformation, he rarely sits voluntarily, and trying to lure him into a sitting position just got him to leap up! But we made the breakthrough tonight, and I am delighted.

Kala Bagel learned the sphinx down today, too! This is the form of lying down where the front part of the body touches the ground first, followed by the back end. If you teach 'down' from a 'sit' it doesn't look as pretty. The sphinx down is a little harder, but more elegant. I have to work with Kala on naming the behaviors, though. She was taught to sit, but never taught the word - she will sit when offered food, but if you just say 'sit' she's clueless. Now that she has two behaviors, I need to teach her the words so she knows what I'm asking for. Especially since I was standing up when I taught her 'sit' and kneeling down when I taught her 'down' - she has decided that my posture indicates what I want from her. Command words and hand signals will fix that.

According to Stanley Coren (author of The Intelligence of Dogs and How Dogs Think), terriers and hounds (such as beagles and bassets, which Dusty and Kala are) are among the least trainable of dogs. They are consistently outperformed in obedience tests by working and sporting breed dogs. I have to admit, my shepherd learned 'sit' in one session, including the command and hand signal. He took to training remarkably fast, and several years later if he wanted something, he would run through his entire repertoire of behaviors trying to elicit a reward. Dusty has taken five sessions, spaced out over a couple weeks, just to figure out that the 'sit' behavior is what I want, but now that he's 'learned how to learn' I expect further behaviors will be easier. Kala learned 'sit' in a few days, and it's taken about 3 sessions to get the sphinx down reliably (those were spread over weeks, though - she remembers very well, and I was lazy).

Mr. Coren is not saying that hounds and terriers are stupid, just that they are harder to train because they're not hard-wired to please humans. A beagle is much more focused on scents than on a human babbling commands, and therefore much more likely to fail an obedience test. A shepherd, though, bred for a century to be whatever its human handler wants it to be (guard dog, sheep dog, guide for the blind, police patrol dog, you name it, they do it), is far more responsive and more focused on the human.

In other words, while working and sporting breeds are smart on human terms, hounds and terriers are smart on their terms. Kala Bagel knows EXACTLY how cute she is, and how her mournful look can get attention, affection, and treats from her soft-hearted humans. She trained us. Dusty shows problem solving abilities in his daily quest to snarf food off the counter or table. They just aren't easy to train - not impossible, but not easy.

I learned most of what I know about dog training from a gentleman named Elwood C. Frantz, who ran AAA Dog Training in the late nineties. My German Shepherd, Casper, had just bitten a pastor (!), and I badly needed some help to make sure such a thing didn't happen again. Mr. Frantz was the first trainer in the phone book, and he offered private training. I knew I couldn't take my neurotic, dog-aggressive shepherd into a normal training class. (I said he was smart and trainable, not sane or safe. Casper was the most dangerous dog I've ever met - not to me, but to strangers - because he was so unpredictable.)

Anyway, what I learned was pure operant conditioning, aka clicker training. The fascinating thing for me at the time was that I could teach my dog all these things without touching him - without pulling the leash, without pressing his butt down to make him sit. No force, no fear, no fight. It was an epiphany to someone who had only ever seen the old leash-yanking methods used.

Basically, you can teach almost any dog almost anything if you have:

Patience,
Good timing,
High-valued rewards, and
PATIENCE

I've really needed patience with Dusty and his training, and it's paid off. If I had resorted to shoving him into position, I think he would a) resent training time instead of looking forward to it, and b) only sit when his butt was pressed down. Another dog of mine was like that - she believed the command was the touch on her rump, and ignored the word 'sit', since it had been said repeatedly to her before she knew the behavior, and therefore the word had no link to the action.

Dustin, the Psycho Dog

anissa7118 — Mon, 20 Jul 2009 06:22:52 GMT

So here's an update on Dustin, aka Dusty, aka Dustysauce, aka We Should Named Him Barkley.

He has some ... issues. He's hyperactive, to the point where we put him on herbal sedatives to chill him out. He likes to play, and play rough - unfortunately I enjoy playing the bitey game, so I'm the one getting bitten. Lois doesn't play that, so she has no issues. I'm chagrined to say that, dog whisperer or no, Lois is having better luck with him right now than I am.

I think I expect too much of him. I missed having a male in the house, and in a lot of ways, Dusty reminds me of my Casper. By the second day we had him, Dusty had attached himself to me to the point of separation anxiety. He doesn't like it when anyone leaves the house or closes a door between themselves and him, but he gets absolutely nutso when I leave. Howling, scratching, etc. The herbal sedatives are helping, as is my own program for dealing with separation anxiety. The point is, he's just as attached to me as Casper ever was.

All of that means I love him, painfully so, but he's driving us all a little batty as he learns what's expected of him in our house.

He is housetrained, thank the gods, but someone in his past taught him to use newspaper or puppy pads placed in the bathroom. If he can't get anyone to let him out, he'll go in the bathroom to do his business. Convenient, I guess, but we have to train him out of that.

Dusty's finally playing with my girls. I think they mostly like him, except Kala, who doesn't want her position as The Baby usurped. Whenever I go to snuggle Dustin, I get Kala in my face too, so I wind up with an armful of beagle. He's extremely playful, always willing to tug on a rope or chase a ball or just gnaw on a bone.

He's gained some weight, but not enough. I'm starting to wonder if he might be younger than we thought, and still growing. If so, he's at least a year old and won't get much taller, but he might get more burly.

Dusty has some cute behaviors. His particular physique - a streak of Basset Hound in his ancestry gives him a loooooong back and long neck with slightly shorter legs - means he can reach places the other dogs can't. He can stand upright on his hind feet to check out his reflection in the window (and howl at it). Also, when he wants something, Dusty smacks his lips - it's this funny little half-chewing motion that I find incredibly cute.

His vocalizations are funny, too. Dusty sounds almost asthmatic; his bay is hoarse, his bark rusty, and his pleading whine sounds like fingernails down a blackboard.

Training him looks like it'll be fun. He naturally has a sphinx down (where the front of the body lies down and then the back end follows; this is opposite of the down taught in a lot of classes, where the dog sits and then slides the forelegs forward into the down), but I've only ever seen him sit on his own once or twice. The usual method for teaching 'sit' doesn't work for him - trying to lure him with a treat held overhead just makes him leap upward. And for a short-legged dog, he has some serious spring to him. While Lois was lying on our bed, which is raised, Dusty jumped all the way up and over her to land beside me. When excited, he can jump to my eyeball height.

