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Wednesday, June 24, 2009

Looking for entries for the next Storyblogging Carnival
The next Storyblogging Carnival wil be the one hundredth and first. It will be hosted here, at Back of the Envelope, and going up on Monday, July 5th. If you use your blog to share your fiction, then the Storyblogging Carnival is your opportunity. Here we host any and all forms of storytelling in blog format. If you're curious about what this looks like, have a look at some examples of previous storyblogging carnivals.

If you'd like to participate, please e-mail your story submissions to me at dscrank-at-alum-dot-mit-dot-edu (or post in my comments), including the following information:
  • Name of your blog
  • URL of your blog
  • Title of the story
  • URL for the blog entry where the story is posted
  • (OPTIONAL) Author's name
  • (OPTIONAL) A suggested rating for adult content (G, PG, PG-13, R)
  • A word count
  • A short blurb describing the story

The post may be of any age, from a week old to years old. The submission deadline is 11:59 PM Eastern time on Saturday, July 4th. More detailed information follows (same as always):
  1. The story or excerpt submitted must be posted on-line as a blog entry, and while fiction is preferred, non-fiction storytelling is acceptable.
  2. The story can be any length, but the Carnival will list them in order of length, from shortest to longest, and include a word count for each one.
  3. You may either send a complete story, a story in progress, or a lengthy excerpt. You should indicate the word count for both the excerpt and the complete story in the submission, and you should say how the reader can find more of the story in the post itself.
  4. If the story spans multiple posts, each post should contain a link to the beginning of the story, and a link to the next post. You may submit the whole story, the first post, or, if you've previously submitted earlier posts to the Carnival, the next post which you have not submitted. Please indicate the length of the entire story, as well as the portion which you are submitting.
  5. The host has sole discretion to decide whether the story will be included or not, or whether to indicate that the story has pornographic or graphically violent content. The ratings for the story will be decided by the host. I expect I'll be pretty lenient on that sort of thing, but I have some limits, and others may draw the line elsewhere. Aside from noting potentially offensive content, while I may say nice things about stories I like, I won't be panning anyone's work. I expect other hosts to be similarly polite.
  6. The story may be the blogger's own or posted with permission, but if it is not his own work he should gain permission from the author before submitting to the Carnival.

If you'd like to be added to the e-mail list, please let me know. Finally, I appreciate folks promoting the carnival on their own blogs, and I'm always looking for bloggers willing to host future carnivals.

Tuesday, June 2, 2009

Storyblogging Carnival C
Welcome to the one hundredth Storyblogging Carnival! Exciting, huh? I'm not going to say a lot about the carnival right now--I'll save that for later this week. For now, let's get on with the entries.


Doc Mockery
by Madeleine Begun Kane of Mad Kane's Humor Blog
A less than 100 word brief story rated PG.

Story limerick about a doctor/patient conversation.


Kosher
by Marco Kaufman of The Big Book of Grievances
A 159 word brief story rated PG.

An old woman comes to a new discovery


The History of the Domini: Part VI (Whole story)
by David Derrick of Back of the Envelope
The next 549 words of a 3,393 word continuing story rated PG.

With the humans and Amaranthine victorious over the Malwer, the fragile alliance among the Shades quickly breaks down.


Bruno the Escape Artist
by David Derrick of Wildlife Art of David G. Derrick Jr.
A 633 word brief story rated PG.

"Bruno the escape artist sounds like a great stage name for a Hungarian magician in a traveling circus. Bruno has thick flowing orange-red hair giving him a stage presence that would make even Houdini envious. Bruno, however, is not an actor or an escape artist in a traveling circus. He is an Orangutan but he is an escape artist."


Void
by Myles O'Neill of Dreams In Vitro
A 864 word brief story rated PG.

Void is a short story about the philosophy of the cosmos. What will the end of the world be like?


Greeting
by Kate Addict of The Ficticious Tales of Isis
A 936 word brief story rated NC-17.

Isis makes an appearance and gets more than she bargained for.


When Your Field School Goes into the Toilet
by Greg Laden of Quiche Moraine
A 1,500 word short story rated PG.

A piece of scrap paper, international travel, advanced technology, and complexities of interpersonal relationships converge to produce the ultimate spit-take.


Disquieting Postcards I’ve Recently Received from My Future Self
by Mark Rayner of The Skwib
A 990 word brief story rated PG-13.

In which a future me sends me disturbing reports of what to expect, and how I mess with him ... me ... well, you get the picture.


First Day of the New Dodge
by Andrew Ian Dodge of Dodgeblogium
A 1,151 word short story rated PG.

Fresh from finishing the first draft to his next novel, Andrew decided to write this tongue-in-cheek tale about his first day should he be given "Dodge" cars to run.


A Hole in the Sky: Part I
by Doc Rampage of Doc Rampage
A 1,524 word short story rated G.

Three people driving through northern Arizona in a 6-wheel drive all-terrain super-flex-fuel serial-hybrid amphibious military scout vehicle with custom luxury outfitting investigate an unusual weather phenomenon.


An Autobiography of My Descent--Part I
by Asmoday of The Asmoday Experiment
A 3,773 word short story rated R.

Because of my adoption, and having to dig out my own roots like a self-archaeologist, I learned more about myself through my birth than most. I'd like to share the story with you here.


Brains vs. Brawn
by Phronk of Phronk
A 3,893 word short story rated PG.

An autobiographical tale that grew out of describing my experience buying my first car, then realizing the story could use some spicing up. So I added in Bigfoot. It's still totally true, though.






This concludes the one hundredth Storyblogging Carnival.

If you'd like to take part in a future carnival, please contact me. I am also looking for hosts. Other carnivals can be found here.

The Storyblogging Carnival can be found at The Truth Laid Bear's ÜberCarnival.

Saturday, May 30, 2009

The History of the Domini: Part VI
The Rest of the Story: The rest of The History of the Domini can be found here.

