poliphilo: (Default)
poliphilo ([personal profile] poliphilo) wrote2026-01-08 10:03 am

Staying Home

 I haven't gone into the Meeting House today. I'm tired but not particularly ill and reckon I could have hacked it. Thing is I'm almost certainly still contagious and it wouldn't have been friendly (Big F as well as small f) to share this virus.

Anyway, I'm not indispensable
tamaranth: me, in the sun (Default)
tamaranth ([personal profile] tamaranth) wrote2026-01-08 09:34 am
Entry tags:

2026/004: The Wood at Midwinter — Susanna Clarke

2026/004: The Wood at Midwinter — Susanna Clarke
All woods join up with all other woods.
    All are one wood.
        And in that wood all times join up with all other times.
            All is one moment. [loc. 140]

A short story, more beautifully calligraphed and illustrated in print (to judge by photos online) but still lovely on a Kindle. It's apparently set in the same world as Jonathan Strange and Mr Norrell*, but I didn't spot any overlap, and it certainly doesn't require familiarity with the earlier, much longer work.

Ysolde Scott has devised a cunning stratagem: she'll arrange visits, and let her sister Merowdis -- possibly a saint, possibly neurodivergent, possibly just antisocial -- alight en route and spend time in the woods, where she is happiest. Read more... )

the_comfortable_courtesan: image of a fan c. 1810 (Default)
the_comfortable_courtesan ([personal profile] the_comfortable_courtesan) wrote2026-01-08 08:37 am

Choices (4)

How very agreeable matrimony could be

Cecil, Baron Rondegate, had never imagined how very agreeable matrimony could be! Had quite conceded that 'twas the dutiful thing to do, and that moreover his mother would not cease from badgering him and fretting him over imagined dangers until he married and was in the way to beget offspring, so had determined to be about it. Perchance it had a deal to do with Zipsie – Zipporah, daughter of Lord Abertyldd – that he found himself in great amity with.

A woman of quite remarkable musical talents, beyond even the rest of the Parry-Lloyds, that were greatly noted in that art. They were also able to share amuzement over the quizzes they were obliged to encounter in Society; had similar taste in friends; &C&C. Had also come about to consider that perchance – it must make a difference, this matter of mutual affection? – he had previously quite failed to appreciate that there were charms in womanhood. For had supposed himself entirely inclined to his own sex. But indeed, he found it no onerous task to discharge the conjugal debt.

And her family so very welcoming and agreeable.

He was at present bound to call upon his father-in-law, for it was coming to seem as if the suspicions that Zipsie went with child were becoming more definite as time passed. Having no father or near male relative of his own to consult, fancied that his best course was to confide in the amiable Lord Abertyldd as to the proper way to conduct himself in this contingency. For one perceived that he must have had a deal of experience, as the father of a numerous brood and his lady being in fine flourishing health.

As was ever the case, Bexbury House was full of noises, sounds and sweet airs – somebody always practising or playing about the place, the most delightful thing – he patted his pockets to make sure he had sweetmeats about him for Lotty and Gianna, that had adopted him as another brother – here came Folly – Folliott – down the magnificent staircase, and yet again endeavoured to persuade him to come sailing – 'tis quite the finest sport!

Count Casimir, husband of Zipsie’s aunt Dodo, drifted past, observed who it was, paused, made most enthusiastic over Zipsie’s plans for her mother’s birthday treat – very gratifying: the Polish Count, whose surname English tongues – save for that of Lord Gilbert Beaufoyle, that had been observing quite chattering in Polish with the exiled Count – could not encompass, was agreed a very fine musician indeed.

Cecil said that he would convey this accolade to Zipsie, and managed to start up the staircase just before Lotty and Gianna came in from their morning ride, and showed a great disposition to rehearse their duet for him – Cluck, Cluck: Cheep, Cheep – even before changing out of their riding-habits. They were persuaded that this could wait.

On the landing he encountered Lady Abertyldd, ivory tablets in her hand and with an air of preoccupation, that in another woman might have been harried, but she looked at him and gave a little laugh, saying, this election set all in disorder! Upset all arrangements – here they were, obliged to go down to Hembleby exceeding early – everyone sending apologies that they too are obliged to go into the country and must cut existing engagements – could not prognosticate at all whether there might be any cricket played this summer or not –

One had the entirest impression that she had all well under hand!

He mentioned that he hoped to convoke with his father-in-law, and she immediately summoned up a footman to take him, where he had failed to see one at all.