Our first big walk today was a rousing success. He has some leash manners, and he's friendly to everything - people and strange dogs.

OK, this is the end of the update. Back to writing.

100 Books in 2009

anissa7118 — Wed, 15 Jul 2009 06:32:03 GMT

So I'm totally doing this in batches rather than as I read them. Go figure. And this time around, like the last batch, you're gonna be able to tell which section of the library I was hanging out in.

46 / 100 books. 46% done!

1. Bag of Bones, by Stephen King
2. The Golden Compass, of the His Dark Materials trilogy, by Philip Pullman
3. Cry to Heaven, by Anne Rice
4. The Good Guy, by Dean Koontz
5. The Sands of Mars by Arthur C. Clarke
6. Duma Key by Stephen King
7. Watership Down by Richard Adams
8. The Intelligence of Dogs: Canine Consciousness and Capabilities by Stanley Coren
9. I Sing the Body Electric, by Ray Bradbury
10. Last Dance, Last Chance by Ann Rule
11. Dogs Who Found Me, by Ken Foster
12. Wolf Hunting by Jane Lindskold
13. Through Wolf's Eyes by Jane Lindskold
14. Wolf's Head, Wolf's Heart by Jane Lindskold
15. The Dragon of Despair by Jane Lindskold
16. Cry Wolf by Patricia Briggs
17. Aerie by Mercedes Lackey
18. Wolf Captured by Jane Lindskold
19. Wolf's Blood by Jane Lindskold
20. The Cat Who Dropped the Bomb by Lilian Jackson Braun
21. The Cat Who Had 60 Whiskers by Lilian Jackson Braun
22. Tommyknockers by Stephen King
23. For Bea: The Story of the Beagle Who Changed My Life by Kristen von Kreisler
24. Dead Until Dark by Charlaine Harris
25. Falconry for Beginners by Lee Harris
26. Equinox: Life, Love, and Birds of Prey by Dan O'Brien
27. A Wing in the Door by Peri Philips McQuay
28. Eagle Dreams by Stephen Bodio
29. "Mom, Jason's Breathing on Me!": The Solution to Sibling Bickering by Anthony Wolf
30. Spoken in Whispers: The Autobiography of a Horse Whisperer by Nicci Mackay
31. My Lead Dog Was A Lesbian: Mushing Across Alaska in the Iditarod--The World's Most Grueling Race by Brian Patrick O'Donoghue
32. Blue Diablo by Ann Aguirre
33. Building the Perfect PC by Robert Thompson and Barbara Fritchman Thompson
34. Hide This Spanish Book by Berlitz Publishing
35. Foundations by Mercedes Lackey
36. Moving Targets edited by Mercedes Lackey

37. Rites of Autumn: A Falconer's Journey Across the American West by Dan O'Brien
38. Buffalo for the Broken Heart: Restoring Life to a Black Hills Ranch by Dan O'Brien

I really like this author (even if he has a mad love affair with subtitles). He's a thoughtful, intelligent man pondering the meaning of life and of our connection to the world around us. But he's not doing this while sitting on a sofa somewhere - he's doing it while taking a peregrine falcon on a thousand-mile road trip that mimics her natural migration, and while bringing buffalo back to his own little section of the prairie. I highly recommend both books, even if you know nothing about falconry or ranching. A warning, though: the end of Rites of Autumn will make you weep, and by the end of Buffalo for the Broken Heart you will crave a buffalo steak as badly as I did.

39. The Dogs of Windcutter Down: One Shepherd's Struggle for Survival by David Kennard

How in the heck does anyone keep a family farm going these days? Well, if you're the Kennards, you wind up showcasing your dogs' working abilities. A low-key but well-written book about trying to live a lifestyle that the rest of the world seems to be leaving behind ... and it has working Border Collies.

40. The Daily Coyote: A Story of Love, Survival, and Trust in the Wilds of Wyoming by Shreve Stockton

Shreve Stockton follows her instincts. While on a cross-country drive, this dedicated city girl stopped in Wyoming just long enough to fall in love with the place, and soon moved to a small town there. One of the first people she befriended had the task of controlling the areas coyotes, which when wild predators face off against livestock ranchers, generally means killing the coyotes. But not this time. For some reason, her partner-slash-love interest brought Shreve the tiny coyote puppy. The book chronicles Charlie the coyote's life as well as his owner's, and has some deep insights into the meaning of wildness and the ways that people can reconnect with each other and with animals both wild and tame.

41. Shadow Mountain: A Memoir of Wolves, a Woman, and the Wild by Renee Askins

This book is by the woman who crusaded for the return of the wolf to Yellowstone National Park. It's also a moving, lyrical, almost dreamlike meditation on the author's connection with the wild. Yes, I read a lot of those. I'm a frustrated suburbanite who's only ever been truly at home in the middle of the mountains, so cut me some slack. Anyway, while the parts dealing with the politics were a little dry, the book overall is lovely and thought-provoking.

42. Be the Pack Leader: Use Cesar's Way to Transform Your Dog ... And Your Life by Cesar Milan and Melissa Jo Peltier

I admit that, until I picked up this book, I only knew two things about Cesar Milan: what the current popular dog trainers were saying about him, and what I saw on the National Geographic show The Dog Whisperer. I was not terribly impressed. The positive-only training camp is horrified by his use of dominance techniques, and the TV show only films the most dramatic moments.

But then some bloggers whose opinions I heartily respect started to endorse him, and I figured that I had better go read the books Cesar actually wrote about his methods before I judged anything. Well, I have to say that while I still have some reservations - I particularly dislike his preference for the flooding technique to deal with phobias, rather than the more gradual desensitization technique - I do believe that his philosophies are tremendously useful. Dogs in this country NEED exercise, they NEED rules & boundaries, and only THEN do they need affection. As a matter of fact, a lot of kids I know could benefit from Cesar's way...

I still say that for the average 'joe schmoe' on the street, trying to use dominance methods is dangerous - you cannot bluff a dog. If you're not 100% committed to a course of action, they will know and they will exploit it. trust me, my own new dog Dusty is perfectly aware that I don't *really* want him to stop play-biting me, and so he won't quit doing it. But Cesar is helping dogs and helping people. He says flat-out that he's not a dog trainer, he specifically rehabilitates dogs. And he has lots of experience working with highly aggressive large-breed dogs, so his opinion must be respected.