This is the first chapter of the second half of Randall Aurelius's History of the Domini. While the first half discusses the origins of the Domini, and their part in the great war to free humanity from enslavement, the second half discusses what happened once humanity was free. The Domini's role in shaping the world is often forgotten, but it was much larger than is usually acknowledged.


The History of the Domini
by Randall Aurelius


Part VI: The Schism

With the Malwer imprisoned and the Amaranthine isolated, the humans began to make a life for themselves, and the Shades tried to find their place among them. There was little agreement among the Shades, and they quickly split into dozens of sects, maybe hundreds, each with its own objectives.

Some of the Shades thought that our main duty was to guard the imprisoned Malwer. They built a fortress named Overwatch near the prison, and called themselves the Watchers. They led an aesthetic life, isolated from the rest of humankind, using magic to make themselves self-sufficient. Others followed their path, seeking isolation and self-sufficiency, even if they refused the burden of the Watchers. These were among the most successful in finding a quiet life, but most of them died out within a generation. They had no means to reproduce, and most did not attempt to recruit. The Watchers were the longest lasting of these groups, since many Shades recruited and trained by the other sects were attracted by their sense of calling, and most of the sects would allow their members to make the pilgrimage to Overwatch and join them.

Others attempted to give up the black robe. It became apparent rather quickly that the mundanes, as we called humans without the magic, would not accept us into their fold. Any man who was known to have been a Shade found hatred and intolerance, and many were driven out of their communities or killed. Only those who hid their history could survive, but it is believed that many did successfully integrate themselves with mundane society, living and dying among them.

There were others who sought a middle ground, who tried to live apart from mundanes, yet not be entirely isolated. They recruited as they had before, taking young men secretly and without warning, so they could be trained in the magic. Occasionally, they traded with the mundanes, although this was difficult given how little they were trusted. Thus, they too had to seek self-sufficiency. But because they still recruited, they were able to survive while the completely isolated sects died out.

The last and worst were those who thought we should rightfully rule over the mundanes, using our magic to seek power over them. These groups would make themselves into a ruling class, recruiting others with magical ability and, by sharing power with them, perpetuate their power. But those seeking power are not easily appeased, and what one man can take another will covet. These groups went to war with each other and with the less aggressive sects, again and again, raising armies and wielding magic as a weapon. The Shade Wars lasted centuries, and by the end of it, only two groups were standing: the Domini and the Necromancers.


This has been the latest 549 words of a 3,393 word story in progress.

Wednesday, May 20, 2009

100th Storyblogging Carnival on the way
The next Storyblogging Carnival wil be the one hundredth. Wow, that sort of snuck up on me. Well, sure, I knew the last one was the 99th, and I knew that 100 came after 99, but I didn't really put those two facts together. I'm going to have to do something special. In the meanwhile, it will be hosted here, at Back of the Envelope. The carnival will be going up on Monday, June 1st.

If you use your blog to share your fiction, then the Storyblogging Carnival is your opportunity. Here we host any and all forms of storytelling in blog format. If you're curious about what this looks like, have a look at some examples of previous storyblogging carnivals.

If you'd like to participate, please e-mail your story submissions to me at dscrank-at-alum-dot-mit-dot-edu (or post in my comments), including the following information:
  • Name of your blog
  • URL of your blog
  • Title of the story
  • URL for the blog entry where the story is posted
  • (OPTIONAL) Author's name
  • (OPTIONAL) A suggested rating for adult content (G, PG, PG-13, R)
  • A word count
  • A short blurb describing the story

The post may be of any age, from a week old to years old. The submission deadline is 11:59 PM Eastern time on Saturday, May 30th. More detailed information follows (same as always):
  1. The story or excerpt submitted must be posted on-line as a blog entry, and while fiction is preferred, non-fiction storytelling is acceptable.
  2. The story can be any length, but the Carnival will list them in order of length, from shortest to longest, and include a word count for each one.
  3. You may either send a complete story, a story in progress, or a lengthy excerpt. You should indicate the word count for both the excerpt and the complete story in the submission, and you should say how the reader can find more of the story in the post itself.
  4. If the story spans multiple posts, each post should contain a link to the beginning of the story, and a link to the next post. You may submit the whole story, the first post, or, if you've previously submitted earlier posts to the Carnival, the next post which you have not submitted. Please indicate the length of the entire story, as well as the portion which you are submitting.
  5. The host has sole discretion to decide whether the story will be included or not, or whether to indicate that the story has pornographic or graphically violent content. The ratings for the story will be decided by the host. I expect I'll be pretty lenient on that sort of thing, but I have some limits, and others may draw the line elsewhere. Aside from noting potentially offensive content, while I may say nice things about stories I like, I won't be panning anyone's work. I expect other hosts to be similarly polite.
  6. The story may be the blogger's own or posted with permission, but if it is not his own work he should gain permission from the author before submitting to the Carnival.

If you'd like to be added to the e-mail list, please let me know. Finally, I appreciate folks promoting the carnival on their own blogs, and I'm always looking for bloggers willing to host future carnivals.

Monday, May 4, 2009

Storyblogging Carnival XCIX
Welcome to the ninety-ninth storyblogging carnival. Wow, that means the next one is number 100. I should probably do something special for it, huh?


Greeting
by Marco Kaufman of The Big Book of Grievances
A 168 word brief story rated PG.

A parent deals with the death of a child.


Rumpole Creator, John Mortimer, Dead at 85
by Madeleine Begun Kane of Mad Kane's Humor Blog
A 500 word brief story rated PG.

"Excerpts from my profile (and interview) of the recently deceased John Mortimer."


Night golfing X-files
by Faizal Ismail of Langkasuka
A 625 word brief story rated PG.

Things that cough in the night.