Lord Abertyldd, that was in convocation with his secretary, as they gazed upon the piles of papers covering his desk, looked exceeding relieved to see Cecil. Hulloa, Rondegate!  - all well with Zipsie, I hope – Mander, do you take that pile and try to make some sense of it and see do we need to take any of it to Hembleby –

Instructed the footman to bring coffee, waved Cecil into a chair and sighed that certainly the present Government was doing no good at all, but this election was being a great bore. Did Cecil have any intention of going down to Wepperell Larches – ?

As the coffee arrived – very grateful! – he said that he thought he might go himself for a se’ennight or so, but was not sure that 'twas prudent to expose Zipsie to the journey and the trials of going about in the local society once there –

Abertyldd cleared his throat and said, sure, Charley had said somewhat of the state of affairs –

We feel somewhat more confident that matters are in that happy condition – but sure Zipsie feels rather sickly from time to time – inclined to sleepiness –

O, quite! 'Tis entirely proper to coddle one’s wife at such a time – indulge any whims or cravings –

That was entirely the advice I wished for – am perchance a little concerned that Zipsie may overdo somewhat with this cantata she has on hand and other musical matters –

Indeed that might be a worry! But I fancy she will find that she needs to rest – nature has its ways – a little healthful exercize is commended by the profession I apprehend, mayhap walking in that very fine square? 'Twould do no harm to consult Ferraby –

You would give him the preference?

Why, I must always consider that a Ferraby will be the crack fellow in the field! Have heard Asterley cried up, but in your case, cannot but suppose it helps is the quack a married man himself.

Cecil was indeed reluctant to call upon the services of a physician, however widely praised, that he knew as a fellow-member of that certain club – that he realized had not visited this while, indeed marriage was working something of a revolution! Responded to Lord Abertyldd that indeed, one understood that Ferraby was married and a proud father himself, conveyed a certain reassurance.

Of course, 'twas his mother that was quite noted for her wisdom over womanly matters – a sad loss –

Cecil said that he greatly regretted never having known the senior Ferrabys – relatives of Lady Bexbury he understood –

Lord, she is still a fine woman, but you should have seen her in her heyday! Abertyldd cleared his throat, and said, was that all the business Rondegate had with him, supposed he ought to get back to this tedious election matter.

So Cecil left, and was waylaid by Gianna and Lotty, to hear their duet, and distributed the sweetmeats he had about him. Managed to evade any further entanglements and went home.

Where he found the agreeable sight of Zipsie, looking very well, in the music-room with Cuthbert Davison, amiably arguing over how one might convert Persian music for English ears –

Fie, husband, here is Mr Davison declares that he will no longer linger amid the delights of Town but must return to Oxford –

Really, said Davison, I have had the finest convocation with Her Grace over this new manuscript she has acquired, do not wish to wear out my welcome at Mulcaster House –

Why, you would be ever welcome here! cried Zipsie, and then blushed. La, 'tis a habit from Bexbury House, that is quite Liberty Hall –

Cecil chuckled and said, but let him second that invitation –

Davison shook his head, saying, 'twas also a consideration that his fellow dons at Oxford gossiped like old hens at a tea-party and did he spend too long in Town 'twould have tongues wagging that he was glamoured by the tinsel show

Tiresome! said Zipsie, gathering up the music, closing the pianoforte, and generally bustling about. Well, at least I hope you will stay to dinner, that I go change for, so as not to shock my maid –

She left the two men alone.

Davison walked over the window, looked out and sighed. Lady Rondegate is a wonderful and talented woman, and I greatly enjoy our convocations, but I am coming to a conclusion that I must give them up.

What?

He turned round. I hope you are not anticipating that I am about to disclose in some commonplace way that I have fallen in love with her. No, the matter is that I do have a considerable liking for her and would not in the least afflict her happiness, but that I find myself having fallen into quite the warmest feelings for you, Rondegate.

He sighed. So I had better go away. I am not sure I can contrive to travel to Persia but there is a savant in Berlin that I might visit –

My dear chap, said Cecil, finding his heat beating strangely fast, pray do not do anything quite so drastic.

He had supposed his recent lack of interest in going to the club for any purpose save to encounter friends such as Sallington was to do with the upheaval to his life caused by matrimony and the rather surprising pleasures thereof.

But had not he, too, been finding a warm friendship with Davison, that had become in a very short space of time quite a familiar of the household? Had he not found him a very agreeable companion? A fellow of considerable attractions?

