Home Articles posted by KD Sarge (Page 8)

Organization is Good

My schedule makes me free. If I keep repeating that, I’ll come to believe it, right? >_> Well, here we are. It’s time once again for KD Sarge’s not-quite-yearly attempt to get organized. Falling, as usual, right after KD Sarge’s nearly-annual freakout about how little got done last year. Whee? Eventually, I believe, I’m going to get my carp together. It’s going to happen. I have faith. I’m back on the BuJo train again, but this time I’m staying away from Pinterest layouts and such. My bullet journal will never look like those, because that’s not what I want to spend my time on. If it reminds me of the things I need to remember when I need to remember them? That’s all I need from it. I’ll just save my pretty gel pens for my adult coloring books with pretty mandalas and swear words. And also Postcards to Voters. And my washi tape for…random craft projects because I totally do those. Yeah. I’ll figure something out, I’m sure. But the thing with my BuJo, which probably had something to do with my dropping it the last two times I tried, is that it can’t help me if I never open it. So I’ve got a schedule too. I wrote it on a chalkboard on my wall (large, because I am amazing at ignoring with singular attention anything I’m supposed to be doing, but obviously, the bigger it is the harder to ignore, so…) That’s for my after-work evenings, when…

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The Not-Fun of Traveling

By the time you read this, I’ll be visiting friends outside New York City for a week at Christmas. Lucky, lucky me. This is not, alas, a post how awesome a time I’m having in NYC. I am (wisely, IMHO) writing this before I leave home. Which means, this is a post on what a pain in the backside it is, prepping to cross the country for one flippin’ week. I love traveling. Let me rephrase that. I love having traveled. I love being in a new place, exploring, finding cool stuff, seeing new things–but I do not love having to travel to get to new places. I do not love commercial airlines, two-hour pre-flight security check-ins, measuring my bags to see if I have the right size luggage or need to go buy something, flying Christmas Eve and New Year’s Eve to save myself (a heckuva lot of) money. I do love car trips if there are cool things to see on the way and I can pull over and look closer if I want to. I do not love “you’ve got four days of vacation, three nights at awesome place NOW GET THERE IMMEDIATELY AND THEN GET BACK FASTER.” I don’t love packing. I don’t love peacekeeping between frazzled travel companions forced into close proximity for long periods of time. I don’t love the stress of being in charge when things (inevitably) go wrong. But I do love exploring new places, and to do that you have to…

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Christmas in the Movies

I’ll admit it–though in my household we celebrate Christmas, I’m not a big fan of a traditional holiday. Two of my favorite Christmas movies are Lethal Weapon and Die Hard. Every year my daughter and I spar over the purchase of a Christmas tree. I don’t bake cookies unless I really get the urge, and I don’t send cards pretty much ever (though I do buy cards on sale after Christmas, for stashing for that day I may somehow decide to send cards again…?) And–well, we live in Southern Arizona. We don’t get snow on Christmas. We don’t get snow pretty much ever. (I’ve lived here 30~ years. We’ve had snow…twice? In January both times.) I’ve never seen Miracle on 34th Street, and I’m pretty blah on White Christmas. But I’ve seen Home Alone 2. And Ghostbusters, and Muppets Take Manhattan, and Godzilla (1998), and Newsies, Sleepless in Seattle, Die Hard 3: With a Vengeance, Rumble in the Bronx, Spiderman, Avengers, Ally McBeal, Night at the Museum–what do all of these have in common? They’re set in New York City. Guess where I get to go for Christmas this year? I am So. Excited. There’s the little kid in me, who remembers watching the Macy’s parade every year. Skaters at Rockefeller Plaza, and there’s an awesome bridge in Central Park I remember from some movie, I don’t even know. There’s the young(ish) lover of every monster movie ever. “Negative impact! That’s the goddamn Chrysler Building!” There’s the writer, just drooling…

