Five Trivial Things

1. This dude read Superpowers and liked it a lot. "[I]t's fantastic. In the post- Bryan Singer world, where heroes in other mediums than comics no longer have to wear spandex, this is how individuals with powers in this day and age should be written. I *highly* recommend this one."

2. French scientist surprised that elephants are not water-hole bullies. I don't . . . what?

3. I ended up nuking my Twitter account, because trying to keep up with it was actually stressing me out. I can't keep up with my own daily life, so I guess trying to keep up with everyone else's just isn't going to work.

4. Fuck You, Penguin is perfect for those who like to pretend cute animals don't matter to them. Thanks to Shana for the link.

5. Finally, there is this, which I cannot explain:

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That End-of-the-Year-First-Sentences-from-the-First-Entry-of-Each-Month Meme

The NYT is estimating that more than 250 people have died in the rioting; the AP puts the total at 300. I really love this story I'm working on. Didja ever write something that made you so uncomfortable with your own brain that you had to physically move away from the manuscript in order to rid yourself of the wiggins? Today marks the release of Paper Cities, An Anthology of Urban Fantasy, with stories by (deep breath): Forrest Aguirre, Barth Anderson, Steve Berman, Darin Bradley, Stephanie Campisi, Hal Duncan, Mike Jasper, Vylar Kaftan, Jay Lake, Paul Meloy, Richard Parks, Ben Peek, Cat Rambo, Jenn Reese, David Schwartz, Cat Sparks, Anna Tambour, Mark Teppo, Catherynne M. Valente, Greg van Eekhout, and Kaaron Warren. I got this email from myself of a year ago April today, courtesy of FutureMe. Via several folks: What were you doing five years ago? My mom saw the sticker on my laptop, of a pink elephant wearing sunglasses, and asked why I had it. On a few occasions recently I've found the idea of going back to school for another degree wandering through my head, upon which I have pounded said head against the nearest brick surface. Greenwald has more on the story. When you say "Main Street" and "Wall Street" in the same sentence, you buy the next round. Went to the Turf Club tonight, and sat through one shitty kiddy band that thought they were the Strokes and one searing noise band that wasn't too bad. How good is my "Proof of Zero" from Spicy Slipstream Stories?

'Tis the Season or Something

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