Rose-Owls and Pumpkin Girls

I believe we've discussed this before, but: in the filk community, there is a man by the name of Bob Kanefsky. He is also a verb. To "be Kanef'd" is to have one of your songs gripped in the white-hot maw of his evil genius, chewed up, and spat out as something entirely different. If he and Weird Al Yankovic got into gonzo parody battle (probably in an abandoned warehouse somewhere, with lots of exposed beams and weirdly good lighting), Kanef would win with subtlety and horrifyingly accurate internal rhyme.

To be Kanef'd is a rite of passage in the filk community. It is the announcement that yes, you have made it as a songwriter; yes, you have created something good enough to be worth tinkering with.

The first time I was Kanef'd, I like to've died. Literally—I couldn't breathe. And as with most creative people, he's only improved since then. At the Circus on Saturday night, he launched a new parody at me, using Vixy and Tony as his delivery mechanism.

"I get paid to write a fairy tale:
Tinkerbell’s detective daughter,
Fourteen years of unread mail,
Like a fish out of the water..."

Oh, yeah. He went there.

"Deadline: About the Author" is set to the tune of "My Story Is Not Done," and contains spoilers for/references to the Newsflesh trilogy, the Toby Daye books, and Discount Armageddon. And it is hysterical.

Bob Kanefsky, I salute you.

I shall have my revenge.

It's been a while since I posted about the "Wicked Girls" posters. As I still have a lot of posters, and a lot of poster tubes, I thought it was time for another go. This is awesome. This will be more awesome if more people order posters, thus getting them Out Of My House. (This is the cycle of stuff, at least with me. I want stuff; I get excited about stuff; I get stuff; I do my best to make stuff go away AS FAST AS POSSIBLE.) Behold the poster thumbnail!



You can't really read the text at this size, but it's the full lyrics of "Wicked Girls Saving Ourselves." You can tell that the posters are absolutely gorgeous, thanks to the ever-wonderful graphic skills of my lovely lady Tara. They're 10" by 26", and I couldn't be happier with them.

The posters have a limited run of 500, which sounds like a lot, and yet is shrinking at a truly impressive rate. The first 100 are numbered and signed, because it seemed like an awesome thing to do. The posters aren't programmed into the ordering system on my website yet, and that's actually turning out to be a good thing, since it gives me flow control. If you wanted to order a poster, here's what you'd do:

1) Reply to this post with your email address, and how many posters you want, of which kind(s). Standard posters are $20, plus $5 for shipping and handling within the United States ($6 shipping and handling internationally). The signed/numbered posters are $25, plus shipping and handling.

2) I can fit up to three posters in a tube, going to the same place. So three to one location is cost of posters + $5, while three going to three locations would be cost of posters + $15.

3) Signed/numbered posters are extremely limited at this point, and I make no promises as to the number you will get. If you wanted a signed/numbered poster, I would recommend ordering it sooner than later.

4) I will email you to confirm the request, and to provide my PayPal information. I can only take personal PayPal (no credit cards), although we can discuss payment by check.

The posters are printed on sturdy, acid-free, recycled paper, and again, gorgeous. They also frame really, really nicely, as my living room wall can attest.

Yay for pretty things!

So—for a variety of reasons—I've had the song "Wicked Girls Saving Ourselves" stuck in my head for roughly a week now. This has started to drive me insane. Consequentially, I spent a good chunk of yesterday composing new verses, just so I'd be singing something different. I found this so entertaining that I've decided to make it a party game (yes, this is now officially a party). Give me a girl from folklore, myth, literature, or hell, modern media, and if I have a clue of who she is, I'll write a verse.

A few rules:

1. Fictional people only. Real people go in the bridge, and I already re-write that every time we do the song live.
2. One girl per customer.
3. Jean Grey is not eligible.
4. Don't make me come over there.

