Well. It could be worse.
Starting with an inspiration phase we would look for imagery online while we sketch and hash out rough ideas. After sketching, erasing, sweeping up eraser dust off our desks and repeating that a dozen times, we would draw iPhone or iPad sized screens on paper to eventually fill with promising candidates from our sketching session. After a couple iterations we usually share a version for a design review. […]
iPad Pro eliminates eraser dust and stacks of unnecessary paper sketches. Now we are able to copy and paste a sketch we’ve done, erase parts we don’t like and iterate on top of that. From there, we can simply Airdrop the sketch to our computers.
It’s easy for many people to forget just how much design and illustration work still happens on paper — iPad Pro and Apple Pencil seem to be moving the needle on this.
- a discussion about the characterisation of Queter, how Breq feels about her, etc over on tumblr
- I wrote a critique of the German translator's approach to Ancillary Justice as described in the Interfictions article, and consequently came across some discussion of the Hungarian translation
- Ann Leckie refuses to comment on whether she is in fact the pen name for the Anaander Mianaai signed to Orbit.
For myself, I have settled on some choice angst, both of the Daniel (and Sha're) variety and a Jaffa OC who will hopefully work out well. Not that I've actually typed out a single word, but...
We are still actually two letters short at the Episotolary Alphabet Soup. One will go to my own fic, and one lovely author has volunteered to write a backup, but experience strongly recommends that we have 26 separate authors signed up if we want to have a completed anthology in a reasonable timeframe. So who's up to at least 100 words of gen fic that is somehow epistolary? (Yes, we've had more than one literal drabble in the past.) Please go to this entry and sign up if you're interested!
Signal boosts, as always, are deeply appreciated.
( Spoilers hadn't realised before the British were way behind in getting the vote for all women )
Halfamoon Prompt Challenge - Day 11: Old And New
Generations, passing the baton, growing out of her old self and into who she can and will be. Compare and contrast; youth has enthusiasm and energy, but time brings experience and wisdom.
Post links to your fanworks to the community, and tag with prompt challenge!
Halfamoon Prompt Challenge - Day 10: friendship
It may be about the good times, but it’s also about the bad times. Shits and giggles, arguments and accusations, backing them up, bringing them down to earth. But that’s what friends are for.
Post links to your fanworks to the community, and tag with prompt challenge!
(Apologies for the last couple of days; RL got in several kinds of way.)
At last my dear ones and their family are come to Town. Tho’ I should like to fly to them at once, I mind that they are moving into a new place and that even so well-appoint’d as the east wing of R- House is, settling in will take some little time.
'Tis a most exceeding fine day when I set out in my carriage for R- House, that still feels like late summer rather than early autumn.
When I present myself at the door of the east wing, the footman tells me that the entire family is gone into the gardens, and escorts me through to the garden-door. I step out and see a cluster of people at the further end of the fine lawn that stretched out before me.
As I walk towards them a small figure comes running towards me, holding out her arms – o, 'tis my precious darling Flora that comes to greet me, I blink away the water in my eyes, lean down and pick her up – sure she is a fine well-grown creature. She plants kisses upon my cheeks and babbles happily to me. I kiss my sweet jewel and hug her close.
Comes up our dear Grand Turk and says that sure she must be a heavy burden for me and offers to take her. I shake my head and smile at him. Oh no, this is a burden I long to bear. We walk over to the rest of the family.
I see that what I suppos’d the family group includes Lord G- R-, Roberts and Julius. My dear wild Eliza stands talking to Roberts, I daresay about kitchen garden and hothouse matters. Quintus is showing very kind to Julius in instructing him how to hold a bat. Milord is demonstrating to Harry, Josh, and their sisters a particular way of throwing the ball. Miss N- is standing looking about the gardens quite in amazement.
Oh, Lady B-, she sighs, who would have expect’d such fine gardens nigh to the centre of London? Are they not remarkable? 'Twill be ideal for the children. Of course, we are all a little over-excit’d at the moment, with all the newness, but soon we shall settle to lessons again.
I mention that I hear that they are looking for someone to give Meg piano-lessons, and if this is so, I have a very fine pianist to prefer to the post.
Oh, indeed, she goes quite beyond what I can teach her! Also she has heard that there are very fine concerts and quite longs to go hear great musicians.
Why, says I, as you know, Lady J-, that is such a great friend of Mrs F-, holds very fine private musicales at M- House and I confide that she would be entire delight’d to send cards to any in the household that would desire to attend. She also gets up subscription concerts.
Miss N- then minds her of another matter and is most extreme effusive about my care of that naughty Josh when he ran away. Tho’, indeed, she blames herself somewhat for not noticing that Josh was discontent and ensuring that he was occupy’d and includ’d in their recreations.
My dear Miss N-, I am sure that you had your hands quite entirely full with Bess and Meg and taking Quintus through his alphabet &C.
Even so, she says, she is most exceeding gratefull that she did not lose her place over the matter.
Is this not, she continues, a most exceeding fine establishment? 'Tis perhaps a little daunting, but she dares say they will become us’d to it.
Flora becomes somewhat impatient that I do not give her my complete attention and starts pulling at my hair. O no, precious Flora, you must not do that, or the tiger will come eat you up.
