Oh hello
I have a mental logjam of Big Thinky Posts I want to write, so instead of any of those, a couple of stories I have really liked recently at Tor.com--they were both part of Dystopia Week, and were both about 100% more hopeful than I expected from that designation.
Ragnarok, by Paul Park. Because what the apocalypse really needs is an epic poem, edda-style.
Parse our lines upon the page:
Two beats, then pause.
Two more. Thumping heart,
Chopping axe, and again.
Shtetl Days by Harry Turtledove. Because even in a world where the Nazis won, and continue to win--even there, life goes on, and so does hope.
He knew the story about the dying bandit chief and the priest who urged him to forgive his enemies. Father, I have none, the old ruffian wheezed. I’ve killed them all.
Also, a couple of weeks ago, after I'd finished reading The Wise Man's Fear, having been spoiled (omg!) by the Penny Arcade comic about Kvothe's typical day, I tweeted my own thirteen words of Kvothe fanfic:
Kvothe doesn't always drink beer, but when he does, he prefers Dos Equis.
(The long discussion of why that really is fanfic and how it does the things that fanfic does and how it demonstrates that there are things you can only do with fanfic is one of the Big Thinky Posts I currently have jamming up my brain, but if nobody says otherwise I will just assume that you are all nodding sagely along with me there and I don't need to write it out and post it.)
Anyway, having written that, I cannot watch the following video without saying or at least thinking Hi, Bast! at 00:19. And thanks to the NHL Playoffs I have been seeing it a lot.
Ragnarok, by Paul Park. Because what the apocalypse really needs is an epic poem, edda-style.
Parse our lines upon the page:
Two beats, then pause.
Two more. Thumping heart,
Chopping axe, and again.
Shtetl Days by Harry Turtledove. Because even in a world where the Nazis won, and continue to win--even there, life goes on, and so does hope.
He knew the story about the dying bandit chief and the priest who urged him to forgive his enemies. Father, I have none, the old ruffian wheezed. I’ve killed them all.
Also, a couple of weeks ago, after I'd finished reading The Wise Man's Fear, having been spoiled (omg!) by the Penny Arcade comic about Kvothe's typical day, I tweeted my own thirteen words of Kvothe fanfic:
Kvothe doesn't always drink beer, but when he does, he prefers Dos Equis.
(The long discussion of why that really is fanfic and how it does the things that fanfic does and how it demonstrates that there are things you can only do with fanfic is one of the Big Thinky Posts I currently have jamming up my brain, but if nobody says otherwise I will just assume that you are all nodding sagely along with me there and I don't need to write it out and post it.)
Anyway, having written that, I cannot watch the following video without saying or at least thinking Hi, Bast! at 00:19. And thanks to the NHL Playoffs I have been seeing it a lot.
Click to view