not falling down

The main side effect of the Penny Arcade bump for Ommatidia has been a notification avalanche–via email or Technorati–of other people who have started (or were already doing) tiny story blogs in a similar vein. I think this is awesome, but honestly I lose track of which site is which, and even I can only read so much blink fiction in a day.

So here’s an offer: if you’re doing tiny stories on some sort of schedule, email me with a link and a little summary and I’ll add you to the directory page I’m putting together now. I am not promising to subscribe to all of them, for the aforementioned reasons, but I will go through once a month to check them all, maybe make a recommendation, and clean out the dead ones. (If you have emailed me about your story blog, and it’s still going, and you want it to be on the list, I would appreciate it if you’d email me again.)

Besides the obvious, I’ll start it off with just such a recommendation: The Two Minutes Project, comprising Two Minutes Less a Third and Chasing Concordia. Very short stories and very short songs! Read The Eternal Question if you need convincing, which you shouldn’t, dammit you have got to start TRUSTING me someday.

After nearly two months in one sort of transition or another, I have achieved something like a temporary stability: I even bought a flat hard bed, manufactured (I am given to understand) by svirfneblin. All of which is to say my name is on a lease, my belongings no longer fit in the Fit and I like it here very much. I live with the very droll Kara, at least until she discovers I used to play Warcraft and kicks me out, and I’m slowly coming around to the idea of a bike.

I promise I’ll get the rest of the Hugner pictures up soon.

UJ wrote a fantastic response to my “Christ of the Barricades” challenge, and Will wrote a prequel to Beloit, saved here from the LJ feed:

Tarnished as it is, the dirty chrome armour of the Heliocrashers shines as they blast through the wall: Erythrophobia zaps at a guard, but canon says that sonoluminescence doesn’t cause bubble fusion. So she punches him through a wall.

The other ‘crashers are covering her while she sets a charge against the generator’s critical weak point when canon oozes out of a grate and tears Erythrophobia in half. The charge doesn’t detonate because canon says they use fusion to fly, not fight: instead, her top half flies into a duct and her suit’s failing containment does the job just as well.

And then there’s stuff like Sumana’s MC Masala, which… you know about MC Masala, right? And Leonard is getting the kind of rejection letters most of us would kill for, for a story you will (when you get to see it) kill to have come up with.

There’s no unifying characteristic between the amazing writers with whom I associate, no New School or Movement, even though I keep trying to assign one. I guess I’m just going to have to publish all you guys?

I only found out by way of Jon and Amanda that my second cousin Dawn blogs. Her writing is frank, observant, self-deprecating and frequently caustic. It’s also really, really funny:

“Does this say something about my friend group?

I lost my virginity in room 116 of the Economy Inn in Danville, KY. Centre College students called it the pink hotel, in reference to the color of the neon lights decorating its roof. Oh, and immediately after the completion of the act my loving then-boyfriend (also a virgin) looked at me and said, ‘You know, that was alright, but I’m definitely glad I didn’t wait to get married.’

After taking Heather’s virginity, her boyfriend said, ‘Well, you had to pay for your dinner somehow.’

An anonymous friend lost her virginity to her 31-year-old manager at the Honey-Baked Ham store.

Katherine lost her virginity to a boy nick-named ‘Soup Can’. She cried the whole time.

My personal consolation is that the Pink Hotel has since been bull-dozed to the ground.”

She and I went to Centre together, and we were always friendly, but also a few degrees of network-separation apart. If you read this, Dawn, I’d like to state that I officially regret not hanging out with you more.

MY GRANDMOTHER BLOGS!

XORPH DOT MOM

Miscellétudes: David Flora making music on the interweb! It was Lisa’s idea to make him do a weekly one-minute composition, but I get to host him for it.

I think this is frickin’ great!

I finally convinced one of my relatives to get a blog! My uncle John, about whom I’ve written before, has already started things off on the right foot with a post about how bad for you blogging can be. I wholly support this!

I’m hosting somebody else’s blog now! This makes me really excited!

Well, actually I host two: Jon, King of Former Roommates, started his songwriting journal back in December and then forgot about it. You’re fired, Brasfield! Hand over your badge!

I should go ahead and make the co-opted Crummy Standing Offer here: If you are part of my family (and this includes more than just my relatives) and you want a place to keep a journal, I will gladly host you.

David Flora IS The Monkey’s Paw!

David assures me that he did not write the accompanying tour blog and cannot be held responsible for it.

Why, I do believe I have inspired a NewsBruiser install! Hooray! Now the scary girl won’t come out of the TV and melt my face.