Did he not, now that he came to think upon it, find those mercenary encounters he used to enjoy at the club a somewhat stale prospect? Did one not, really, desire something more? Did he not observe that there were those that came to enjoy fine mutual devotions? Indeed, one perceived that his mentors, Narthing and Carolden, entire had the like.

One also saw that there were those that contrived to enjoy such devotions and a happy marriage – or, whatever it was that Sallington had with the fiery Miss Ferraby! That was clearly no common matter of a mistress in keeping.

Let us, Cecil went on, consider upon this matter – seek the wisdom of older friends –

Davison confided that he had had quite the soundest counsel from MacDonald –

Merrett I fancy would have some apprehension of the predicament –

They exchanged tentative smiles.

But, said Davison, I fancy 'twould be imprudent to take up lodging here until we go clarify our notions somewhat further.

That was, alas, reasonable.


Rachel Neumeier ([syndicated profile] rachelneumeier_feed) wrote2026-01-08 06:11 am

Poetry Thursday: The Raven, and Parodies

Posted by Rachel

I quite like “The Raven,” but it does seem to lend itself to parodies. Let’s start with the original and then take a look at a few parodies …

The Raven

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
“‘Tis some visitor,” I muttered, “tapping at my chamber door-
Only this, and nothing more.”

Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December,
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
Eagerly I wished the morrow;- vainly I had sought to borrow
From my books surcease of sorrow- sorrow for the lost Lenore-
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore-
Nameless here for evermore.

And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
Thrilled me- filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating,
“‘Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door-
Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door;-
This it is, and nothing more.”

Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
“Sir,” said I, “or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;
But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,
And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,
That I scarce was sure I heard you”- here I opened wide the door;-
Darkness there, and nothing more.

Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering,
fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortals ever dared to dream before;
But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token,
And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, “Lenore!”
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, “Lenore!”-
Merely this, and nothing more.

Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,
Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.
“Surely,” said I, “surely that is something at my window lattice:
Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore-
Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore;-
‘Tis the wind and nothing more.”

Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and
flutter,
In there stepped a stately raven of the saintly days of yore;
Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed
he;
But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door-
Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door-
Perched, and sat, and nothing more.

Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore.
“Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou,” I said, “art sure no
craven,
Ghastly grim and ancient raven wandering from the Nightly shore-
Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night’s Plutonian shore!”
Quoth the Raven, “Nevermore.”

Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,
Though its answer little meaning- little relevancy bore;
For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being
Ever yet was blest with seeing bird above his chamber door-
Bird or beast upon the sculptured bust above his chamber door,
With such name as “Nevermore.”

But the raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only
That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.
Nothing further then he uttered- not a feather then he fluttered-
Till I scarcely more than muttered, “other friends have flown
before-
On the morrow he will leave me, as my hopes have flown before.”
Then the bird said, “Nevermore.”

Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,
“Doubtless,” said I, “what it utters is its only stock and store,
Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful Disaster
Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore-
Till the dirges of his Hope that melancholy burden bore
Of ‘Never- nevermore’.”

But the Raven still beguiling all my fancy into smiling,
Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird, and bust and
door;
Then upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking
Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore-
What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt and ominous bird of yore
Meant in croaking “Nevermore.”

This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing
To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom’s core;
This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining
On the cushion’s velvet lining that the lamplight gloated o’er,
But whose velvet violet lining with the lamplight gloating o’er,
She shall press, ah, nevermore!

Then methought the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer
Swung by Seraphim whose footfalls tinkled on the tufted floor.
“Wretch,” I cried, “thy God hath lent thee- by these angels he
hath sent thee
Respite- respite and nepenthe, from thy memories of Lenore!
Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe and forget this lost Lenore!”
Quoth the Raven, “Nevermore.”

“Prophet!” said I, “thing of evil!- prophet still, if bird or
devil!-
Whether Tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,
Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted-
On this home by horror haunted- tell me truly, I implore-
Is there- is there balm in Gilead?- tell me- tell me, I implore!”
Quoth the Raven, “Nevermore.”

“Prophet!” said I, “thing of evil- prophet still, if bird or
devil!
By that Heaven that bends above us- by that God we both adore-
Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn,
It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels name Lenore-
Clasp a rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore.”
Quoth the Raven, “Nevermore.”

“Be that word our sign in parting, bird or fiend,” I shrieked,
upstarting-
“Get thee back into the tempest and the Night’s Plutonian shore!
Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!
Leave my loneliness unbroken!- quit the bust above my door!
Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my
door!”
Quoth the Raven, “Nevermore.”

