surei: (zork)
"… beguiling the tedium of the way by describing to him in detail the various exhibits he had that morning seen at Merlin's Mechanical Museum. These included such attractions as a juggler, an aerial cavalcade, Merlin's Cave, and a set of Antique Whispering Busts (very ingenious); but these had not interested Felix as much as a hydraulic vase, a band of mechanical music, an mechanical cruising frigate. … he meant next to visit an exhibition at Spring Gardens, where Maillardet's Automaton was to be seen. This marvel … was a musical lady, who was advertised, rather alarmingly, to perform most of the functions of animal life, and to play sixteen airs upon an organized pianoforte, by the actual pressure of the fingers."
    -- Frederica, Georgette Heyer

Felix, a twelve year old boy and one of the minor main characters, is interested in steam power. Over the course of the story, in addition to the above passage, he looks for (but fails to find) one of Trevithick's railway locomotives called the Catch-me-who-can, visits a Soho foundry with a pneumatic lift, takes a trip down the river in a steam boat, and rides in a hot-air balloon.

The story itself is set in London, 1818.


This is the ranty part )

So.

Jan. 1st, 2012 08:51 pm
surei: (zork)
I was reading through old entries to make sure my tagging habits had not gone astray (namely: does 'writing' mean 'about writing' or 'fiction' or both?) and came across a link which I will repeat here, on the nature of the Mary Sue. I mostly agree with the definition given, with the caveat that a Mary Sue (as I use the term) need not be (recognizably) a self-insert. It frequently is, just as an author's first story's protagonist often greatly resembles themself (usually with some amount of idealization), and for similar reasons. But to dismiss Princess Evangeline Hiroko Astarte Picasso Pluto Valentine (and her rainbow-maned spunicorn), the last of the pink-eyed cat-people raised tragically by magic worms after her planet was blown up, and who gets up to lots of lesbian hijinks in between solving everyone's problems and being picked on for her dark skin, simply because her story was written by a white middle-aged man, seems like a specious argument to me. Likewise the Draco Malfoy (written by a fourteen year old girl) who looks good in leather pants and who could totally sex up anybody and everybody worth mentioning except that he's secretly in love with Virginia Ginevra Weasely (or maybe Hermione) and spends a lot of time pining for her and angsting that he can never reveal his feelings, oh woe! And who eventually dies in Harry's arms, spontaneously turning him gay and giving him the impetus to bypass all that nonsense in book seven and destroy Voldemort utterly with the power of his newfound (long-denied?) love, driven by rage and grief. Those are, of course, extreme examples, in order to better illustrate my point. Still.
surei: (jenova demands pie)
Speaking of hooks, this random thing just popped into my head:


The problem was that the toilet only spoke French, or pretended to, though it certainly recognized swear words fast enough to take offense. He couldn't threaten it, because how can you threaten something that doesn't understand you? And if he tried to smack it, it would only start wailing and making an awful racket with the plumbing, and the appartment would flood, and the next thing he'd know the manager would be knocking on his door with an eviction notice and he'd be out of a home, again, him and the toilet both.

"You hate me, don't you?" he said.

"C'est pas possible, chérie, je t'adore," the toilet warbled.

He didn't speak French, but he was sure it was something filthy.

whee!

Jan. 27th, 2011 02:15 am
surei: (jenova demands pie)
excerpt )

I came up with most of this during the periods I couldn't sleep the night before last, and to me it's humor-horror. There's more, but that last line was the one around which the story and idea was based, so I'm taking my father's advice and cutting it off there. Besides, it's only a sample. :p
surei: (you too)
Alright, I realize that I'm spoiled, but come on, people! Text rotation and text direction. I want them. I do databases. Not spreadsheets, databases. )
surei: (boom)
Ack, ack, ack. I'm so sorry~~~ I've been ignoring LJ in favor of... uh.

Well, in favor of SCA and singing and SheVaCon and calligraphic AUM-type squiggles and thinking about school and sewing clothes and fumbling back through barely-remembered math and Japanese and story ideas and TRYING TO GET CREATIVE AGAIN, DAMMIT and testing out a stronger dose of my meds and talking to people and reading lots and organizing and cuddling Ruby and coding and cooking and.

Yeah.

Time for a rushed report! )

Good grief, that's a lot of tags.

Um.

Aug. 26th, 2007 11:33 pm
surei: (none)
I... I may have just accidentally finished a story I hadn't intended on being anywhere near done with. But I came to a moral ending phrase, and that's how I usually end my stories, and I can't think of how to continue it and —

OMG, I now have the ending. God, it's so corny, but it works with the title perfectly. And I'm at... nearly 9k. Words, I mean. That's a decent short story.

Um.

Excuse me, I have to be stunned for a while, here. Completely blindsided.

baton

Nov. 14th, 2006 12:48 pm
surei: (self)
Passing it on from [livejournal.com profile] askerian:

http://community.livejournal.com/paidmembers/18838.html

Paid users, LJ is give you one week longer of paid time to compensate for the recent mess, as long as you go and claim it soonish. It's just a matter of clicking on a link.

And, randomly:

I didn't take up the NaNo challenge, but I did decide, about a week into November, to start keeping track of how many words I've written. It's a pathetic amount, only about 16k, but this is starting about seven days later. And it's really inspiring me to write, which is good!

fablething

Jul. 13th, 2006 03:01 pm
surei: (niknak)
One day, a cat, a raven, a snake, and a wolf all met, and because each were proud, they refused to bow to the other, and so they had a competition to determine who should be king of the forest. The wolf went first.

"I am king of the forest," he said, "because with my pack, there is no animal I cannot hunt down."

"That's all very well," said the cat, "but without your pack, I can defeat you with just my claws to your nose."

"You may think your claws are so great," said the snake, "but my fangs are filled with venom, and a single bite will kill you."

"I am king of the forest," said the raven at last, "because while the three of you can each kill the other, none of you can catch me." And he flew off to prove it.

- It just so happens that those three are the four animals/kinds of animals I like best.

MS

Mar. 23rd, 2006 12:01 pm
surei: (grin)
Sometimes I follow links to links to links ad infinitum, unless I get distracted. Today, I started with [livejournal.com profile] linadarkstar, and after not much clicking whatsoever, reached this. It happens to be a really very good, if somewhat longwinded and linky, definition of what constitutes the *dun dun DUN* Mary Sue.

Heh.

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