Soulcrushing Fiction: Threads Pt. 4 (Part 1)
by softmelon of The Den of Psychosis
The final 645 words of a 1,800 word continuing story rated R.

The speculative story about a future where overcrowding causes society to regulate the hours in which senior citizens can be out in public.


The Story of the Cat Who Did Things Differently
by Karen S Murphy of Polaris Rising
A 712 word brief story rated G.

A story about how living freely and from the heart has a ripple effect on society.


Things to come? Redux...
by Andrew Ian Dodge of Dodgeblogium
A 859 word brief story rated PG.

The slow fall of Britain.


Twitterpocalypse
by Mark Rayner of The Skwib
A 900 word brief story rated PG.

The end of the world, told through tweets.


Bars and Ink on my Wrist
by Benjamin Himlan of Working the Line
A 909 word brief story rated R.

A new job.


How to Pick a Lock
by KateAddict of The Fictitious Tales of Isis
A 1,178 word short story rated NC-17.

Natasha demonstrates some little known skills.


Ashram Paradise
by Pandora Parker of Skirt Tales
A 1,327 word short story rated PG.

Ashley leaves New York for Paradise Island to escape. Her bikini gets ruffled after encountering a fellow vacationer with a dislike for New Yorkers


Recovery, Relapse, Relationship
by Tim King of J. Timothy King's Stories
The first 6,256 words of a continuing story rated PG.

A sexual assault advocate faces a victim with a troubled marriage and ends up facing her own past.






This concludes the ninety-eighth Storyblogging Carnival.

If you'd like to take part in a future carnival, please contact me. I am also looking for hosts. Other carnivals can be found here.

The Storyblogging Carnival can be found at The Truth Laid Bear's ÜberCarnival.

Friday, May 1, 2009

Black Gate open for submissions
Black Gate, a magazine for adventure fantasy, is now open for submissions until June 30th, after having been closed for a few years. It's the only magazine to which I subscribe, and they always have good stuff. They accept short stories in adventure fantasy (see their guidelines to see what that means), but they have a definition of short fiction which is considerably longer than most, up to 25,000 words, and if you ask first, they can look at even longer stuff.

I've submitted three stories to Black Gate over the years, and though they've yet to accept any of my stories, I'll be happy to send another one off to them. I've always gotten good feedback from their editor, John O'Neill. A word of warning though: they have a legendarily long response time. I don't think I've ever heard back from them in less than a year. I'm hoping this new limited open submissions period will help to shorten that time (they're currently saying two months), but it's still wise not to expect to be able to send your stories to anyone who doesn't accept simultaneous submissions for a while.

Tuesday, April 21, 2009

Now accepting submissions
The next Storyblogging Carnival, the ninety-ninth, will be hosted here at Back of the Envelope. The carnival will be going up on Monday, May 4th.

If you use your blog to share your fiction, then the Storyblogging Carnival is your opportunity. Here we host any and all forms of storytelling in blog format. If you're curious about what this looks like, have a look at some examples of previous storyblogging carnivals.

If you'd like to participate, please e-mail your story submissions to me at dscrank-at-alum-dot-mit-dot-edu (or post in my comments), including the following information:
  • Name of your blog
  • URL of your blog
  • Title of the story
  • URL for the blog entry where the story is posted
  • (OPTIONAL) Author's name
  • (OPTIONAL) A suggested rating for adult content (G, PG, PG-13, R)
  • A word count
  • A short blurb describing the story

The post may be of any age, from a week old to years old. The submission deadline is 11:59 PM Eastern time on Saturday, May 2nd. More detailed information follows (same as always):
  1. The story or excerpt submitted must be posted on-line as a blog entry, and while fiction is preferred, non-fiction storytelling is acceptable.
  2. The story can be any length, but the Carnival will list them in order of length, from shortest to longest, and include a word count for each one.
  3. You may either send a complete story, a story in progress, or a lengthy excerpt. You should indicate the word count for both the excerpt and the complete story in the submission, and you should say how the reader can find more of the story in the post itself.
  4. If the story spans multiple posts, each post should contain a link to the beginning of the story, and a link to the next post. You may submit the whole story, the first post, or, if you've previously submitted earlier posts to the Carnival, the next post which you have not submitted. Please indicate the length of the entire story, as well as the portion which you are submitting.
  5. The host has sole discretion to decide whether the story will be included or not, or whether to indicate that the story has pornographic or graphically violent content. The ratings for the story will be decided by the host. I expect I'll be pretty lenient on that sort of thing, but I have some limits, and others may draw the line elsewhere. Aside from noting potentially offensive content, while I may say nice things about stories I like, I won't be panning anyone's work. I expect other hosts to be similarly polite.
  6. The story may be the blogger's own or posted with permission, but if it is not his own work he should gain permission from the author before submitting to the Carnival.

If you'd like to be added to the e-mail list, please let me know. Finally, I appreciate folks promoting the carnival on their own blogs, and I'm always looking for bloggers willing to host future carnivals.

Tuesday, April 7, 2009

Storyblogging Carnival XCVIII
Welcome to the ninety-eighth storyblogging carnival. Rather than spend a lot of time talking about it, I'll just get on with the entries.


Performance Art Gone Horribly Right
by Mark Rayner of The Skwib
A 110 word brief story rated PG.

A performance artist takes on the financial meltdown.


Physics of Physicality
by Mauzzie of One Post/One Person/Two Eyes
A 185 word brief story rated PG.

A slice of life, a glimpse of a few minutes from my everyday commute to work- looking at strangers that I'd probably never see after the journey.


ten14 is a great place for a nap
by Aaron Rogier of Aaron Rogier
A 232 word brief story rated PG.

A story about everyone's favorite G-rated activity in a place it doesn't belong.


Coronation
by Marco Kaufman of The Big Book of Grievances
A 237 word brief story rated G.

A brief piece of historical fiction.