And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon’s that is dreaming,
And the lamplight o’er him streaming throws his shadow on the
floor;
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
Shall be lifted- nevermore!

***

***

The Pole-Cat

By the fire-side I was sitting, and my wife she was a knitting,

And a new heel she was fitting, to a stocking half worn out:

Joe was in the chimney corner, spelling how young Jacky Horner

Ate the plum, which from the pie his greedy fingers had torn out—

Plum, from out the Christmas pie, by him so greedily torn out:

This our Josey was about. …

*

Click through to read the whole thing.

***

***

The Goblin-Goose

Once, it happened I’d been dining, on my couch I slept reclining,

And awoke with moonlight shining brightly on my bedroom floor;

It was in the bleak December, Christmas night as I remember,

But I had no dying ember, as Poe had; when near the door,

Like a gastronomic goblin just beside my chamber door,

Stood a bird, — and nothing more. …

*

Click through to read the whole thing.

***

***

The Craven

Once upon a midnight lately, might be seen a figure stately,

In the Tuileries sedately poring over Roman lore;

Annotating, scheming, mapping, Caesar’s old positions sapping,

When there came a something rapping, spirit-rapping at the door.

“’Tis some minister,” he muttered, “come, as usual, me to bore.”

So to Caesar turned once more. …

*

Click through to read the whole thing.

And many, many more parodies here. It turns out that “The Raven” was instantly successful and popular and tons of Poe’s contemporaries picked it up and wrote parodies, homages, pastiches, and so on.

Please Feel Free to Share:

Facebooktwitterredditpinterestlinkedintumblrmail

The post Poetry Thursday: The Raven, and Parodies appeared first on Rachel Neumeier.

monksandbones: The legs of two curlers, one delivering a yellow rock, one waiting with a broom, text "rock" (rock)
monksandbones ([personal profile] monksandbones) wrote2026-01-07 09:56 pm

(no subject)

I just got back from the first curling game (and post-game beer) of the second half of the season for my Wednesday night Open League, and I have to do some dishes and go to bed very soon, but I must sneak in a little entry for today's [community profile] snowflake_challenge challenge #4 before I go.

Alas for the curling, my team lost. I made some shots, but overall I didn't play very well. Hopefully soon I'll get all the bad shots out of my body, and in the meantime, I'll dine on the sick shot I made to win our game for my Rookie League team last Sunday. Possibly I'm going to have to go to open practice ice one of these Saturdays, though!

Anyway, [community profile] snowflake_challenge. Challenge #4 is: Challenge #4: Rec The Contents Of Your Last Page

Any website that you like, be it fanfiction, art, social media, or something a bit more eccentric!


My last page, before I got to the challenge entry on my reading page, was the Greater Victoria Public Library page, where I was checking my position on the hold list for Heated Rivalry. I'm up to #2. Fingers crossed for this weekend! For most of you, my local library will not be your local library, and I'm sure I hardly need to say this for this crowd, but I do recommend your local library!

My other recommendations, perhaps at the "something a bit more eccentric" end of things, are some curling go-tos. For curling scores from all the events (ALL THE EVENTS) and rankings for all the teams with word curling rankings (ALL THE TEAMS), there's Curlingzone. Are their news reports up to date? No! Is their website user-friendly? Also no! But are the scores for, again, ALL THE EVENTS and rankings for again, ALL THE TEAMS there? OH HELL YES!

Also, for pro curling, there's the Grand Slam of Curling website, bringing you media and live and on-demand streaming from the Grand Slam of Curling pro curling tour, and the soon-to-be pro curling Rock League!
redbird: closeup of me drinking tea, in a friend's kitchen (Default)
Redbird ([personal profile] redbird) wrote2026-01-08 12:53 am

new year, new insurance

I gave Capsule my new insurance information, and then had them deliver a prescription.

I will need/use the inhaler, but this is also confirmation that yes, I (still) have prescription drug coverage.