Bottom line: if you want to learn more about dogs (or anything else in this world), don't trust a single source. Seek differing opinions, read as much as you can, give more weight to the knowledge possessed by people with actual real-world experience of what you're learning about (as opposed to theoreticians, arm-chair philosophers, and lab researchers). And in the end, go to the source. The way I ultimately evaluated this book was to try its advice out on my own dogs, and so far, it's worked very well.

43. The Queen Must Die and Other Affairs of Bees and Men by William Longwood and Pamela Johnson

Who knew so much insight could be packed into a book about bees? I was fascinated from start to finish. Even if you don't like bees or know nothing about them besides that they sting, read this. It's a classic of the genre and a very well-written story, besides. It never succumbs to pedantism, but it never flies too far off into mystical contemplations either.

44. The Horses of Proud Spirit by Melanie Sue Bowles
45. Hoof Prints: More Stories from Proud Spirit by Melanie Sue Bowles

So, have you guessed which section of the library I hang out in yet? Anyway, these two books chronicle the author's involvement in horse rescue, all of it begun by her completely inadvisable purchase of a horse with some issues. She never gave up on that mare, and never gave up on all the other horses she rescued. The stories are heart-wrenching, especially when the horse in question dies, but there are plenty of happy endings, too.

46. The Last Hero: A Discworld Fable by Terry Pratchett and Paul Kidby

My favorite author, Pratchett, gave his slavering fans a Cohen the Barbarian story fully illustrated by the amazing Paul Kidby. I drooled. I'd heard this was more an art book, but the story was pretty darned fantastic too. Can't wait for the next book to come out. If you like satire and a light-hearted look at the fantasy genre, read Pratchett.

That's all for now - I have at least ten more to do, but it's getting late.

About Pitbulls...

anissa7118 — Mon, 06 Jul 2009 07:18:15 GMT

These three links plus embedded video (yoinked from Smartdogs Weblog and posted here for its cuteness) pretty much sum up my thinking on breed-specific legislation and the vilification of pit bulls. Plus, if you like dogs, the three blogs are made of awesomeness. Not saying I agree 100% with any of the authors, just that they are all knowledge, experienced dog people whose opinions are worth considering.

Links all take you to stories about a Sioux City, Iowa city councilman who supported a ban against ALL pitbulls on the assumption that they are vicious, dangerous dogs ... yet he wants an exception for his own Labrador Retriever, which attacked an innocent passerby. The dog was loose on the front porch in violation of existing leash laws.

The actual news story from the Sioux City Journal

Smartdogs Weblog: Labradors Are Not for Dummies

Terrierman's Daily Dose: It's Time to Kill This Man's Dog!

Raised By Wolves: Vicious and Dangerous

I am not a professional dog trainer. I've just lived with dogs since I was in the womb, and I'm a reasonably intelligent person not under the delusion that dogs are just biological machines responding to stimuli, or that they are small furry people who don't speak our language. They are DOGS, a species apart from us but similar enough that we can develop an understanding with each other. As a dog lover, I can say with absolute and total certainty the following things:

No dog is 'born vicious'.

No breed so similar to each other that they are ALL vicious - or all friendly.

All dogs have teeth and the physically ability to close their jaws on some portion of your anatomy, causing pain. In other words, all dogs CAN bite.

All dogs, in the right circumstances, WILL bite. I guarantee you, every dog has a limit - no matter how patient, how laid-back, they are, every dog has at least one situation in which it will bite you. That may be when the dog is injured and in pain, when it's been teased or harassed beyond its tolerance, or any of a dozen other reasons.

I know what would make my own dogs bite. Vixen would eventually bite out of fear if she was restrained and roughly handled. Anita would have to be in extreme pain to bite - this is a dog who lets me lift her into the air by her feet. Kala would bite accidentally if her hunting instincts were roused and she was playing rough - she's not always great about differentiating between the toy and the hand that holds it.

In closing, a video of one of those vicious, unpredictable, totally dangerous pitbulls. *cough, cough BULLSHIT cough*

HOME AT LAST!

anissa7118 — Sun, 05 Jul 2009 01:07:46 GMT

He's home! Dustin (yes, that's the name we settled on) is a sweet boy, a little bit shy. Very attached to me already - if I close a door between me and him, he claws it open. Gotta work on that.

Dustin's life has changed so much over the past month - he had a home at one point, then he was running loose in the woods, then he was in the shelter, then Mysa adopted him, and now he's in my house. He is the smallest of all my dogs - the shortest, too, at about an inch shorter than Kala. And his pictures didn't show it too well, but he's definitely part Basset Hound. Not related to my Kala, then - she's Beagle with a dash of Foxhound, if anything.

Picspam time!

"Hey, new brother, whatcha doin?" "Claimin' this here yard fer the dogs of Georgia."

The look of existential dread on Dustin's face there? That's the realization that we've brought him to a land of giant feminist bitches. They're all bigger than him, and they're all more dominant than him. Even Anita, low dog on our totem pole, stood over him wagging in triumph. Poor boy. He'll adjust.

"Welcome to our home, Dustin. This is the neighbors' yard, and those puffy little yapping things are actually dogs. It's sad, isn't it?"

So then we went to the Joos' house. Any time you photograph beagles, you get a lot of shots of them sniffing.

What a happy smile! Yes, he is kinda skinny, but he's gaining weight and loving life.

Kala on the left, Dustin on the right. Happy dogs!

I'm sure there will be more pics soon.

Update: Dustin is feeling more comfortable in my house. I know this because he's trying to find the boundaries of acceptable behavior. He tried (unsuccessfully) to push Kala out of her bed, and we had a little confrontation when he jumped on my bed. I treated his sore pads - which he didn't like much - and then he resisted when I told him to get down. I even got a tiny growl. I picked him up and put him on the floor, where he's now sleeping happily.

I am one of those people who believes in the value of dominance, but also in using the least force to get a result. So I tend to use dominance only to enforce rules and instill manners. Besides, positive-based training works much better and faster for training behaviors.

ETA: OMFG, he has gas! ICK! That is some horrible, horrible stench. Hopefully his digestive system will settle down soon.

Real soon. Urgh.

Oh Gods, Not Another Dog Post

anissa7118 — Fri, 03 Jul 2009 09:38:20 GMT

Sorry. Couldn't resist. I took some new pics of the girls today. They KNOW something is about to happen. Poor girls, I'm about to rock their pack dynamic - though Milo (soon to be Jason) is supposedly a very mellow boy and may not shake things up too much.