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Join the Party

Do you ever have one of those moments when it hits you–wow. It’s 2018. It’s been ___ years since ___. I’m having one of those moments. I can’t quite grasp that Turtleduck Press is almost eight years old. Wow. You work and you do and you focus, and suddenly you look up and you’ve been doing this awesome thing for eight years. I’m just a bit boggled by that. In eight years, we’ve published 21 books. At a story a month, minus months we published a book, that’s 8*12-21=75 (whoops, it’s not eight years until December, so) -2 = 73 free stories. That’s a lot of meetings and emails and collaboration and friendship and joy. Siri Paulson is a delight, y’all. She’s insightful and kind and a marvelous writer, as well as a brilliant editor. She’s had lots of practice at making me, in particular, look good, along with many other writers. Kit Campbell has a dry humor that makes me snort. She’s whip-smart and knowledgeable and a force for organization and foresight. In addition to her contributions to TDP, she edits and formats books. And as if all that weren’t enough, she writes awesome stories. Erin Zarro…what to say about Erin? Her stories are imaginative and full of characters you care about. Her poetry is full of feeling and power. She also edits freelance, in addition to her work with TDP. Erin herself is fun and interesting, just a sheer pleasure to have around. Why am I babbling on…

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Curiosity Killed the Cat – Part 2

Curiosity Killed the Cat A free fantasy serial by KD Sarge Part 2: Before a Closed Door (Read part 1 here) Jhi Bo heard a muffled shout and just knew it wasn’t the child she sought. It was Srivasi. He’d found trouble again. Somehow. Heaven’s truth, she thought, she should just leave him to the consequences, but she was already running as she thought it. The farm girl saw Jhi Bo running and shouted something, her face joyful, as she ran to intersect her path. Jhi Bo ran past her. The girl’s feet thudded behind her; the goats with their bells trotted after. In the middle of two stone-marked circles—multiple warnings, right there, that this place was important and should be left alone—in a dome of marble and glass surrounded by circles, Jhi Bo found nothing of Srivasi but the fading scent of his fear. The dome was glorious; the floor was smooth dirt, patterned and braided as if a river had run over it. In the center of the room stood a twisted pillar of marble with writing chasing over every surface. To Jhi Bo, it was another warning—probably go away, written in a number of scripts—but she knew it was just the thing to attract foolish Srivasi and his all-devouring curiosity. But then why wasn’t he still poring over it? The girl, Gerda, came into the dome, her eyes on the soaring pillar. The goats, wiser than their human, stayed outside. Gerda said something in a questioning tone. She might…

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Looking at Trees

In Western Pennsylvania where I grew up, you do not have to go out of your way to look at trees. Just on the farm my parents owned, a large blue spruce grew on one side of the driveway, and a stand of aspen on the other. In the front yard was a walnut tree, on the hill a black cherry tree, on another hill, three plum trees. Also on our thirty-five acres stood thirty-seven apple trees. (You might understand that as a child I learned to be picky about my fresh fruit. But this post is not about that. This post is about trees.) Ahem, yes. Trees. I grew up with trees everywhere. Though we had fields and pastures on the farm, they were divided by lines of trees. And the eastern half(ish) of the property was all trees. Real forest, that had been there forever–maples and oaks and elms and beeches and crabapple and choke-cherry and sassafras and– Trees. I loved them then. Now that I live in Southern Arizona, I love them more. Trees are so restful. Green and quiet, making the sunlight shimmer, home to birds and bugs and cute furry animals… I’m luckier now than I’ve been many times. I have mature, beautiful palm trees in my front yard. I have dwarf citrus trees in my back yard. I live across the street (practically) from a park with lots of big trees. That’s “lots” by Arizona standards. By Pennsylvania standards, that’s a pasture. So Sunday…

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Slumgullion

According to my research many moons ago, “slumgullion” is a stew kept on the back of the stove in a military kitchen. All the leftovers are tossed in, and someone who misses a meal because they are out on patrol or whatever can always be sure of a hot, if somewhat mysterious, filling meal. At least, that’s what I remember. I’m not looking it up. My point would be, oh look, KD is late posting again. Also, KD couldn’t think of anything to write about. So you get a slumgullion of hopefully tasty pictures from my phone to show you some of what I’ve been up to lately. (Except none of the work pics, because honestly, you don’t want to see the dripping ceiling or the broken door or the window or the wall or the–) So. I found this book at the library! It’s an Obama-Biden buddy mystery! The acknowledgement page said, “Thanks, Obama.” Heres a baby swallow who was hanging out at my work. He just decided he didn’t really care for this flying business, he was going to hang out in the shade on the ground, thank you very much. Eventually his parents did persuade him to try again. We can’t have a catch-all post without cat antics! Cat in a bag on the sin bin. Cat in the sun, like the glorious creature she is. Cat awaiting the Opening of the Door. It’s so cruel–she was locked out for perhaps two minutes while her human got…