Other than that, not a great day. Fingertips are improving, but I had a sudden nosebleed while sitting quietly on the couch an hour ago. *sigh*
settiai: (Fail -- iconzicons)
Lynn | Settiai ([personal profile] settiai) wrote2026-01-08 12:34 am
Entry tags:

Aurendor D&D

To add to a previous posts on the subject, my cleric, Siân, has had a really, really, really bad couple of weeks in-game. Over the course of the last three weeks or so, she has:

A list of bad things under the cut. )

Poor Siân really is well on her way towards a complete and total mental breakdown at the rate she's going.
highlander_ii: Chris Pine wearing jeans, kneeling on the ground ([ChrisP] 002)
Highlander II ([personal profile] highlander_ii) wrote in [community profile] fan_flashworks2026-01-08 12:14 am

no fandom : icons : Sand

Title: Sand
Fandom: none
Rating: G
Content notes: None apply
Summary: icons of sand, sand dunes, sandy beaches


Sand )
settiai: (Siân -- settiai)
Lynn | Settiai ([personal profile] settiai) wrote2026-01-08 12:10 am
Entry tags:

Aurendor D&D: Summary for 1/7 Game

In tonight's game, the rest under a cut for those who don't care. )

And that's where we left off.
ranunculus: (Default)
ranunculus ([personal profile] ranunculus) wrote2026-01-07 08:45 pm

Sun, Garden, Health

The sun has finally returned, which is very exciting.  It is SO wet out there. Season to date is now 21 inches (150% of normal for this date). 
The sunny days allowed  garden cleanup to continue.  Which is very much needed. Sheesh, it is the beginning of January and there is grass going to seed! As usual the pink rose is blooming instead of going dormant. Pulling grass out of the soggy clay is a chore, but otherwise the garden is just going to disappear.  Quite a lot of evidence that the voles are still around. Grrrr.
Did a quick trip over to Fort Bragg so Richard could fix the things that hurt in my back and neck.  Also he fixed my left foot.  A few days ago I slid and fell going down a terribly steep hillside in the semi-dark. The fall didn't hurt at all but it did mess with my foot. The slip pushed the cuboid bone in my foot just slightly out of kilter.  It hasn't hurt a lot, just been a little ouchy at times. Took Richard about 1 minute to put it back in place.  I'm under strict orders to warm my foot up (and strengthen it) by pointing my toes in and up, then down and out, before getting up from bed or after sitting for a while. 
Once back from Fort Bragg  I cut pieces of what the English call "fleece" for the garden.  It is supposed to be right down to freezing tonight, and a couple of degrees below freezing tomorrow.  Amazingly enough I have peppers still chugging along!  I think they will get through the cold and really enjoy the 70F weather that is supposed to be on the way.  Also covered one of the two lemon trees (I'll cover the other one tomorrow).  The lime tree has gone into the greenhouse.  The fava beans and collard greens should be fine.  Speaking of collard greens, I find my self really liking Champion.  I still like the old Vates plants too. Both are under serious attack from slugs this year.  I've picked dozens of slugs off the plants.  I blame the rain.

cofax7: John and Aeryn: it's braver sometimes just to run (FS - LGM Braver)
cofax7 ([personal profile] cofax7) wrote2026-01-07 07:58 pm
Entry tags:

reading wednesday

Currently reading: The Virgin in the Ice, Ellis Peters. Not really intentionally, but last week I discovered that Hoopla has at least a few Brother Cadfael novels, unabridged, narrated by Patrick Tull. Patrick Tull is one of my two favorite narrators -- the other being Stephen Briggs. Tull narrated the whole Aubrey-Maturin series, which is how I came to adore him. He's so VERY good. Anyway, listening to him describe Brother Cadfael riding a horse through a snowstorm is a good way to manage my stress these days.

I'm also rereading Acuteneurosis' Don't Look Back Star Wars time-travel AU, in which Leia goes back in time and gets adopted by Shmi just before the Clone Wars start. It's similarly soothing, even if so far unfinished.

... so many unfinished SW AUs. Sigh.

!!! but wait! somehow my subscription expired? there's a whole new story! YAY!!

Just finished: The Leper of St Giles, see above. Also, over the holidays I read Cahokia Jazz by Henry Spufford, and although I went in cautiously, I enjoyed it. It's very much a noir novel, and apparently I didn't read it carefully enough to figure out the trigger for the AU. And I thought throwing Kroeber into the mix was a bit too much. A real strong piece of worldbuilding about the city itself. Sadly the noirishness meant that the female characters didn't get as much development as I would have liked. I enjoyed it over all, though, and have recommended it to a few people.

Up next: Not sure. I may see if I can find a copy of The Women of the Copper Country, by Mary Doria Russell. I somehow missed it when it was published, and I have loved some of her work.

OTOH I bought A Memory Called Empire by Arkady Martine and The West Passage by Jared Pechacek over the holidays, so I may start one of those instead.

