Okay, not really. But I got your attention, didn’t I? Ah, these little games we bloggers play with ourselves…

So, the day after I accused my husband of being unromantic (not in a mean way) he turns around and gives me brushed steel dice as an anniversary gift. Now, most of you probably think that proves my point, but in fact the opposite is true. See, I have this thing for dice. Gamer dice: 4-sided, 8-sided, 12-sided, 20-sided. The more exotic the better. I have a mini-collection of them that I am prone to display in little glass dishes. Whatsmore, dice have become a totemic anniversary gift for us, starting way back when a die from a vending machine was all the anniversary gift (aside from dinner and a movie) that either of us could manage. I’ve a little collection of anniversary dice to go along with my gaming dice now, you see. And the brushed steel? Well, the 11th anniversary is the steel anniversary. On top of that, this is the first anniversary we haven’t been together, and he managed to get the gift ordered in time so that it was delivered on the right day. All together, a very thoughtful and romantic gift. And purty too.

Which only made me feel that much worse for not having managed to get something out to him. Not even a card. Talk about guilt! I got me some serious making up to do here: the search for the perfect gift is underway!

In the meantime, I have been snapping flower pictures like crazy. At least when the camera is functioning. It’s a bit snooty at times from having been dropped on its head once to often. Both of these are cut from my mother’s garden. I’ve used some artistic filters on the dahlia which you won’t really notice unless you click through and look at the full-sized image. The iris, though, is virtually untouched — sharpened a little, cropped a little. That eerie glow is what happens when you shove the lens inside the petals and fire off the flash.

… and then a glimpse of the project it’s going to be used on. Not that it won’t get a lot of use elsewhere, too. I’m really pleased with this one, because it’s an original design, not based on clip art, like most of my previous stamps. I’m trying to be productive with my free afternoons this summer. Once school starts, I’ll be going to work full time, which means much less play time for me. I can live with it, but I want to make as much use of the time while I’ve got it, no matter how appealing simply lounging by the pool would be. I’ve got two art book projects that I’d like to do, and who knows how many previously-begun projects that I should try and complete as well. Evenings are for writing, though! And maybe, if I can get the group organized, some tabletop RPGing. It’d be nice to have a chance to use those shiny dice, after all.

Self-portrait taken at Disneyland last month. I like how skinny it makes me look.

Rohj heard the hoof beats long before anyone else in the camp, even over the din of the forge where he worked. Felt it, more like, deep in his bones, a rapid staccato that set his hammer to a faster rhythm. Sparks shot out as he pounded the metal, gleaming cinders that lit upon his heavy work apron like tiny stars before winking out. Each blow fell with precision, despite his increasing speed. His face was flush with exertion, with heat. With anticipation.

He wanted to finish it before she arrived.

By the time those on the outskirts of the camp noticed her approach, he’d laid down his hammer and plunged the glowing length of steel into the water bath. Steam wreathed up and around him, beading against the exposed skin of his face and arms. About him, he heard the other workers in the forge pause in their labors, listening. They were eager for news.

Beyond the covered area where the blacksmiths worked, a throng of fighting men and women was in motion. They wove among the rows of tents, not running, but with a restrained haste in their movement as they gathered on the edge of the camp, watching for their leader to appear, anxious to learn the news she brought. The low, anxious buzz of their voices swirled into the forge, filling the empty spaces created by the stilled hammers, tongs and bellows. The forge workers watched Rohj, waiting to see if he would go, releasing them as well.

But he did not go. He knew her better than most, well enough to guess that she’d come to him first, before she shared her news with anyone else in the camp. He smiled to himself as he thought of the gift he would have for her. Grudgingly, the blacksmiths around him took up their tools once again.

Steam still rose from the water-filled barrel when Rohj reached into it, running his hands down the length of the thing he had made. Three feet of steel, it was, and a hand-span wide. His fingers told him what his heart already knew: it was the finest blade he had ever made.

He pulled it from the barrel and dried the length of it with a soft cloth. It needed tempering, yet, and to be polished and honed, and lastly to be fitted into the hilt he had made days before, the one set with a thumb-sized shard of ruby in the pommel. The Heart of the Rose. It would be enough for now. She would know its quality as well as he, even if it did not yet shine.

Pride gleamed in his eyes as he wrapped the blade in a length of fleece. The noise outside increased and by the cheers that arose from the soldiers he guessed that she must now be among them. The echo of her horse’s hooves still pulsed through him. She was closer now, pace slowed as she moved through the camp but not much. Rohj tucked his gift beneath an arm and went out to meet her.

He had timed it perfectly. Just as he stepped into the sunshine, her pale gold stallion broke through the crowd and came to a rearing halt on the grass before him. She slid to the ground even before the horse stopped moving and strode towards Rojh, a triumphant grin upon her face.