A Botox Tale
by Andrew Ian Dodge of Dodgeblogium
A 344 word brief story rated PG.

A plot is uncovered by the Sage's friend.


Trip to Tawang: Part 3: Seven Sisters waterfall, Cherrapunji and Tawang monastery, Tawang
by Pawan of Admirable India
A 568 word brief story rated G.

A travel log with some beautiful pictures.


Henry's Shadow
by Goemagog of This space for sublet
A 645 word brief story rated PG.

Henry discovers that there is something out there.


Our Most Unforgettable Corvette Adventure
by Susie Q of The Musings
A 833 word brief story rated PG.

A husband and wife drive from Alaska to Missouri--or try to, at least.


Return of the Green Pickup
by Greg Laden of Greg Laden's Blog
A 1,251 word short story rated PG.

"Things had been quiet... But things were about to get a bit less quiet."


Should have seen it coming
by softmelon of The Den of Psychosis
A 1,493 word short story rated PG-13.

This story pre-dates the movie "NEXT" starring N.Cage. In my story, the main character can see almost 30 minutes into the future.


Soul crushing fiction: Threads
by softmelon of The Den of Psychosis
A 1,784 word short story rated PG-13.

The speculative story about a future where overcrowding causes society to regulate the hours in which senior citizens can be out in public


The Consequences
by Jenn H. of Mixed Metaphor.net
A 2,531 short story rated PG.

A short story about the consequences of the life decisions made by two people who loved each other.


The Lion, the Tent, and the Anthropologist
by Greg Laden of Greg Laden's Blog
A 3,721 word short story rated PG.

A true story of lions in the night.






This concludes the ninety-eighth Storyblogging Carnival.

If you'd like to take part in a future carnival, please contact me. I am also looking for hosts. Other carnivals can be found here.

The Storyblogging Carnival can be found at The Truth Laid Bear's ÜberCarnival.

Monday, March 23, 2009

Now accepting submissions
The next Storyblogging Carnival, the ninety-eighth, will be hosted here at Back of the Envelope. The carnival will be going up on Monday, April 6th.

If you use your blog to share your fiction, then the Storyblogging Carnival is your opportunity. Here we host any and all forms of storytelling in blog format. If you're curious about what this looks like, have a look at some examples of previous storyblogging carnivals.

If you'd like to participate, please e-mail your story submissions to me at dscrank-at-alum-dot-mit-dot-edu (or post in my comments), including the following information:
  • Name of your blog
  • URL of your blog
  • Title of the story
  • URL for the blog entry where the story is posted
  • (OPTIONAL) Author's name
  • (OPTIONAL) A suggested rating for adult content (G, PG, PG-13, R)
  • A word count
  • A short blurb describing the story

The post may be of any age, from a week old to years old. The submission deadline is 11:59 PM Eastern time on Saturday, April 4th. More detailed information follows (same as always):
  1. The story or excerpt submitted must be posted on-line as a blog entry, and while fiction is preferred, non-fiction storytelling is acceptable.
  2. The story can be any length, but the Carnival will list them in order of length, from shortest to longest, and include a word count for each one.
  3. You may either send a complete story, a story in progress, or a lengthy excerpt. You should indicate the word count for both the excerpt and the complete story in the submission, and you should say how the reader can find more of the story in the post itself.
  4. If the story spans multiple posts, each post should contain a link to the beginning of the story, and a link to the next post. You may submit the whole story, the first post, or, if you've previously submitted earlier posts to the Carnival, the next post which you have not submitted. Please indicate the length of the entire story, as well as the portion which you are submitting.
  5. The host has sole discretion to decide whether the story will be included or not, or whether to indicate that the story has pornographic or graphically violent content. The ratings for the story will be decided by the host. I expect I'll be pretty lenient on that sort of thing, but I have some limits, and others may draw the line elsewhere. Aside from noting potentially offensive content, while I may say nice things about stories I like, I won't be panning anyone's work. I expect other hosts to be similarly polite.
  6. The story may be the blogger's own or posted with permission, but if it is not his own work he should gain permission from the author before submitting to the Carnival.

If you'd like to be added to the e-mail list, please let me know. Finally, I appreciate folks promoting the carnival on their own blogs, and I'm always looking for bloggers willing to host future carnivals.

Tuesday, March 3, 2009

Storyblogging Carnival XCVII
Welcome to the ninety-seventh storyblogging carnival. It's a little late, partly because I was hoping we'd get one or two more entries. There aren't a lot of submissions this time, but it's all good stuff.


Beach Babes of Vision
by Mark Rayner of The Skwib
A 200 word brief story rated PG-13.

Misunderstood women in the history of the beach.


Hey Lady, You Wanna Ride?
by Amanda CMJ of Yield Pics Remix: The Story Behind the Photography
A 217 word short story rated PG.

Our interactions with local Cambodian wildlife.


alarm
by Seth Manapio of Whiskey Before Breakfast... the blog
A 433 word brief story rated R.

Part of his ongoing autobioblog.


Interactive Taxes
by Madeleine Begun Kane of Mad Kane's Humor Blog
A 686 word brief story rated PG.

The story of a man and his interactive tax software package.






This concludes the ninety-seventh Storyblogging Carnival.

If you'd like to take part in a future carnival, please contact me. I am also looking for hosts. Other carnivals can be found here.

The Storyblogging Carnival can be found at The Truth Laid Bear's ÜberCarnival.

Monday, February 23, 2009

Storyblogging Carnival XCVII
The next Storyblogging Carnival, the ninety-seventh, will be hosted here at Back of the Envelope. Once again, I'm a week late putting this up, but this time I won't get the carnival up late, I'll just set the time for submissions to one week. So the carnival will be going up on Monday, March 2nd.

If you use your blog to share your fiction, then the Storyblogging Carnival is your opportunity. Here we host any and all forms of storytelling in blog format. If you're curious about what this looks like, have a look at some examples of previous storyblogging carnivals.