Anyway, here are the ladies. Refer back to the pics of Milo in my last puppy picspam post to see if he and Kala really do resemble each other, or if I'm just nuts.

Vixen makes her feelings clear

Kala's advice for life.

SQUIRREL?!?! SQUIRREL!!! GIMME!!!

Bagel with ball. She looks a lot like a show beagle in this shot.

Nice portrait of Kala Bagel

Scenthound. It's not just a job, nor even a lifestyle - it's what she is. The nose rules all, and very little can distract her when she's scenting.

Vixen finally smiles for the camera. How about Anita?

Oh Gods! Never mind, Skeet, don't smile! Don't smile!

More photos!

anissa7118 — Thu, 02 Jul 2009 03:46:24 GMT

Yup, that's him in the user pic. And here's some more photos, thanks to Melissa.

Don't worry, he was shooed off the bed right after this photo op. Another shot where he looks a LOT like Kala Bagel.

What a silly boy!

Watching TV.

Mysa's cat, Morrigan, wants to know why he gets canned food.

YAY ROPE TOY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

In other news, we're thinking about changing this boy's name. Milo is the name of my mom's neighbor's yappy, insane Chihuahua. I have nothing against Chihuahuas, but this one is a holy terror. He barks CONSTANTLY. Lois also dislikes the name Milo - it sounds kinda country. True, he does come from a rural county - Kala's name was originally Gidget. GIDGET.

Anyway, my other dogs are as follows:
Vixen Sionnach (aka Fox, Foxy, Fox-Fox, Foxes, Ushakai, Ush, Ushy-squoosh, and Fluffy Butt)
Anita (aka Anita-Mosquita, Skeeter, Skeet, Skeez, Sleazy Skeez, Sleazer, and OMFG YOU REEK)
Kala Bagel (aka Kal, Ka-Kal, Kallie, Bagel Brat, Brat, Brat-Brat, Bratty Butt, and Bagel Bites)

Milo just doesn't fit in that series, to my mind. So I need to give Milo a new name. Hmm. What do you think of calling him Jason Garen? Or Sebastian? Or maybe something completely different. I will really have to meet him before I know, but a couple of the pics above seem to argue for Jason, if only so his nickname can be Dopey.

Writer's Block: Conversion Rate

anissa7118 — Thu, 18 Jun 2009 01:12:39 GMT

No. I intend to die a witch and never be swayed from my chosen faith. There is no other religion in existence which so perfectly agrees with my own beliefs. Not only that, but I prefer the individual freedom and mutual respect I've found in this "disorganized" religion. Witchcraft has no dogma, no absolute hierarchy, and is one of the religions that charismatic individuals find difficult to abuse for their personal agendas.

I already converted from the religion I was raised in, and like a lot of converts I was originally very fervent in my belief. For a while, I was *almost* that witch with the "Christians: can't live with 'em, can't feed 'em to the lions anymore" bumper sticker. Luckily I never got quite that extreme and inflexible in my attitudes. Later on, I grew more comfortable in my faith and more mature as a person, which toned down my aggressive reactions to people who practiced certain other religions. Now some of my closest friends are devout Christians. Go figure.

Over time, I've maintained my faith, though I'm not as active in it as I once was. The Neo-Pagan community in my area has a core group of very active members, all of whom I used to practice with ... and one of their leaders is my ex's mom. I don't want to cause drama, so I avoid meetings. Plus, my working hours conflict with the mainly Friday-night rituals of the local groups. Trying to practice solitary has been difficult, so I guess this makes me a lapsed witch the way I used to be a lapsed Catholic?

The one thing that strengthens my faith most is challenge. I had a fundamentalist Christian coworker - one of the ones who gives all fundies a bad name. She felt the need to, as soon as I arrived at work, lean into my personal space and bounce her cross off my pentacle. That resulted in me wearing my pentacle every day where I used to only wear it on special occasions, and insisting that I be allowed to take pagan holidays off. I had to threaten legal action, but I got Samhain off every year. I grew a lot stronger in my faith when it was challenged daily. Maybe I can get my boss to hire another person like her...

A Year's Worth of Superman Movieverse Fanfiction

anissa7118 — Tue, 02 Jun 2009 05:18:07 GMT

Fics by Lois and Anissa (kalalanekent and anissa7118 ) that are eligible for the 2009 SMVA (posted here because the list is too long for a comment)

Separated by 'verse, posted in approximate story order. Current word count follows each title - this figure includes the author notes on fanfiction.net. The links below all go to FFN unless otherwise specified. If you'd rather read on LiveJournal, go to our fic index. You can also visit our author page on FFN if you like.

Superman Returns canon:

Worth a Million Words 2,201 words

Little Secrets/Heirs to the House of El (Reeverse, SR verse AU):

Snapshots: Light Up the Sky 3,838 words

Snapshots: All I Want for Christmas 6,899 words

LS Postscript: The More Things Change 5,454 words

Before the Clock Strikes Twelve 1,158 words

An Echo of Legend 3,919 words

Unfamiliar (NSFW!) 11,368 words

The Perils of Popularity 954 words

A Small Matter of Some Gravity 2,226 words

Jason Kent and the Creature from the Deep 2,998 words

Of Pancakes and Early Mornings 5,736 words

Heirs to the House of El (chapter index post on LJ) 165,623 words

Note on Original Characters: In this 'verse, Kala won Best OC in 2006. I believe she may be eligible to be nominated again, but for fairness' sake, I would prefer that you not nominate any of the young Kala fics, as that version of Kala has already won an award. By the time of LS: Of Pancakes and Early Mornings and Heirs to the House of El, her character has changed enough for me to feel comfortable with her teenage incarnation being nominated.

Also, the following characters featured in the above stories are not OCs. Sam Lane, Elinore Lane, Lucy Lane, Ron Troupe, Margaret Sawyer, Jamie Sawyer, Tobie Raines, Cat Grant, and Mercy Graves are all drawn from Superman comics and are ineligible for this award. (Not all of our readers also read comics, and there's been some confusion in conversation).

