(no subject)

Man, book publishing gets expensive fast. No wonder the literary world is so full of cranky, cranky people.

Between dithering about font points and whether I really need to put two spaces after a stop and writing typesetting porn with cluegirl (it's all throbbing serifs and italic flowers), I've been looking into marketing options for Nameless on a larger scale than Other People Can Smell You -- which is to say, any scale at all.

( Cut for boring but informational process of pricing out marketing options. )

All that hassle being equal, I'd still rather self-publish than find a pro buyer for Nameless at this point, even if any would consider printing a book I've been giving away free up till now. And hell, if I could find nine other people who wanted an ISBN I'd sign up Extribulum Press as a for-reals publisher and go to town. A specialty co-op publishing agency wouldn't be hard to manage from the publishing end, with PayPal and Lulu on one's side. Logistics are a bit tricky, because you need to sign ten authors at a time or you're overinvested. And you need to assure them that they'll actually get their $60 ISBN-and-Barcode investment back again, or ensure that you make at least $60 in publisher's fees off them and still make them a profit. All of which involves publicity, which is doubly tricky.

Still, I suspect someone with more energy than I, and more willingness to be a total media whore, could pull it off rather well. :D

Why Does It Always Have To Be Snakes?

Did the Rift not get the memo that we don't celebrate St. Patrick's Day in Wales?

So, there was this woman who fell through the Rift and Jack and I thought we were going to have to take her to Freak Island but she said it was fine, she was actually an alien and had a ship nearby and she'd signal them. Brilliant, I thought, I'll go see about some dinner.

As it turns out, however, her signal beacon also attracted every snake within a five mile radius and in the Hub alone we apparently had several lower-level infestations. Some of them have been on the Rift too long and developed enough sentience to take the freight lift up.

Gwen, predictably, started shouting not to shoot them because they were poor harmless animals while I had Boa Versus Python flashbacks and just tried to keep from being eaten. Jack had already started shooting, naturally.

Gwen's next move was to dive for Max, which I thought was ridiculous considering he was well on his way to earning his kibble by slaying several of the smaller ones. Jack continued to shoot. Myfanwy freaked out and started dive-bombing them and she's still got a few up in her nest. She keeps pushing them out at regular intervals, apparently expecting them to fly. We Are Not Amused.

Finally Jack ran out of ammunition and Max stopped trying to get away from Gwen and we broke out the FTL SuperHoover which we haven't used since that time Owen used it to launch an unsuspecting plate of biscuits into space. Theoretically you aim it at whatever it is you want to hoover up and it zaps them to a predetermined destination. Unfortunately in this case it was set to "Australia" (apparently its default) but they have so many already I'm sure they won't mind a few more.

Gwen went topside to make sure everyone knew it was a gas leak (we must come up with some new excuses) and make sure nobody saw the really smart snakes spelling out rude words in front of the Millenium Centre. Jack went off to clean his piece and reload.

I'm quite good with the FTL SuperHoover though I say it myself. I'd make a bloody great snake-banisher if I was allowed to take the SuperHoover along.

Though I don't prefer to be thought of as St. Patrick. I'd prefer to be Jones...Indianto Jones.

(no subject)

NCIS just showed, in some opening stock footage, the building I work in.

I love living in Chicago. And my job. And this show!

(although: Frango mints? To be honest I can't think what other well-known cultural artefact you can get in Chicago that you can't get elsewhere, but Frango Mints are the overpriced chocs they sell to tourists in the basement of Macy's/Marshall Fields.)

Sam's Three Things About NCIS: ( Sam's Three Things About NCIS: It's Been A While )

3a. Gibbs gave Abby that hot rhinestone choker, Y/Y?

Technology: Still Marvelous

Ordinarily I like to space out my entries a bit, but this simply couldn't wait.

If you think the Welsh couldn't rule the world if we wanted to, I invite you to watch what we can do to sheep (minds out of the gutters if you please).

We could rule the world. We just prefer making sheep play pong.

(no subject)

So R just called.

Sometimes he DJs karaoke, a complex process involving his computer having sex with an amp or something. Anyway.

The phone rings.

Sam: R, I thought you were at karaoke.
R: I am. The computer won't start.
Sam: Huh?
R: What's wrong with the computer?
Sam: *facepalm* R, I'm not MAGIC.
R: Wait...it totally just started up. YOU ARE MAGIC. HOW DID YOU DO THAT? Okay gotta play Black Velvet, call you later.

I just.

What.