“Dox Imbra,” he said, and bowed.

She was glorious. Though she was dressed in a simple tunic and breeches no different then the soldiers who followed her, she was suffused with a power and physical grace that set her apart from everyone around her, and always had. Even as children playing on the banks of the Tongue he had been captivated by her. Twenty years and royal consecration had only magnified her grandeur.

“Well, it’s done.” She stopped in front of him, hands resting on her hips. “The elders have consented. No more waiting to be beset by raiders, and uselessly chasing after them once the harm’s already been done. We’ll march the army right at them, this time. Show them what it means to have their home invaded.”

She was speaking only to Rojh, not making a speech, but those nearby heard her words and began to murmur excitedly, and the noise grew in intensity as the news spread. This was the message they had all been waiting for: war with the Vinkyr.

“Runners went out already. We might have new recruits as early as this evening. Will you be able to arm them all?”

He gestured to the ranks of workers who had followed him, at last, out of the forge. “We will work day and night until every man and woman who fights for you is outfitted properly.”

“Good,” she said with a crisp nod, and he saw that she had never really doubted him. “We should have a bonfire tonight. There…” she pointed to the peak of a tall hill nestled in a bend of the Tongue. Imbra’s hill, where the sunbolt had been fired into the sky to claim all the lands it crossed for the people of Ular. “Will you see that is done, Rojh? To call my warriors to me.”

“As my Queen desires.” He saluted, fist to chest, and bowed to her once more.

“Good,” she said again. Then, as if she had just noticed (though he was sure it was not so) she jerked her chin towards the bundle tucked beneath his arm. “What’s that?”

“Something I promised you a long time ago.” He lifted it in his hands, flipped away the sheepskin so that she could see it clearly.

She sucked in her breath and her eyes lit up like fire. “My sword!”

“The finest ever forged, as I said it would be.”

She reached for the blade, but hesitated before touching it. “Can I…?”

“It’s yours,” he assured her, and pushed the blade into her hands.

She took it gingerly, balancing the length of steel on the tips of her fingers, feeling the weight and balance, imagining, he guessed, what it would look like when it was finished properly.

She made a low, appreciative noise in the back of her through, the sort of predatory growl usually reserved for their lovemaking.

“Oh, Rohj…” She turned her burning eyes on him. “Now I know we shall be victorious. With this sword, nothing will stand in my way.”

She whirled around to face the gathered warriors, sword blade thrust high over her head, and shouted:

“Nothing can stand in our way!”

The army of Ular roared in response.

I feel shiny today. Or at least I did: getting stuck in a traffic jam when I was already late picking up Anna, and then having to go grocery shopping have rubbed a bit of my earlier ebullience away. But it’s been a good day in general. A good week, actually, starting with Monday when I got to chat with my friend, Sol, who has been absent from my netlife for a few months, ever since we both started new jobs. We live on different coasts and have never met face to face, but we’ve known each other for, gosh, it must be close to seven years now. She’s one of those people with whom I have a real creative rapport, so talking with her always gets those pistons in my brain flying.

Tuesday was Anna’s Kindergarten graduation. I’m not sure I approve of the pomp for kiddos this age, even when as casually done as yesterday’s event. But it sure is hard not to beam with motherly affection:

What is she hiding behind that silly smile?

Yup, it was a momentous day for Anna in two ways. Not only did she graduate from Kindergarten, she lost her first tooth! You can already see the new one coming up behind, too. Unfortunately, she wasn’t aware when it well out, and it is lost somewhere on the playground. The tooth fairy still paid a visit, though, so she’s happy.

Then, I went bathing suit shopping and bought a bikini. No kidding. Me in a bikini. Sorry, no photo at this time, but maybe later in the summer. Maybe.

Last night, I escaped for a writing date with myself (or maybe, Nin, it was a date with Mr. Animus). I didn’t want to go to Borders, since Tuesday is the night the writing group I used to belong to meets there, and I just did not feel like crossing paths. So I drove to downtown Fullerton and found one of those quintessential coffee shops that writers are supposed to haunt. It was a nice evening, so all the noisy groups of people were outside, leaving the comfy sofas inside to those of us scribbling away in solitude. I spent about an hour and a half, and finished the drafts of two short pieces that I’ve been working on. (The previously promised 10Q post is one of those — I’ve been struggling with the voice, a bit, but I think it’s okay now; I just need to type it in and polish a little.)

Today at work started with some feedback from one of the other Stampington editors on the articles (including the Letter from the Editor) I’ve written for the upcoming mag. She said she liked my writing and only had some technical style corrections for me. It doesn’t matter how confident in your skills you are, it always is nice to get compliments from a peer!