In Another Lifetime 'verse (Superman the Movie):

Whatever It Takes 9,430 words

Before It's Too Late 5,687 words

It Ends Tonight 7,675 words

For a Moment 7,317 words

Until the End 7,599 words

So Close 'verse (Reeveverse):

Thanks for the Memories 6,689 words

That's all of it. Happy reading, and remember, if you enjoy an author's Superman movieverse fanfiction, NOMINATE THEM. It doesn't matter if they're not one of 'popular' authors with a lot of fans. Nominating someone for an award is a great way to 1) show them you really, really like their work, 2) get them some more exposure, as many voters will read nominated fics, 3) share your favorites with people who are looking for something great to read, and 4) give those popular writers a challenge. Speaking as someone whose work has won a significant number of awards the last two years, I welcome competition! More of us working in this fandom means more creativity and inspiration.

Catch-up Book Meme

anissa7118 — Sat, 23 May 2009 06:05:01 GMT

36 / 100 books. 36% done!

1. Bag of Bones, by Stephen King
2. The Golden Compass, of the His Dark Materials trilogy, by Philip Pullman
3. Cry to Heaven, by Anne Rice
4. The Good Guy, by Dean Koontz
5. The Sands of Mars by Arthur C. Clarke
6. Duma Key by Stephen King
7. Watership Down by Richard Adams
8. The Intelligence of Dogs: Canine Consciousness and Capabilities by Stanley Coren
9. I Sing the Body Electric, by Ray Bradbury
10. Last Dance, Last Chance by Ann Rule
11. Dogs Who Found Me, by Ken Foster
12. Wolf Hunting by Jane Lindskold
13. Through Wolf's Eyes by Jane Lindskold
14. Wolf's Head, Wolf's Heart by Jane Lindskold
15. The Dragon of Despair by Jane Lindskold
16. Cry Wolf by Patricia Briggs
17. Aerie by Mercedes Lackey

18. Wolf Captured by Jane Lindskold
19. Wolf's Blood by Jane Lindskold

I finished the series, and loved them. The main characters grow and change throughout the series, but never so much that they become unrecognizable. New characters and settings enhance interest. The books do get a little talky as time goes on, but that didn't significantly detract from my reading experience. I will definitely buy the next one if Lindskold continues the series, though I suspect she may not.

20. The Cat Who Dropped the Bomb by Lilian Jackson Braun
21. The Cat Who Had 60 Whiskers by Lilian Jackson Braun

This is a series I've followed since I discovered it in my youth (thank you, Mystery Book Club), and I've enjoyed almost all of the books. There are a LOT of them - I don't have a total number handy, but it's at least twenty. The last few books have gradually moved away from the original focus - Qwill and his smart cat, solving crimes (often murders). As Braun has expanded on her setting of Moose County and the secondary characters found there, the books have become more about the place than the events. These two both felt more like a visit with well-known (if eccentric) relatives than murder mysteries. I might have stuck with the series, but Braun does something in The Cat Who Had 60 Whiskers that infuriated me. Without going into details, I'll describe it as an act of character assassination, followed by one of the most ham-handed character substitutions I've ever read. I was shocked and appalled, and if this weren't a library book, I would've thrown it across the room.

22. Tommyknockers by Stephen King

King is a reliable favorite. This book is quite long, and contains a lot of information about Haven, Maine and its residents that isn't strictly necessary for the plot. Still, it's an enjoyable ramble - I never get bored, and for its anecdotes, it's an easy book to pick up on a rainy day and read just a couple chapters. Not your usual UFO story.

23. For Bea: The Story of the Beagle Who Changed My Life by Kristen von Kreisler

Did you know that the most common breed of dog used in research labs is the beagle? They're a convenient size and even-tempered - commercial breeders have developed specific lines of these dogs just for scientific use. This is the story of one of those beagles who escaped, and the family who took her in. While at times my inner dog trainer wanted to *headdesk*, and the story's message is delivered with the loud THUD of dropping anvils, it is still a moving, affectionate portrait of a dog and her people.

24. Dead Until Dark by Charlaine Harris

With all the fuss over True Blood, I had to check out the source material. The show failed to hold my attention - the accents? Anna Paquin's blonde hair? I dunno, something didn't click - but the book did. While not my favorite vampire story, this was a fun read. I'm undecided on whether to continue with the series or not - intrigued, but not willing to commit quite yet.

25. Falconry for Beginners by Lee Harris

Falconry is one of the oldest sports, and I've loved it ever since I saw my first Harris hawk fly to a lure at a Renaissance faire. I wandered down the right aisle at our Main Library and stumbled onto a treasure trove of books on the subject. This one I picked up just to give me the basics of the sport. It pertains mostly to falconry in the United Kingdom, but the terminology is the same world-wide, and the sport hasn't changed much in 4,000 or so years.

A word on me and hunting: done right, hunting is sacred. Hunting is not killing; the man who kills hundreds of steers at the slaughterhouse did not hunt them, but the man who spends the day in the woods, watching a promising trail but not succeeding in killing a deer, has hunted them nonetheless. Hunting can be a communion with the wild, a part of ourselves that so many of us have lost. Who, reading this, has seen a wild fox cross the trail ahead of you at sunset, or stepped gingerly past the warning buzz of a rattlesnake? Who has crept through thorny underbrush for a peek at a doe and her fawn, or watched the surface of a stream ripple where trout rise to catch mayflies? Very few of us, anymore - we're all focused on our 9-to-5 jobs under fluorescent lights, planning our 'activities' for maximum enrichment, and never just wandering in appreciation of nature. I believe that hunting can help bring us out of this disastrous mindset, remind us that we're part of a larger world where everything - from the tiniest microbes in the soil up to the biggest black bear or cougar - is interconnected and interdependent. Falconry is a form of hunting that all but forces you into that recognition; hawks have minds and moods of their own, and the falconer must pay attention to his bird and his surroundings if he wishes to succeed at all.

26. Equinox: Life, Love, and Birds of Prey by Dan O'Brien

READ THIS. No, really. This was bittersweet and beautiful, the story of man who almost fell into the trap of making hunting a numbers game - "how many can I catch?" instead of appreciating the day. He paid for that delusion, and tells his story unflinchingly. There's no happy ending, no sense that now that he's learned his lesson, his mistakes will be erased. He has a fantastic falcon, an ephemeral and wondrous connection to this bird, and when he begins to prostitute that in pursuit of more and more self-serving goals, he loses her. His loss, and his lesson, echo through the end of the book. O'Brien does not try to sugarcoat his mistake, and that makes his conclusions all the more powerful.