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Back to School AAAHH

I work at a school. Last Thursday, my teachers came back. Next Thursday, my kids come back. My life gets pretty hectic this time of year. I love my teachers, my job, and my kids, but good lork. A conversation from today, in script form: Staff: Our smart board (basically a huge touch screen attached to a computer) doesn’t work. Me, bounding out of my chair to go have a look: Still? I reported it yesterday, and IT said they fixed it this morning. Staff: Oh, no, I hadn’t had the chance to check it today. (A short period of time passes) Staff: Our smart board still doesn’t work. Me: Did it work at all before it started back doing the thing? Staff: Oh, it’s not doing the same thing. Now it just comes up, says “no signal” and goes black. Me: That’s the monitor. The computer is off. Staff: What computer? Me: ~goes into classroom, turns computer on the back of the monitor on~ Time: ~passes~ SAME STAFF, at my desk again: Our keyboard and mouse don’t work for the smart board. Me: Did you check the batteries? Staff: First thing. Me: ~goes into classroom, checks motion of mouse, checks laser is not obstructed, notices mouse is not turned on, turns it on. Sees on/off switch on keyboard is also set to OFF, turns on. Turns glare on staff member.~ Staff: I…Diet Coke, right? Or dark chocolate? Me: Both. Don’t you think? Staff: …yeah. I do. The staff member…

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Best of Intentions

When I came home from work today, as I staggered in the door escaping the 100°+ heat and was met by the cat who must be greeted immediately or Bad Things Happen, the housemate called from her room, “Oh! You’re home. I…had intended to do the thing today.” She said this because I had asked her to do the thing today, as I reluctantly trudged out the door to work nine hours before. “I had the best of intentions!” she assured me. I laughed and asked, “What’s the name of that place, you know, the road is paved with intentions, but I forget…?” and we laughed and I went off to my room and sat down to do the thing that I’m supposed to do tonight at the latest–write a blog post for Turtleduck Press. And that, dear friends, is where my own intentions went astray, because instead of landing on Turtleduck Press, I got a 500 error. Well, blast. I’m not the girl who runs straight to tech support. I know my way around a cpanel, at least more than some. So off I went, looking for advice. Hadn’t touched any permissions or the .htaccess, not blinking likely too many processes were running but I checked anyway, error log blank (really?), so off I went to tech support after all. And as I sat waiting for the lovely tech support person* in the chat to check all the things I already checked, I jotted some notes about the blog…

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Finding the Right Book

I’m a writer. That means, among other things, that I have a To-Be-Read pile almost high enough to put satellites into low Earth orbit. It also means that I want more books. Always. Immediately. But I do try to contain myself. After all, I do have shelves and shelves of books, and nowhere to put another shelf. There’s also the guilt currently associated with buying books. A Christmas or two (or three) ago, my awesome roomie hunted down the last books of the Wheel of Time series for me. She bought me every story in the Temeraire series. She bought me two seasons of Agents of Shield, and two or three of Stargate Atlantis, several movies I’d mentioned wanting, other books she thought I would like…and I haven’t read most of them. I haven’t watched hardly any. I should! I want to! I just…haven’t. And she knows, because she lives with me. When I consider buying books or movies, she makes little barbed comments. So I was in a bookstore last week, and feeling all of the above plus the extra guilt of being in a bookstore with the person who bought me a lot of my unread-as-yet books (as well as unwatched-as-yet movies) when that person reads about a book a day or more and she works full time just like I do, and also writes… But…bookstore! You can’t go to a bookstore and just not buy books. Well, maybe you can, but i have a hard time with…

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