Then we had the walk through for the issue, which is when the editor and the graphic designer show the laid out articles to the publisher, the director of publishing and the creative v.p. To say they were pleased would be an understatement. Lots of gasping and ooohs and aaahs which were gratifying beyond belief. Gratifying but not surprising, because I have seen this thing going together page by page, and it is simply amazing. Stampington has posted some sample pages on their website, so I can show you what I mean:

Aren’t they gorgeous? And you can’t even read the text, which is so inspiring, filled with wisdom and humor and just plain good storytelling. I am so excited for this thing to hit the shelves. Please pardon me while I plug it just one more time: go order your copy of Artful Blogging right now!

Now, I’ve got to surrender the ‘puter to the kids to waste a little of their free time. Tomorrow is the last day of school, and you know what that means…

Yeah, I feel all shiny again writing about all the good stuff that’s happened today and all week. Good enough to post a picture of myself (not in a bikini!) even though it shows too many wrinkles around my eyes. But they’re good, smiley wrinkles, and it’s hard to complain about that.

Shiny.

Last night, prompted by my stoopid realization of Wednesday, I used my newly-established weekly writing date to take another stab at writing project that’s been simmering on the back burner for a while. If you only read this on LiveJournal (and I’m not fooling myself, I know most of my readers are LJers) you may not be familiar with The Book of Ten Queens, a work of serial mythic fiction conceptualized several years ago that I’ve made several false starts with here on this site.

Prompted by a writing exercise, of sorts, I realized that my main problem with 10Q was voice: I was trying too consciously to be Mythic, striving for something that sounded ancient and ponderous yet poetic at the same time…and failing miserably. What works best for me is a more comfortable, personal voice — not without artistry, but not overcome by it either. It’s easier to write, and probably more entertaining to read, and since the stoopid realization decreed that I needed to be posting audience-friendly fiction on a regular basis — if only for the personal satisfaction I get from it — it seems that taking a more personal, character-friendly tack with the project is the right course to take. It’s not like I ever intended 10Q to be something “publishable” (though what that means anymore, who knows). It’s practice, really, a step along that million-word march towards being a really good writer.

Last night’s session went really well, for all that I wasted half of my two-hour outing catching up with my former colleagues at Borders. I wrote over two-pages, longhand (which is a lot for me, I’m a slow writer, when it comes down to it…maybe this exercise will help me to speed up some), and will hopefully finish the piece this afternoon, to post over the weekend. So this is just a heads up that a weird little bit of episodic fiction will be appearing in this space soon, and if you haven’t looked at the 10Q section of the site you might want to. Just to prepare yourself. Or to give my site stats a boost for the day.

In the meantime, here are few links from the past few days that have caught my eye:

Thought Provoking:
Pimp My Story: The “ugly duckling” and “naked emperor” archetypes in contemporary news and reality entertainment. A keen realization about media trends. (Poynter Online)

Curious About:
A Dark World Comes to Life: Lucy has been devouring Philip Pullman’s Northern Lights trilogy the last few weeks, and she was estatic to hear a movie based on the first book, The Golden Compass, is coming out this fall. We watched the trailer for it online, and it looks pretty impressive, and since Pullman seems to be heavily involved in the production it should stay fairly faithful to the original. Lucy has a pretty good head on her shoulders about that sort of thing — she saw the movie Ella Enchanted, enjoyed it; then she read the book and promptly declared that the movie was full of silly things and book was far superior. Anyway, we’re looking forward to seeing this when it comes out. (Sydney Morning Herald)

Touching:
Grain d’Or: Corey Amaro’s blog never fails to enchant me, but I especially love this story about an old Marseilles custom about a gift celebrating life’s accomplishments. It actually reminds me of something created in my Imaginarium once.

Mind Numbing:
Warner Bros. buys “Shannara” books: I suppose it was inevitable, given the current Hollywood interest in fantasy, that someone would grab what was the first mass-market fantasy best seller. Admittedly, I’ve not read any of the newer books (just the original trilogy, and it must be over 20 years since I read those) but I’ve never heard anything that made me suspect I was missing anything. Still, if they play up the post-apocalyptic angle as the news item seems to suggest, it could give an interesting new look to fantasy on the big screen. (Reuters)

Exciting as Hell:
Artful Blogging: It’s almost here, folks! Go pre-order your copy and help secure my career with this company!

I’ve had the sudden, stupid realization that I really like it when people read (and respond to) something I’ve written, and that I should probably get more out there for people to read (and respond to). And, too, actually get more written.

Lesson: quantity leads to quality.

What’s your stupid realization for the day?