27. A Wing in the Door by Peri Philips McQuay

This is the story of Merak, a red-tailed hawk who was taken from the wild as a eyas (unfledged baby) and hand-reared by a would-be falconer. She was confiscated and released on government-protected land near the home of the author and her family, who quickly discovered that Merak is human-imprinted. That means she believes herself to be human, treats humans as her parents, and will never be able to be completely wild. The family allows her to live free on their property, offering her supplemental food as well as companionship. While the author draws some conclusions I disagree with, this is mostly a portrait of a remarkable raptor and the humans who became her family. The style is a little diskointed, but that did not detract from my overall enjoyment.

28. Eagle Dreams by Stephen Bodio

The last of the falconry books I checked out, this one details the author's fascination with Kazakh falconers who fly eagles. Fox, wolf, even antelope can be hunted with eagles, and these birds are unlike any other in the world of falconry. First, they're HUGE, and second, they can live for 30 or 40 years in the wild. More than just a story about falconry, this one also contains a portrait of a part of the world most Americans have never seen. Mongolia casts a spell on the author's heart, and reading this book, I fell in love with it too. My only complaint is that it should've been about twice as long - if Bodio makes another trip to Mongolia, I want a sequel! (P.S. to Lois: In Mongolia, Stolichnaya is CHEAP and American Smirnoff is the expensive brand everyone wants to be seen drinking. I LOLed.)

29. "Mom, Jason's Breathing on Me!": The Solution to Sibling Bickering by Anthony Wolf

With this title, I couldn't pass it up. Written in an easy, conversational style, it caught my attention. Some points are made redundantly, but apparently they differ so much from what parents expect to hear that they must be repeated. I was highly amused to discover that the gist of the author's advice on sibling rivalry parallels my own stance on squabbling among my dogs: don't get involved. I know from experience that if I get in the middle of my dogs' arguments, it only makes things worse. If I let them sort it out on their own, the situation usually resolves with no bloodshed. The only times I intervene are when I see blood or when I can't stand it anymore, and then I come down impartially to separate the offenders. Which is pretty much what Wolf says here. A thought-provoking read for anyone with kids.

30. Spoken in Whispers: The Autobiography of a Horse Whisperer by Nicci Mackay

I will not definitively say whether I believe the author communicates telepathically with horses. Let me just say that I believe there's a lot more going on in this world than I know about. Whether you accept the premise or not, the anecdotes in this book are worth reading. Mackay's life with horses is fascinating to someone who is wildly horse-obsessed, but unable to spend much time around them.

31. My Lead Dog Was A Lesbian: Mushing Across Alaska in the Iditarod--The World's Most Grueling Race by Brian Patrick O'Donoghue

This reporter began the 1991 Iditarod in first place, but finished last. Along the way, he learned a great deal about Alaska, dog sledding, the competition and cooperation between mushers, and how cold it can REALLY get. Plus, with a title like that, how could I resist? This book really brought the Iditarod to life for me. Like falconry, dog sledding is a sport where humans must develop a true partnership with animals in order to succeed.

32. Blue Diablo by Ann Aguirre

This novel was advertised by one of my favorite blogs, www.smartbitchestrashybooks.com. I don't read romance novels, but they do, with a witty style that's left me laughing til I weep. The Cover Snark is especially hilarious. Anyway, this book was advertised as being Patricia Briggs' favorite. Hmm, great blog plus awesome author? I had to check it out. This is an urban fantasy novel - the main character is a handler, who receives images from objects she touches. The narrative was well-written and engaging, and left me wanting more. While the main story arc is satisfyingly fulfilled at the end, there's definitely hints of a sequel, and room for more backstory on the main character and her love interest. I will buy the next one as soon as it comes out, and maybe even check out more of Aguirre's work.

33. Building the Perfect PC by Robert Thompson and Barbara Fritchman Thompson

This book inspired me to build my next PC. It gives a lot of useful information and boosted my confidence. If you're thinking about building a custom PC or just want to know more about the innards of the one you have, read this.

34. Hide This Spanish Book by Berlitz Publishing

An excellent research reference for Spanish slang. It reminds me of a lovely French book I own called Merde! which was written by Genevieve. Both have a no-holds-barred approach to the way the language is actually spoken, including (but not limited to) profanity. You may thank this volume for some of Sebast's insults and affectionate nicknames in Heirs.

35. Foundations by Mercedes Lackey

I think you all know I love this author. If I found myself stranded on a desert island, with the collected works of Mercedes Lackey, Stephen King, Dean Koontz, Patricia Cornwell, and Susan Conant, I could be content. Lackey has built a unique world in Valdemar and attained a well-deserved following. This novel is the beginning of another trilogy. It could be said to follow Lackey's Valdemar formula, seen in several trilogies and stand-alone novels: disadvantaged/abused kid meets OMG magical horse! *ahem* Companion, and gradually becomes very, very important to the kingdom while learning to control potentially dangerous powers and facing various threats. However, Foundations explores a new type of background (child miner), a new power (MindSpeech, which has never been covered in depth before), and a new time period (the founding of the Herald's Collegium). This first novel in the series was a satisfying read on its own, but left me hankering for more. Also, I felt that the supporting cast was not as well-developed as is usual in Lackey's work, but that may be because I normally read her series together, without the large span of time between publishing dates.

36. Moving Targets edited by Mercedes Lackey

When an author puts a lot of time and creativity into developing a world, it must be an interesting experience to let other people play in it. Lackey has edited four anthologies based in her Valdemar (and neighboring countries), so she must enjoy it. She's a coauthor on several stories in the past anthologies, and has a new story with her husband in this one. It's the title story, and I was annoyed halfway through to realize I was reading an homage to Scooby Doo, of all things, but on its own merits the story did well. The rest of the tales in the anthology were fascinating, taken from a cross section of time periods and cultures within Lackey's world.

Whew! Okay folks, I'm basically caught up now. I'm sure there are a few more books that I read and forgot to note here, but that'll be okay.

100 Books in 2009 Challenge

anissa7118 — Mon, 09 Mar 2009 22:06:36 GMT

17 / 100 books. 17% done!