Game on!...and now, game off. I already have more than I can handle, and I can't handle no more. Thanks for all the great suggestions, and please don't provide any additional girls for consideration in today's admissions.

( Click here for the girls we've invited to join us so far. )

Don't be afraid of the pandemic flu;
Just take a few precautions, if you please.
There's plenty of things anybody can do,
Like covering your nose before you sneeze.

Please wash your hands with water and soap
Before you touch your dishes or your food.
Keeping things clean will help us to cope,
And careless virus vectors are just rude.

SPOKEN: "Viruses and bacteria are two different things. Antibacterial soap won't reduce your likelihood of catching the flu any more than plain soap, and may cause bacterial resistance. Stick with nice, plain soap."

( Water is good, you should drink it a lot... )

Yesterday, I...

...did a lot of fussing about, did a lot of reasonably important (if not entirely time-sensitive) email inbox cleanup, did some work on The Brightest Fell, and finally, attended a multi-hour rehearsal to get ready for my Guest of Honor concert at Conflikt II, as well as the house concert that I'm going to be performing in tomorrow night. If you're even remotely local, and have been considering attending either event, I highly recommend it. If you've never seen me live before, here's a nice quote from one of the conventions I've been featured at:

"Seanan wraps together deep, poetic lyrics and complex melodies, a soaring voice, and an exhilarating hold-nothing-back performance style."

See? Isn't that sweet? The house concert is actually a Vixy & Tony gig to which I have kindly been invited, and we're going to be doing some awesome stuff. We finally hit 'Tanglewood Tree' (a Dave Carter cover) at exactly the right angle last night. When I have tears in my eyes at the end of a rehearsal, that's when you know that you're doin' it right. And the convention, of course, is going to be one of my usual 'but what if we threw a concert and everybody came extravaganzas. I'm even packing the prom dress. Just in case.

Today, I...

...got out of bed, sat down, and wrote the first song of 2009 ('My Story Is Not Done'). To quote the lyrics:

I was born into a fairy tale,
Cinderella's dust-bin daughter.
Seemed like I was meant to fail,
Turning wine back into water,

Mama's slippers shattered when
She turned around to run,
But I never thought that mattered and
My story is not done.

My brain, ladies and gentlemen. Studies are even now underway. That done, I wrote three poems, updated my 'Velveteen vs.' continuity guide, and processed some edits to The Brightest Fell, which I'll get back to just as soon as I finish this entry. Once Fishy wakes up (allowing me access to my suitcase), I'll be getting dressed and going out for lunch with the wonderful folks from Team Seattle. And tonight, of course, we're rehearsing one more time for tomorrow's concert, in a setting which I have been promised will provide both ice cream and kittens. My life, so hard.

Tomorrow, I...

...will be appearing in the house concert I've been nattering on about so much above. Because love means never having to listen to me talk about one thing for all that long.

Hope everything is awesome in the worlds of you -- what's going on?

So it turns out that some people have been slightly confused by my insistence that the Black Death was not the bubonic plague. I can understand the confusion. This isn't a topic that most people spend a lot of time or energy thinking about. In fact, it's a topic that most people put a lot of energy into not thinking about. And, perhaps as a consequence, it's a topic that I can talk about for hours, all while giggling gleefully and waving my hands about over my head.

If you wonder why I don't think the Black Death was the source of the bubonic plague, I recommend checking out a book called The Return of the Black Death: the World's Greatest Serial Killer, by Susan Scott and Christopher Duncan. It's a gripping scientific and archeological case for questioning the origins of the greatest plague Europe has ever known.

Of course, it's possible that you don't really want to spend that much time reading about disease. I can understand that. Or maybe you just don't want to wait for the book to get to you. I can understand that, too. And so, in the grand tradition of Schoolhouse Rock, I have written a lovely song to teach you all about the Black Death.

You can thank me later.

( Click here for lyrics. You may be sorry if you don't. You may also be sorry if you do. But aren't you curious? )