Tiger! cries Flora very hopefull, but I just growl tiger-wise at her. Sure I do not think I can go be a tiger here in the garden, where I daresay the servants can observe from the house and there are a couple of under-gardeners in the flower-beds, for I fear 'twould get about that Lady B- is quite fit for Bedlam - supposes she is a tiger.
Down! says Flora very firm, and I put her down upon the grass. She runs over to Quintus and Julius and tries to take the bat away. Dear Josiah gives me a little smile and goes arbitrate.
The other children come over: Harry, Bess and Meg all shake my hand very proper, but Josh gives me a firm hug before saying, very fast, that he is very sorry for the inconvenience and worry he caus’d me and indeed he was a very bad boy.
I kiss the top of his head. Dear Josh, 'twas quite an entire pleasure to have you come visit, but that I was concern’d for the worry you were causing your family.
Harry says, thoughtless little beast, sure you should have kept him on bread and water.
I laugh and say did I so, I quite confide that my people would be about smuggling him into the kitchen, or conveying him treats, for they would consider it cruel to do otherwise. Sure I am not mistress in my own household.
Meg bursts out, O, are there really cows and sheep in Hyde Park? Or is it just one of Josh’s tales?
There are so. But indeed, my dears, mayhap you two could come to tea with me along with Miss N- some day soon, and we could go walk out in the Park a little if the weather be fine.
I am sure, says Bess, that it must be consider’d most instructive.
Indeed, says I, when one considers the very large demand for milk in Town, there must be cows to supply it. 'Tis no pretty masquerade of milkmaids like unto the late French Queen.
My best darling wild girl comes over to me. We kiss in social fashion. Are these wretch’d children bothering you? she asks. Sure all are a little over-excit’d at the moment by the move and the turmoil, I daresay things will settle down soon as we get into more regular ways.
I see from the faces about me that they all have most extreme wishes concerning the things they should like to be doing now they are come to Town: Josh I confide wishes to go to the menageries and visit the wombatt, Bess I daresay longs for the theatre, Meg for musick. I cannot hazard a guess at what Harry desires but I am sure there is something.
Sure, says I, might there not be time for a little diversion or so?
My dearest sighs. We are all quite exceeding divert’d without moving from R- House. His Lordship has been most extreme welcoming – has shown us round his fine stables, given us the entire run of the garden, offers the services of his fencing master do the boys wish to learn that art. What we require is a few calm days to become us’d to this new life.
Indeed, I say to them, you will be here for many months and there will be ample time to enjoy the delights of Town.
Josh groans and says, but they are still having to go back to school. Harry smacks him lightly on the head and says will they not have fine matter to tell to Bellairs and Jackson and the other fellows? Josh concedes that indeed they do and Bellairs will be like to dye of envy.
I look up and see that our dear Grand Turk is helping Flora to hold the bat as Milord bowls very gently to her. 'Tis quite the prettiest of sights.
Sandy comes out of the house and across the lawn and says that a fine luncheon has been laid does the company desire to come in and partake of it.
My darling tells the children that they must go in and wash and tidy themselves first. She goes to fetch Quintus and Flora for a like purpose. Flora I see is like to be stubborn until our dear Grand Turk picks her up and sets her on his shoulders.
Julius runs back to Roberts.
I bring up the rear of this exodus with Milord.
Sure 'tis a relief not to act our comedy for a little while, he remarks. I find I do not like being consider’d a faithless wretch and betraying scoundrel.
Indeed, I reply, I find my vanity painfully piqu’d by the supposition that I am a mistress scorn’d and cast away. Was a time that would have been most material to me, but even now, when sure 'tis of less moment, I imagine people whispering and glancing and I daresay reporting that of course Lady B- has quite gone off, and the whole business is only to be expect’d.
Dear C-, do you fish for compliments? You must know very well that you have not gone off in the slightest, and I confide that there are those that screw up their courage to advance a suit to you now that they suppose they need not fear a challenge from me.
O, fie! I cry, say you so? Sure I hope not.
We come to the door, and I think it prudent to toss my head a little as if in contempt, and go in a little in advance of Milord.
I enjoyed Alistair Reynolds' novella Slow Bullets very much, despite certain flaws, largely having to do with characterisation. The story itself is a compelling one. Scur, a former soldier, saved from a certain and horrifying death by a sudden ceasefire, falls unconscious from pain, and wakes up in a giant ship full of soldiers from both sides of the conflict, most of them war criminals, all being conveyed to their destination in hibernation.
Mysteries abound - why was she on the ship in the first place? Why are all the sleepers awakening prematurely? What planet are they orbiting? What happened to cause multiple malfunctions in the ship's programming and mechanical systems? Is there any way to keep the soldiers from re-igniting the war? How will Scur deal with the presence of the enemy soldier who tortured her? What must they do to survive?
The answers unfold, in surprising ways. Scur is a strongly realised, if somewhat unreliable protagonist - she insists that she was no war criminal, but if so, why is she on this ship, and why are there subtle anomalies in her "bullet" - a small memory storage device implanted in her chest that carries her personal records. It is in large part her decisions, her priorities, her memories and her need to resolve her unfinished business with her torturer that drive many of the key developments in the narrative. The other characters pale beside her - perhaps because this is clearly her personal narrative, and as it turns out, a narrative that will be her posterity.
Overall, a satisfying read with some interesting reflections on what drives people apart, and what holds them together.