1. Bag of Bones, by Stephen King
2. The Golden Compass, of the His Dark Materials trilogy, by Philip Pullman
3. Cry to Heaven, by Anne Rice
4. The Good Guy, by Dean Koontz
5. The Sands of Mars by Arthur C. Clarke
6. Duma Key by Stephen King
7. Watership Down by Richard Adams
8. The Intelligence of Dogs: Canine Consciousness and Capabilities by Stanley Coren

9. I Sing the Body Electric, by Ray Bradbury

This was another of my flea-market purchases. Oddly, I didn't get into most of the stories within. The title story was strangely affecting, but hard to put into words. The one tale that got to me the most was Henry the Eighth, about a time in the future when the entire population of the British Isles had moved to warmer climes ... except for one man, who remained behind and took upon himself the burden of representing everything that England was. That kind of fierce love for a place and its history struck a chord in me.

10. Last Dance, Last Chance by Ann Rule

Lois owns it. I just borrowed it. We collect a lot of true-crime books, specifically Ann Rule. This is one of her books wherein she has a long story, novella length, and then some short accounts after it. In this case, the long story is about Dr. Anthony Pignatarro and his wife, Debbie, whom he poisoned with arsenic. The depths to which people will sink never fail to fascinate and horrify me - and sometimes to provide details for later use in writing.

11. Dogs Who Found Me, by Ken Foster

This guy has about the world's worst luck. He was living in New York City with his rescued Great Dane/pit bull mix, Brando, in 2001. They survived the 9/11 attacks and their aftermath, later moving to Florida and then New Orleans. Yup, he was in New Orleans for Hurricane Katrina, this time with three dogs - Brando, Zephyr, a Rottie, and Sula, a pit bull. And then after he'd gone through all that, his heart stopped working and he had to have a pacemaker installed. Yet the book itself manages to be about the dogs, how Foster rescues them and they in turn rescue him, full of wit and humor and stories about dogs. Of course I love it.

12. Wolf Hunting by Jane Lindskold
13. Through Wolf's Eyes by Jane Lindskold
14. Wolf's Head, Wolf's Heart by Jane Lindskold
15. The Dragon of Despair by Jane Lindskold

These are part of a series - I actually read the fifth book, Wolf Hunting, first, because I got it at the flea market. Twenty pages in, I was hooked, and I quickly went to my local used bookstore and snatched up the rest of the series. They can stand alone, but are beautiful read in series - you become absorbed in the continuing tale. The story follows a girl who was raised by intelligent Royal Wolves. I pretty much went nuts over these - the series is incredible. Read it if you like fantasy, if you like wolves, if you just like good writing.

16. Cry Wolf by Patricia Briggs

I went into the bookstore looking for the newest Mercy Thompson book by this author (I own the previous three, Moon Called, Blood Bound, and Iron Kissed, all fantastic reads). I found Bone Crossed, but it was in hardback, and I am a cheap person - I'll wait for paperback. While browsing to see if it was out in paperback yet, I found this one. It's set in the same world of werewolves, skinwalkers, vampires, and fae, and features the same supporting cast, but Mercy isn't in it. Instead we meet Anna, who as a character seemed to lack Mercy's verve and fire. Eventually I realized that this was because the Mercy books are written in first person; we see every snarky thing that crosses her mind. Cry Wolf is third person, and it's still a good read, if not as indescribably fantastic as the Mercy books. Incidentally, if you liked Laurell K. Hamilton's Anita Blake books before they turned into character-assassinating softcore porn, and miss a kick-ass heroine who deals with supernatural critters, go find a Mercy Thompson book and read it.

17. Aerie by Mercedes Lackey

While looking for Bone Crossed, I discovered that Lackey has a new Valdemar book out - again, in hardcover. *pouts* I went to see if Foundations was in paperback yet, and it was not, but they did have this book, which is the conclusion of the dragon jousters' series. Lots of fantasy writers have handled dragons, but Lackey's take manages to be unique. This concluding volume seemed to skip a signifcant portion of time between the last book and this one, and I floundered a bit before getting my bearings. If you like dragons, I'd suggest you start with the first book in the series, Joust, and follow up with the sequels Alta and Sanctuary. These books combine Egyptian-esque mythology and history with dragons, magic, and a host of Lackey's other pet interests (she manages to work falconry into it, one of her passions).

100 Books Challenge

anissa7118 — Mon, 02 Feb 2009 03:44:42 GMT

8 / 100 books. 8% done!

1. Bag of Bones, by Stephen King
2. The Golden Compass, of the His Dark Materials trilogy, by Philip Pullman
3. Cry to Heaven, by Anne Rice
4. The Good Guy, by Dean Koontz
5. The Sands of Mars by Arthur C. Clarke
6. Duma Key by Stephen King
7. Watership Down by Richard Adams

8. The Intelligence of Dogs: Canine Consciousness and Capabilities by Stanley Coren

And nonfiction makes it onto the list! This was published in 1994, so it contains some theories about the evolution of dogs that have since been challenged, but it's still full of useful information. One of the important things mentioned is the way science currently downplays the notion of animals having consciousness or emotions or reasoning capability, yet these same strict behaviorists who cry out against anthropomorphizing go home to their own pets and ascribe those same emotions and desires to them. When the dog gets out its leash and brings it to them, they say to themselves, "Oh, the dog wants to go for a walk."

Scientists can theorize about an animal's mind or lack thereof all day. The fact is, if you work with animals, you have to acknowledge the existence of a mind. A dog is not a machine, and if you treat it like one, you can get hurt. This is more evident when working with large predators like bears and big cats - the people who train those animals for work in films recognize the animals' minds and respect their mental state. You do not ask a tiger in a grumpy mood to work on set that day - you give him his space, for he is large and powerful and you are puny and delicious.

Anyway, this book also contains a very good Canine IQ Test and Personality Test. The latter is very similar to temperament testing used widely by rescue groups to determine how a dog with unknown history will react.

100 Books a Year Meme

anissa7118 — Fri, 30 Jan 2009 02:29:04 GMT

OK, guys, I'll be honest. I'm really using this meme to figure out how many books I actually read in a year. I already missed a couple - adding them to this post. At this rate I shouldn't have any problem hitting 100 books by the end of the year.

7 / 100 books. 7% done!

A word on how I feel about books. A book's job is to entertain me. If I don't finish it, it was pretty bad. If I stop reading it for a week or more, and only come back because it's the last unread book in the house, or if I read it and then sell it or give it away, it was poor. If I read it through to the end, and keep it for future possible reading, it has succeeded. By my standards, that's a fairly good book. If I read it and feel so strongly about it that I swear never to read it again (see Duma Key), but keep it because I know I'll go back on what I've said, it's a really good book. If I read it and love it and read it again and again throughout the years, it's a great book. If I read it so much that I have to buy a new copy because I've broken the spine and worn the cover off the paperback, or if I buy a hardback copy, then it's a fantastic book. I generally only buy hardcover editions of books I already love - it's a mark of respect. My reading copies are generally paperbacks. Anyway, on to the list.

