STEPHAN LOY

I've got that one on my list, but mainly because Kate Philips is in it. I love her in Miss Scarlet and want to see how she's different in Peaky Blinders.

Yes, they do. My cat Buffy the Cat Toy Slayer is loving on her own schedule. You can (usually) even pet her. But if you EVER try to pick her up, it's "rrroOORRRWWWRAAAWRaaaaawROOOAAW!!!" and a cuisinart of slashing claws.
Then put her down and everything's cool again.

He also threatened to shut down the Senate if she doesn't answer his questions, which is kind of like threatening to beat yourself in the head with a hammer if that other person doesn't do what you want.

Today is critique day. I dive into the 3,000-word partial missives of my fellow writers and, in due respect and immanent love, tear them things to itty bitty pieces. The red ink shall flow freely today. Or maybe not.

But mercy ignored us all. The Nightmare attacked, throwing itself upon me like a tornado of starving locusts, like a hammer of doom. Its black dirt engulfed me, attempting to snuff out all that I am. Truthfully, it smothered me, bringing all to blackness, before I mustered the light that makes the spark of life and burst it forth like a sudden idea. The light ripped at the blackness that is fear. It sent the gibbering animal to seek what thin shadows it could glean from my eruption. But light isn't as it once might have been and I guttered and faded short of snuffing out. Back rushed the uncertainty of existence. It bound me in death, starvation, and the terror of falling to predators. It gagged me with greed, avarice, and jealousy. I countered with hope, slashing at my opponent with joy, longing, and love. And reason, ever present reason as a reserve to fall back on. In this way we battled, dark on light, reason on id, hate on love. We decimated the landscape of The World as comets crater mountains. We tumbled against the razor shards of onyx that made up the bulk of our land. We toppled elegant cities and misshapen hell-hole villages. We annihilated communities of fairies, and spiders, and hidden, nameless things. We careened through the cascades of ever-falling ones who, pummeled and piling into one another, nonetheless fell and moaned their fate. Dragons scattered in flocks before us. Mighty rocket ships diverted their aimless courses among the rough-drawn stars. Dinosaurs with jetpacks scattered away from destruction. Light, dark, fear and hope. The certainty of well-earned purpose against the filthy call of primal need. I couldn't possibly win.

Sorry for the length.

True.

The story of my life: I ordered a snowblower. It was delayed several times. Now it looks to be delivered (IF delivered) an hour after the last snow of the year has melted.

Thank you!

"It was weird as hell," the man says as they approach the first landing. He shakes one hand through his hair to scatter his crown of rain. "It was like, the guy just sat there, his fingers around his coffee cup, and shit just flew around him like he was in the eye of a freakin' tornado. The guys and me, we got a pool. Big money's on he's a telekinetic. He can move things with his mind." "Has anyone ever known a telekinetic?" She speaks evenly, perhaps she's a little somber, her mood obscuring the tonal airiness of her French accent. She knows her partner, but only in passing. She can't be sure that she trusts him. I understand her hesitancy. He's a strange man, a rare one. A man afraid of nothing. Most men fear everything.

#WIPSnips #WritingCommunity Going up the stairs to see a guy:

Now begins the most grueling hour of any week, planning out dinners for the next seven days.

It's woefully underrated as one of the best movies of all time?

As Garrett understood things, the White One didn't even qualify as human. It was kind of an allegory for all humans, maybe all living things. Something like that. The explanation hurt the brain. Anyway, the White One didn't even look white anymore. A dirty gray, sallow in the face, and where authority had emanated from it before, it now seemed wilted, and frail.

#WIPSnips #WritingCommunity #WriteSky

I think I've hit on a brilliant plan for increasing writers' critique group membership: signing bonuses!

That was also the scariest book. Mainly because it took all the tropes of horror (those stupid things people do that get them killed), avoided them, and people still got murdered by the binful.

Also, white everybody in the Charlton Heston Ten Commandments.

They should eat cake, too. Cake is some really cheap shit, especially if you get the really awful cake. Anyhow, let them eat liver and cake!

Lemon Meringue pie is pretty awesome, the tarter the better. I'll go for nearly any kind of pie, but particularly Dutch apple, Chocolate pudding, sweet potato, and coconut creme.

That's a stellar one!

Believe me, I would love for credible evidence to surface that Trump stole the election, because that would restore my faith in the electorate, but all evidence points the other way.

I'm never certain of anything, but there has been no evidence of vote tampering in the last election, from any state or voting district. So it seems reckless and self-serving to insinuate otherwise. It feels good to say this is all on Trump, but that isn't the case. We put him there.

That seems both weird and potentially, absolutely, positively, over-the-top messy. I feel sorry for Lunch Lady Doris and her washcloth.

I thought that was months ago. Isn't this just the refrain?

Consider the source. That's Musk influencing the election through misinformation and bribes, not him, or Trump, messing with the ballots. Nope. The American voters did a monumentally stupid thing, and they'll do it again unless they own up to it.

"Elected ... through illegal means"? This is the part that bothers me. We SO want to ignore the fact that we put him there. Voluntarily. Fair and square. Because WE don't want to be complicit in this mess. Sorry, he is the American voters' fault.

Yes, I'm a writer, too.

Well, they're crows, so he may be all right, anyway. If they'd been starlings, he'd be face down in a freshly-poured foundation of cement by now.

Some people just say stuff, don't they.

I'm thinking it was a raucous debate on exactly HOW to Kill All the Humans, and that one guy was holding out for provisional mercy for the humans with bird feeders. I mean, just maybe.

I'm watching it again as an adult. It's on Tubi. I'm somewhere around episode 850 now. It's still fun and goofy (and occasionally positively creepy) after all these decades.

New day, new stuff. Today's stuff seems to center around pulling something in my lower back.