If you'd like to participate, please e-mail your story submissions to me at dscrank-at-alum-dot-mit-dot-edu (or post in my comments), including the following information:
  • Name of your blog
  • URL of your blog
  • Title of the story
  • URL for the blog entry where the story is posted
  • (OPTIONAL) Author's name
  • (OPTIONAL) A suggested rating for adult content (G, PG, PG-13, R)
  • A word count
  • A short blurb describing the story

The post may be of any age, from a week old to years old. The submission deadline is 11:59 PM Eastern time on Saturday, February 28th. More detailed information follows (same as always):
  1. The story or excerpt submitted must be posted on-line as a blog entry, and while fiction is preferred, non-fiction storytelling is acceptable.
  2. The story can be any length, but the Carnival will list them in order of length, from shortest to longest, and include a word count for each one.
  3. You may either send a complete story, a story in progress, or a lengthy excerpt. You should indicate the word count for both the excerpt and the complete story in the submission, and you should say how the reader can find more of the story in the post itself.
  4. If the story spans multiple posts, each post should contain a link to the beginning of the story, and a link to the next post. You may submit the whole story, the first post, or, if you've previously submitted earlier posts to the Carnival, the next post which you have not submitted. Please indicate the length of the entire story, as well as the portion which you are submitting.
  5. The host has sole discretion to decide whether the story will be included or not, or whether to indicate that the story has pornographic or graphically violent content. The ratings for the story will be decided by the host. I expect I'll be pretty lenient on that sort of thing, but I have some limits, and others may draw the line elsewhere. Aside from noting potentially offensive content, while I may say nice things about stories I like, I won't be panning anyone's work. I expect other hosts to be similarly polite.
  6. The story may be the blogger's own or posted with permission, but if it is not his own work he should gain permission from the author before submitting to the Carnival.

If you'd like to be added to the e-mail list, please let me know. Finally, I appreciate folks promoting the carnival on their own blogs, and I'm always looking for bloggers willing to host future carnivals.

Tuesday, February 3, 2009

Storyblogging Carnival XCVI
Howdy folks, and welcome to this here Storgybloggin' Carnival.

Er, sorry about that. I just had to get some of my inner folksiness out of my system. In any case, welcome to the ninety-sixth Storyblogging Carnival. Let's get started.


A Baseball Anecdote
by Marco Kaufman of 55 Flash Fiction Friday
A 55 word brief story rated G.

The title says it all.


The Incident at the Footwear Store
by Brandon Loza of Loza's Loghouse
A 295 word brief story rated PG-13.

A nice little stroll in the park, when I spot from a distance a vendor that sold footwear...


The Shopping Cart Story
by Josanne Anthony of A Chocolate Bouquet
A 365 word brief story rated G.

A humorous true story about a good deed gone bad at the grocery store.


The Wayward Citizen
by Brandon Loza of Loza's Loghouse
A 367 word brief story rated R.

Driving down a dark road alone until the unexpected happens...


Our role in teaching kids how to make new friends
by Kakie of Bur Bur & Friends: Community Park
A 518 word brief story rated G.

This is the story of a mother who planted seeds of courage into a four year old, giving him the courage to reach out and explore new experiences.


The Orphanage
by Brandon Loza of Loza's Loghouse
A 953 word brief story rated R.

A man takes revenge for the death of his wife, and tracks it down to a local orphanage.


Moon Agent: Part 1 of 99(?)
by Terry Dip of Complete and Creative
A 1,000 word short story rated PG.

A college student picks up an ancient book on campus and soon meets the Chinese god of love, who tells him he is now responsible for romantically uniting couples whose names he sees in the book.


Pics Remix: A Temple At the End of the Double Rainbow
by Amanda of Yield To Pedestrian: All the Cool, All the Time
A 1,080 word short story rated PG.

The story behind the picture.


Defined by Blood
by nandita of Cold Snapdragon
A 1,260 word short story rated PG-13.

"To learn the value of physical integrity..."


The Bleak Midwinter
by Pandora Parker of Skirt Tales
A 1,409 word short story rated PG.

A tale about a married man reflecting on his choice to stay in a passionless marriage and not be with the one woman he truly loves.


What Friends Do
by Jenn of Mixed Metaphor.Net
A 1,519 word short story rated PG.

A fictional story about two women — and how strong the bonds of friendship can be. Written in response to a writing prompt at A Thousand Words.


It All Began at Chuck E. Cheese's
by JHS of Colloqium
A 1,572 word short story rated G.

We were set up on a blind date — at Chuck E. Cheese's — by my date's ex-brother-in-law. Sounds like a recipe for disaster rather than romance, doesn't it?


something a little different
by JHS of ream of paper
A 2,100 word short story rated PG.

This is a story of an imaginary acquaintance. For me he represents depression, but he could be whatever plague the reader chooses...






This concludes the ninety-sixth Storyblogging Carnival.

If you'd like to take part in a future carnival, please contact me. I am also looking for hosts. Other carnivals can be found here.

The Storyblogging Carnival can be found at The Truth Laid Bear's ÜberCarnival.

Wednesday, January 28, 2009

The Office of Second Chances coming soon to an anthology near you
I didn't announce this earlier, but now it's public--I have another story being published soon. The Office of Second Chances, which I've discussed here previously, will be appearing in Coach's Midnight Diner: The Back from the Dead Edition. This is a great anthology of genre fiction with a Christian slant, and best of all, I'm in it. Pre-order your copy today!

Okay, now that that's out of my system, I'm glad to have made this anthology, and if you want to read The Office of Second Chances, this is the place to do it, as the story will not be appearing on this website. Besides, the more people who buy it, the more likely there will be another anthology, thus continuing one of the few markets that'd be interested in the type of fiction I write.

