In which I play dress-up

I'm working part-time at a haunted house, this season.

Since I can't commit to every night (which would make playing a main character in the storyline a bit difficult), I'm playing a generic spectre in the graveyard scene. It's what I did, last year, and it was quite fun. I dressed up as a faceless (OK, veiled) Victorian widow - no blood, no gore, no zombie makeup. I didn't say a word, but I managed to scare the everloving crap out of quite a number of people.

(Bwahahahahaha!)

My favorite thing to do was to stand in the shadow behind the fog machine and then walk forward when a group came through. The fog would collect in my cloak, and so as I moved, it was pushed along by the fabric and gave the illusion that I had just appeared out of a dramatic poof of vapor.

I took a walk in the gloaming

Something pulled me outside, so I slipped on some shoes and started walking.

I had originally intended to stick to the pavement - once over to the ALF and back, but I found myself steering toward the gated gravel road along the cross-country course.

I stopped momentarily at a break in the trees to my right and watched the full corn moon rise. It was orange.

I cut over into the grass and up the embankment. There's an opening there, between where the old post and wire fence ends and a large tree whose trunk I may or may not be able to span with my arms. The path was worn down to the bare dirt, but very narrow. The grass, which by this time of year would usually still only be knee-high and dry was actually waist high, and caught on my hair, which was down.

I emerged onto the mowed path and started walking.

There was a white fog creeping along the ground in all of the low spots. As I descended a hill into it, I could feel the cool, moist air, but could no longer see the shroud of mist around me. (It reappeared when I ascended the next hill at the other end of the field.)

The ground was so soft that I removed my shoes and walked, barefoot, along the path. I noticed that the field actually looked like a meadow. The grass and scrub plants were high, offering a multitude of colors and textures even in the quickly dimming twilight. I had to stop for a moment and close my eyes, taking in the wonderful smells of sweet wild herbs and meadow grass, and listening to the almost deafening sounds of the crickets. (It's amazing what happens when it actually rains during the summer!)

I realized, though, that it was getting Dark, and it's not that I was concerned for my safety from a "Big Scary Guy Will Jump Out of the Woods and Get Me" standpoint, but rather a "Hidden Critter Hole Will Reach Out and Break My Foot" one, so I put my shoes back on and headed back toward the "exit".

As I emerged back out onto the sidewalk, I knew I was definitely back in reality, as some young men in an apartment in the back section of Fountain Park were blasting obnoxious music and WOOOOOOOO-ing at some Manly Thing one of them had done.

But what good is it if you can't eat it?

I don't understand chocolate sculptures.

I mean, I can appreciate the amazing artistry and such, but for me, chocolate is something that should be eaten, and the things these artists create are too beautiful to destroy and masticate!

GenCon!!!

It's two days away, and I'm not nearly prepared.

I've been working on costumes (with the help of my good friend H), but life has gotten in the way, so I just know it will be down to the wire.

I haven't submitted any events, this year, so it will be kind of different.

So a vampire, a werewolf, and ghost share a flat in Bristol...

Despite (or perhaps because of) the fact that the premise sounds like the setup to a joke, I've really gotten into the BBC show, Being Human.

It really *is* about a vampire, a werewolf, and a ghost, all sharing a house in Bristol. The vampire and the werewolf are two guys trying to blend in and keep their "conditions" distant, and the ghost is a previous resident who was murdered.

It's quite good, and I hope that the short season doesn't indicate the quality of the show.

I've discovered why zombies are always after braaaaiiiiinnnnzzzzz...

They're all migraine sufferers, and are in search of a brain that won't cause them to shuffle around in a vacant-eyed, slack-jawed stupor.



In other news, I'm going into Day Three, here, and if experience serves me well, I predict that if it doesn't let up, I shall start developing involuntary tremors and/or becoming incredibly clumsy within the next day or two.

Review: Nekropolis, by Tim Waggoner

Nekropolis
Tim Waggoner

August 2009 (UK), October 2009 (US/Canada) – Angry Robot Books

Matthew Richter is a former cop from Cleveland, now deceased and making a “living” as a private investigator (or rather, a Person Who Does Favors for People) in the underworld city of Nekropolis – a ghastly and fantastical realm filled with all manner of dark and undead creatures, where the “technology” is alive (in a gruesomely Lovecraftian way), and everything is lit by a reddish “sun” called Umbriel.

Hard-up for funds to pay for continuing voodoo treatments to keep his rotting zombie corpse from falling apart on him, Richter takes on a job helping the daughter of the vampire mafia boss to solve a theft from her father’s collection (of which she is the caretaker), and retrieve the stolen item before her father finds out.

But what starts out as what seems like a simple investigation turns up something far more sinister. Joined by a cast of lively characters, Richter must find a way to keep himself together (literally) in order to help foil a plot to destroy the entire city.

Nekropolis is the first in what is slated to be a three-book series from Tim Waggoner, whose body of work already comprises over a dozen novels and more than fifty short stories and novellas. Those familiar with his work may recognize this as an expansion of his 2004 novella, Necropolis (published through Five Star Press). The story is witty and engaging, seamlessly blending genres in a mix of urban fantasy, horror, a little bit of romance, and old-fashioned pulp detective mystery.

Nekropolis launches in August (in UK, October in the US/Canada) as part of the debut of Angry Robot – the new adult science fiction/fantasy imprint of HarperCollins.

From Tuesday's Hafla

Photograph by Michael Trace

I think this look works for me, and I may focus future costuming energies on emulating Ruth St. Denis...

A String of Disasters Increasing in Scale?

On April 15, 1865, Abraham Lincoln was assassinated.

On April 15, 1912, the Titanic sank, taking with it 1500 people.

On April 15, every year, all of us Americans have to make sure our tax returns have been filed.

On April 15, 1976, I was born.


The world is doomed, I tell you! DOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMED!

Best hot chocolate ever

Whole milk (preferably non-homogenized), heated

Chocolate flakes (or chips), unsweetened or semi-sweet

Cardamom, ground