***

In other news, apparently it's a thing to reread LOTR and blog about it. Currently under way: Abigail Nussbaum at Asking the Wrong Questions, and Roseanna from Nerds of a Feather. Oh, and Jared Pechacek--but that's on his Patreon; it's $1/mo, so I joined, and if anyone cares I can report on whether I think it's worth it.

***

Everything is too horrible right now. Keep the lights on. Hug your pups and kittens. Make things. Sing. Dance. Drink water. Breathe deep. Lift heavy things. Remember you are not alone. Ask for help if you need it.

***

In other news, I think my boss is worried about me. In an I-am-making-my-stress-too-obvious way. I'm so grateful we have him, and I'm worried about what happens when he transfers this summer.
james_davis_nicoll: (Default)
james_davis_nicoll ([personal profile] james_davis_nicoll) wrote2026-01-07 11:36 pm

Sigma

Remember Sigma?

Was there ever a membership list made public?
fanweeklymod: (Default)
FandomWeekly Mod ([personal profile] fanweeklymod) wrote in [community profile] fandomweekly2026-01-07 10:40 pm

[#286 | Working Together] Challenge Post

Challenge 286:
WORKING TOGETHER
Some things can’t be done alone. Maybe it’s a project that needs multiple pairs of hands to make it work, maybe it’s a long-term quest to save the world that’s going to require a lot of people and a lot of skillsets, or maybe it’s as simple as a cat that needs at least two people to corral her into a carrier to go to the vet; whatever it is, it’s going to need some people to work together.

How are your characters at working together? Does it come naturally to them, or do they struggle? What are they working together for?

Write a story about working together.

BONUS GOAL: “You’re not alone.”

If your submission features this line, it will earn an extra point to be tallied in voting!


Challenge ends Monday, January 12 at 9:00PM EST.
• Post submissions as new entries using the template in the profile
• Tag this week's entries as: [#] submission, 286 – working together
• If you have questions about this challenge, please ask them here

landofnowhere: (Default)
Alison ([personal profile] landofnowhere) wrote2026-01-07 07:48 pm
Entry tags:

wednesday books

The Lamp and The Bell, Edna St. Vincent Millay, 1921. Readaloud. This is a blank verse play that Millay wrote for a Vassar College reunion -- she enrolled at age 21 after having launched her career as a poet, and caused lots of trouble by not being a proper young lady. (A previous version of this post claimed she wrote it as a student, but actually it was 4 years after graduation.) I'd been wanting to read this play aloud for a while, and enjoyed doing it! It inevitably invites comparisons to both Shakespeare and the best of Millay's poetry, and comes up short, but it's still very good at being what it is, which is a fairy-tale-ish melodrama revolving around the romantic friendship between two stepsisters.

Audrey Lane Stirs the Pot and Rosaline Palmer Takes the Cake, Alexis Hall. I really liked Hall's Regency romances narrated by Puck and The Affair of the Mysterious Letter, but hadn't gotten into Hall's contemporary romance -- but then I was recommended Audrey Lane, which is the third in Hall's series set on a thinly disguised version of The Great British Baking Show. This one is an f/f romance between a contestant and the showrunner (nothing happens until after after it stops being a conflict of interest). There's some nice reality show meta, in that our POV character's day job is as a journalist, so she sees the show from a more media-savvy lens even before she starts dating the showrunner. I liked it enough to go back and read Rosaline Palmer, which plays the reality TV show storyline more straight. I haven't read the second book in the series, which I've been warned is all about the protagonist's anxiety, but might eventually read it anyway.

Alien Clay, Adrian Tchaikovsky. I bought this one along with Cage of Souls when I was in Edinburgh almost 2 years ago, and read Cage of Souls on the airplane because it was the paperback, and then set this aside because I didn't want to read two Adrian Tchaikovsky books in a row. (Also it wasn't out yet in the US so I didn't have as many people to discuss it with.) Finally coming back to it now, but not far enough into it yet to say much.
fanweeklymod: (Default)
FandomWeekly Mod ([personal profile] fanweeklymod) wrote in [community profile] fandomweekly2026-01-07 10:29 pm

[#285 | Fresh Start] Results Post

Here are this week's votes tallied, and below the cut are our winners for Challenge #285 – Fresh Start!

This week's finalists are... )

Total Challenge Words Written: 2992

Congratulations to both of you, and thank you to everyone who took the time to cast their votes! [personal profile] autobotscoutriella will be making this week’s banners, so keep an eye out for those next week.

You may now post your Challenge 285 entries to any additional communities, blogs, archives or sites as you'd like! We also have a FandomWeekly AO3 Collection if you'd like to add your stories there!