Tuesday, January 20, 2009

Accepting submissions for Storyblogging Carnival XCVI
The next Storyblogging Carnival, the ninety-sixth, will be hosted here at Back of the Envelope. It'll be going up in two weeks, on Monday, February 2nd. It's finally back on the first Monday of the month, rather than the second.

If you use your blog to share your fiction, then the Storyblogging Carnival is your opportunity. Here we host any and all forms of storytelling in blog format. If you're curious about what this looks like, have a look at some examples of previous storyblogging carnivals.

If you'd like to participate, please e-mail your story submissions to me at dscrank-at-alum-dot-mit-dot-edu (or post in my comments), including the following information:
  • Name of your blog
  • URL of your blog
  • Title of the story
  • URL for the blog entry where the story is posted
  • (OPTIONAL) Author's name
  • (OPTIONAL) A suggested rating for adult content (G, PG, PG-13, R)
  • A word count
  • A short blurb describing the story

The post may be of any age, from a week old to years old. The submission deadline is 11:59 PM Eastern time on Saturday, January 31st. More detailed information follows (same as always):
  1. The story or excerpt submitted must be posted on-line as a blog entry, and while fiction is preferred, non-fiction storytelling is acceptable.
  2. The story can be any length, but the Carnival will list them in order of length, from shortest to longest, and include a word count for each one.
  3. You may either send a complete story, a story in progress, or a lengthy excerpt. You should indicate the word count for both the excerpt and the complete story in the submission, and you should say how the reader can find more of the story in the post itself.
  4. If the story spans multiple posts, each post should contain a link to the beginning of the story, and a link to the next post. You may submit the whole story, the first post, or, if you've previously submitted earlier posts to the Carnival, the next post which you have not submitted. Please indicate the length of the entire story, as well as the portion which you are submitting.
  5. The host has sole discretion to decide whether the story will be included or not, or whether to indicate that the story has pornographic or graphically violent content. The ratings for the story will be decided by the host. I expect I'll be pretty lenient on that sort of thing, but I have some limits, and others may draw the line elsewhere. Aside from noting potentially offensive content, while I may say nice things about stories I like, I won't be panning anyone's work. I expect other hosts to be similarly polite.
  6. The story may be the blogger's own or posted with permission, but if it is not his own work he should gain permission from the author before submitting to the Carnival.

If you'd like to be added to the e-mail list, please let me know. Finally, I appreciate folks promoting the carnival on their own blogs, and I'm always looking for bloggers willing to host future carnivals.

Monday, January 12, 2009

Storyblogging Carnival XCV
Welcome to the ninety-fifth Storyblogging Carnival. For once, I'm getting it up on the day I said I would. It's a new year, and we have a lot of new writers this time, so I won't bother with introductions and instead dive right in.


Cinema
by Marco Kaufman of 55 Flash Fiction Friday
A 55 word brief story rated PG.

A moment of revelation in a theater.


Night Fight
by Praveen of Fantasy Tales
A 269 word brief story rated PG.

A fight against scarecrow zombies.


Are Writers Doomed to be Single?
by Burak Bilgin of Distiller's Corner
A 337 word brief story rated PG.

Can a writer have privacy in his life?


The Retro Journey Begins: A Poet’s Poetic Sojourn
by Fred Omorogbe of Personal Inspiration & Motivational Poetry
A 443 word short poem rated PG.

A poetic journey into the mind, life and times of an everyday poet.


The Day the Internet Slept
by Raghu of Inside Life
A 562 word brief story rated G.

On the 21st of October, 3008, the internet became aware of its own existence. In the past, many people had predicted that this would happen one day, and computers would take over the world, and it would be the end of the human race. It didn’t happen exactly that way.


At Least I'm not That Guy
by Vanessa Wolf of Wide Awake in Wonderland
A 775 word brief story rated PG-13.

"We all have bad days. Some worse than others... Luckily, I have my father to remind me of what isn’t wrong: I’m not completely batsh*t crazy."


Two Gifts from My Grandfather
by Maddog of Maddog Tales
A 850 word brief story rated PG.

The first tale of my new blog to document my life and publish a memoir. Today you will meet me maternal Grandfather.

[I couldn't get this story to display in Internet Explorer. It worked okay with Firefox, though. -DSC ]


Crossroads, Part One
by Adam Graham of Laser and Sword Magazine
A 854 word brief story rated PG-13.

In the years of the Empire, a young gang leader finds himself running from police after trying to hang a child molester.


Big Girls Don't Cry
by Pandora Parker of Skirt Tales
A 1,602 word short story rated PG.

Dating and motives.

[Pandora would love feedback on this and any other stories. -DSC ]


Santa Ties One On
by Steve Shives of Steve Likes to Cure
A 1,841 word short story rated PG.

Santa, who contrary to popular belief does not visit every house on Earth in one night, but rather has to make three different trips between Dec. 24 and Jan 7, stops in at Barney's bar for a few drinks, having finally completed his rounds for another year.






This concludes the ninety-fifth Storyblogging Carnival.

If you'd like to take part in a future carnival, please contact me. I am also looking for hosts. Other carnivals can be found here.

The Storyblogging Carnival can be found at The Truth Laid Bear's ÜberCarnival.

Tuesday, December 30, 2008

Accepting submissions for Storyblogging Carnival XCV
I'm back from vacation and it's time to host the next Storyblogging Carnival, the ninety-fifth, here at Back of the Envelope. It'll be going up in two weeks, on Monday, December 12th. Once again, it's the second week of the month rather than the first, but once again, I didn't want to compete with the holidays.

If you use your blog to share your fiction, then the Storyblogging Carnival is your opportunity. Here we host any and all forms of storytelling in blog format. If you're curious about what this looks like, have a look at some examples of previous storyblogging carnivals.