1. Bag of Bones, by Stephen King
2. The Golden Compass, of the His Dark Materials trilogy, by Philip Pullman
3. Cry to Heaven, by Anne Rice
4. The Good Guy, by Dean Koontz

5. The Sands of Mars by Arthur C. Clarke

I found this one at a flea market bookseller. Stacks of books, priced from a dollar up to about ten, drive me into a book-buying frenzy, and I snap up a lot of things that capture my interest, however briefly. I've been intrigued by the science fiction classics of Isaac Asimov and Ray Bradbury, so I grabbed this one. It's a little dry and talky, like most of the scifi of its time, but it puts more effort into characterization than I expected. It's still lighter on character than plot, by my standards, but it was a fun little read. Some reviewers elsewhere have complained that the main character is a Gary Stu - he's a science fiction writer travelling to Mars, but he's not romanticized in the manner of Mary Sues and Gary Stus the world over. And of course, we know now that the science presented in the book is very dated - Mars isn't covered with vegetation, etc - but a little suspension of disbelief is a good thing to have.

6. Duma Key by Stephen King

This one broke my heart. There's a traumatic character death that made me throw the book across the room and swear never to read it again. Of course, after Lois read it, I picked it up and read it again. It turns out that the death was foreshadowed, but I hated it anyway. This is another of King's vengeful ghost stories, but there's a lot more to it than that - the relationship between a father and his daughters, the dissolution of a marriage, and the all-too-realistic aftermath of a terrible accident. It's skillfully written and heartrending.

7. Watership Down by Richard Adams

A classic, one I've read about once a year for the last 15 years or so. Simply put, it's the story of a bunch of rabbits who leave their home warren and travel through many dangers to found a new one. The book itself is infinitely more complex than that, containing a whole culture brought to life through its own language, stories, songs, and proverbs. It begins with a line that is startlingly simple, and as far from the 'hook them on the first line' writing premise as you can get. "The primroses were over." And it ends on the note, "...the primroses were just beginning to bloom." After all these years, I only noticed that neat piece of bookending on this most recent reading. Which just goes to show that every reading of a book can bring something new to your eyes.

100 Books in a Year

anissa7118 — Tue, 27 Jan 2009 02:38:22 GMT

Again!

1. Bag of Bones, by Stephen King
2. The Golden Compass, of the His Dark Materials trilogy, by Philip Pullman
3. Cry to Heaven, by Anne Rice

4 / 100 books. 4% done!

4. The Good Guy, by Dean Koontz

In my personal opinion, not his best effort. Koontz is generally very good and suspenseful, and I've read a book of his that I wouldn't reread. However, this isn't in my top ten or top fifteen of his novels. It's nothing glaringly obvious, just a lack of excellence. The characterization is sketchy, though the plot is well-constructed and Koontz keeps the twists and turns coming, always another surprise. I love rich characters more than spiffy plots, though, so that might be my issue. And I sort of disliked the ending; it felt a little flat. It's not a bad book, it's just not one I'd take to a deserted island.

100 Books in a Year (catch-up post since Jan 1st)

anissa7118 — Sat, 24 Jan 2009 06:06:28 GMT

3 / 100 books. 3% done!

1. Bag of Bones by Stephen King
This is an old favorite that I recently found in hardcover and re-read. I idolize Stephen King - here he takes a classic vengeful-ghost plot, interweaves it with the tale of a man in mourning for his wife beginning to learn how to live again, and splices it into a story of a widow and her child that would be trite in anyone else's hands. These elements blend so beautifully that this is one of Lois' favorite books. Yeah, there's some sex in it, which isn't King's forte. But the tenderness in it is lovingly done, and the scary elements really do frighten.

2. The Golden Compass, of the His Dark Materials trilogy by Philip Pullman
This one gets compared to C.S. Lewis too much. Y'know, I read and loved C.S. Lewis' Narnia when I was younger. I'm old enough now to catch the propaganda in the series, but in my opinion, a good story is still a good story. Now, Pullman didn't yank me into the story right away - perhaps because I read plenty of reviews of the movie, and I was kind of waiting for certain scenes to happen. But I did find it hard to put down. The end, of course, made me want to fling the book across the room. Few authors do that to me - King did it in Duma Key and in the end of the Dark Tower series. It's actually a mark of quality - a boring book gets donated. A good book that hurts me gets thrown and cursed at. And if it hurt me, well, that just means the author accomplished his purpose? He led me to love a character, and then reminded me that life is cruel. Regardless, I'm looking forward to the next in the series.

3. Cry to Heaven, by Anne Rice
Yeah, I do own all her books. Even the A.N. Roquelare ones. Wanna make something of it? The fact is, I have never encountered another author whose descriptions are so lush that I close the book feeling slightly drunk. The mind reels with the exotic places and characters Rice conjures. I read this one piecemeal when I was much younger, too impatient to let the story build in its own time. This was the first time I've read it all the way through as it was intended to be read, and I was quietly amazed. That said, I'm not sure Rice achieved all of her thematic goals of challenging the reader's concepts of manhood, justice, vengeance, innocence, and forgiveness. But it was a lovely and thought-provoking read nonetheless.

Anissa's Random Ramblings

Why It's Good to Be AU

Why I've Always Hated 'Tolerance', Or, Unfocused Rambling

Definition of TOLERANCE

Definition of ACCEPTANCE

Superman Movieverse Pairings Challenge!

Superman Movieverse Pairings Challenge!

Superman Movieverse Pairings Challenge!

Superman Movieverse Pairings Challenge!

Heirs chatter

100 Books in 2009

Snow in Winter: Original Fiction

Another big ol' book post

Dog Training Post!

Dustin, the Psycho Dog

100 Books in 2009

About Pitbulls...

HOME AT LAST!

Oh Gods, Not Another Dog Post

More photos!

Writer's Block: Conversion Rate

A Year's Worth of Superman Movieverse Fanfiction

Catch-up Book Meme

100 Books in 2009 Challenge

100 Books Challenge

100 Books a Year Meme

100 Books in a Year

100 Books in a Year (catch-up post since Jan 1st)