If you'd like to participate, please e-mail your story submissions to me at dscrank-at-alum-dot-mit-dot-edu (or post in my comments), including the following information:
  • Name of your blog
  • URL of your blog
  • Title of the story
  • URL for the blog entry where the story is posted
  • (OPTIONAL) Author's name
  • (OPTIONAL) A suggested rating for adult content (G, PG, PG-13, R)
  • A word count
  • A short blurb describing the story

The post may be of any age, from a week old to years old. The submission deadline is 11:59 PM Eastern time on Saturday, January 10th. More detailed information follows (same as always):
  1. The story or excerpt submitted must be posted on-line as a blog entry, and while fiction is preferred, non-fiction storytelling is acceptable.
  2. The story can be any length, but the Carnival will list them in order of length, from shortest to longest, and include a word count for each one.
  3. You may either send a complete story, a story in progress, or a lengthy excerpt. You should indicate the word count for both the excerpt and the complete story in the submission, and you should say how the reader can find more of the story in the post itself.
  4. If the story spans multiple posts, each post should contain a link to the beginning of the story, and a link to the next post. You may submit the whole story, the first post, or, if you've previously submitted earlier posts to the Carnival, the next post which you have not submitted. Please indicate the length of the entire story, as well as the portion which you are submitting.
  5. The host has sole discretion to decide whether the story will be included or not, or whether to indicate that the story has pornographic or graphically violent content. The ratings for the story will be decided by the host. I expect I'll be pretty lenient on that sort of thing, but I have some limits, and others may draw the line elsewhere. Aside from noting potentially offensive content, while I may say nice things about stories I like, I won't be panning anyone's work. I expect other hosts to be similarly polite.
  6. The story may be the blogger's own or posted with permission, but if it is not his own work he should gain permission from the author before submitting to the Carnival.

If you'd like to be added to the e-mail list, please let me know. Finally, I appreciate folks promoting the carnival on their own blogs, and I'm always looking for bloggers willing to host future carnivals.

Tuesday, December 9, 2008

Storyblogging Carnival XCIV
Welcome to the ninety-fourth Storyblogging Carnival. I'll skip the explanations and gets straight to the stories.


Redolent
by Marco Kaufman of 55 Flash Fiction Friday
A 55 word brief story rated PG.

An incident of sense memory


Miss Dating? Not me!
by Madeleine Begun Kane of Mad Kane's Humor Blog
A less than 100 word brief story rated PG.

A romantic tale in verse form.


Impressing Stalin
by Mark Rayner of The Skwib
A 300 word brief story rated PG.

Truman ponders what it will take to have an impact on Uncle Joe.


Nonsensical Conversations
by Donald S. Crankshaw of Back of the Envelope
A 596 word brief story rated PG-13.

A true story demonstrating that some conversations just don't make sense.


Unintended meeting
by Andrew Ian Dodge of Dodgeblogium
A 640 word brief story rated G.

The Sage encounters the one person he least expected.


Unintended meeting
by Andrew Ian Dodge of Dodgeblogium
A 640 word brief story rated G.

The Sage encounters the one person he least expected.


The Zodiac
by Greg Laden of Greg Laden's Science Blog
A 1,597 word short story rated PG.

As story about a boat... and hippos.






This concludes the eighty-eighth Storyblogging Carnival.

If you'd like to take part in a future carnival, please contact me. I am also looking for hosts. Other carnivals can be found here.

The Storyblogging Carnival can be found at The Truth Laid Bear's ÜberCarnival.

Tuesday, November 25, 2008

Now accepting submissions for Storyblogging Carnival XCIV
I'll be hosting the next Storyblogging Carnival, the ninety-fourth, here at Back of the Envelope. It'll be going up in two weeks, on Monday, December 8th.

If you use your blog to share your fiction, then the Storyblogging Carnival is your opportunity. Here we host any and all forms of storytelling in blog format. If you're curious about what this looks like, have a look at some examples of previous storyblogging carnivals.

If you'd like to participate, please e-mail your story submissions to me at dscrank-at-alum-dot-mit-dot-edu (or post in my comments), including the following information:
  • Name of your blog
  • URL of your blog
  • Title of the story
  • URL for the blog entry where the story is posted
  • (OPTIONAL) Author's name
  • (OPTIONAL) A suggested rating for adult content (G, PG, PG-13, R)
  • A word count
  • A short blurb describing the story

The post may be of any age, from a week old to years old. The submission deadline is 11:59 PM Eastern time on Saturday, December 6th. More detailed information follows (same as always):
  1. The story or excerpt submitted must be posted on-line as a blog entry, and while fiction is preferred, non-fiction storytelling is acceptable.
  2. The story can be any length, but the Carnival will list them in order of length, from shortest to longest, and include a word count for each one.
  3. You may either send a complete story, a story in progress, or a lengthy excerpt. You should indicate the word count for both the excerpt and the complete story in the submission, and you should say how the reader can find more of the story in the post itself.
  4. If the story spans multiple posts, each post should contain a link to the beginning of the story, and a link to the next post. You may submit the whole story, the first post, or, if you've previously submitted earlier posts to the Carnival, the next post which you have not submitted. Please indicate the length of the entire story, as well as the portion which you are submitting.
  5. The host has sole discretion to decide whether the story will be included or not, or whether to indicate that the story has pornographic or graphically violent content. The ratings for the story will be decided by the host. I expect I'll be pretty lenient on that sort of thing, but I have some limits, and others may draw the line elsewhere. Aside from noting potentially offensive content, while I may say nice things about stories I like, I won't be panning anyone's work. I expect other hosts to be similarly polite.
  6. The story may be the blogger's own or posted with permission, but if it is not his own work he should gain permission from the author before submitting to the Carnival.

If you'd like to be added to the e-mail list, please let me know. Finally, I appreciate folks promoting the carnival on their own blogs, and I'm always looking for bloggers willing to host future carnivals.

Thursday, November 13, 2008

Nonsensical conversations
Have you ever had one of those conversations that just makes no sense? I had one last night. I was riding on the T, Boston's subway, with a female friend of mine who's half-Indian. Of course, I shall be paraphrasing. I don't remember the details of the conversation, but I think I can get the gist of it.

We had been talking about a mutual acquaintance of ours, whom she had described as, "You know, the black girl? C___ or M___, whatever her name is."

To which I replied, "Oh, you mean C____. She's not black, she's Asian."

"Oh," she said. "Well, you know me, not very PC."

And then we talked about how she didn't really know C___ very well, which was obvious if she misidentified her race.

We were standing next to a young white man in his mid-20s. I was thinking that he was a student (probably Grad student). In any case, he was eating his dinner and tossing his trash on the floor of the train.

My friend leaned in close and said softly, "I hate it when people litter like that."

The young man obviously overheard, and he spoke up. At this point, I didn't say anything. She had, after all, criticized him, so he had a right to defend himself. Of course, his defense amounted to, "How dare you criticize me? I'll do what I want." Not in so many words, of course.

"Well, I'm sorry I offended you, but I wasn't talking to you," my friend said.

"This is a public place. You should be careful what you say that might offend people where you can be overhead. For example, what you said earlier, it was one of the most racist things I've ever heard, and I was offended."

My friend started a standard, "I'm sorry you were offended..." At this point, though, I had to speak up and ask the obvious question, "What did she say that was racist?" My friend hadn't said anything racist that I had heard.

To which the young man said, "Don't try to act all macho and defend her. I was talking to her, not you."

"I just asked what she said that's racist. I think that's a reasonable question," I said.

"I said that this isn't your conversation, Glasses. This is between us."

"Wait, you're saying I can't speak to you?" I asked.

"Yes. I'm not talking to you, so you shouldn't talk to me, Baldy."

"How does that make any sense? So it's okay for you to interrupt our conversation and insult us, but it's not okay for me to talk to you?"

"Yes!"

The odd thing was that I wasn't angry. It was hard to be angry in the face of so ridiculous an argument. I think I was smiling at the ludicrousness of it all. A white kid telling an Indian girl that she was racist for misidentifying an Asian as black, and feeling no compunctions about interrupting our conversation to speak to her yet asserting that I was out of bounds for speaking to him. And calling me names. I didn't think anyone outside of middle school thought that was an effective form of argument.

I continued to argue, rather than shut up, as he insisted, but eventually the conversation died, since there's really no arguing with nonsense.

Of course, I can guess what this was really about. Our listener was upset at being criticized, and feeling humiliated, so he lashed out, making accusations. And when asked to back up the accusation, he resorted to name-calling and bullying.

Tuesday, November 11, 2008

Storyblogging Carnival XCIII
Welcome to the ninety-third Storyblogging Carnival. It's a week later than usual, mainly because we were short on stories last week until I sent out an emergency call for submissions. Fortunately, y'all came through, so while it's a short carnival this week, it's not embarrassingly short.


Petty Bourgeoisie
by Marco Kaufman of 55 Flash Fiction Friday
A 55 word brief story rated G.

A petty argument based on pronunciation and class


Bach! Humbug
by Madeleine Begun Kane of Mad Kane's Humor Blog
A 100 word brief story rated PG.

A CD collector's adventure in limerick form.


Jessussic Park
by Mark Rayner of The Skwib
A 800 word brief story rated PG-13.

The Sermon on the Mount -- with raptors!


The One
by Andrew Ian Dodge of Dodgeblogium
A 925 word brief story rated PG.

"The house had that glow one associates with something nefarious. People describe it differently but its either a green or yellowish hue that seeps out of the windows and under the door no matter how much the person tries to hide their machinations."


Crossing Over, Part VII (The Whole Story)
by Donald S. Crankshaw of Back of the Envelope
The final 3,111 words of a 17,473 word short story rated PG-13.

The exciting conclusion of the CRFH fanfiction.






This concludes the eighty-eighth Storyblogging Carnival.

If you'd like to take part in a future carnival, please contact me. I am also looking for hosts. Other carnivals can be found here.

The Storyblogging Carnival can be found at The Truth Laid Bear's ÜberCarnival.
Crossing Over: Part VII
The Rest of the Story: Read it here.

This is the final part of my College Roomies from Hell fanfiction. I thought I better get this up before I posted the storyblogging carnival. Speaking of which, I'll have it up tomorrow.


Chapter 7

"So…" Mark said. "You have laservision."

Dave was watching Wendy and Stella set up the pentagram. Rose, with Fluffy on her arm, was overseeing them to make sure they got it right. Dave just hoped that rock knew what it was doing. When Mark spoke, he looked at him, then very carefully took a step away. He looked envious, and that made Dave nervous. "Yeah. Like I said, I swam in a polluted lake and mutated."

"But why didn't that happen here? None of us are mutated." He sounded positively disappointed.

"I don't know why Dahlia and the others didn't do the same thing. Maybe because girls aren't as likely to get so drunk they hijack a plane and make a porno movie before waking up in a tree about to be cut down by a lumberjack."

"Wow, that sounds like it was quite an adventure. So, um, where is this lake?"

"Trust me, stay away from there. I was lucky: my mutation isn't disfiguring. Mike and Roger weren't. Mike's left arm turned into a tentacle and Roger grew an eye in his hand. There's no telling what mutation you'd end up with if you went there. "

"Aww. Okay, then tell me why you didn't use your laservision on me when I was beating you up. You could have taken me down anytime, couldn't you?"

Dave rolled his shoulders uncomfortably, only to gasp in pain. He reached up to massage his aching shoulder, which gave him time to think. The truth was that he had been giving voice to his frustrations, and laservision would have ended the fight before he could do so. "I, uh, didn't want to hurt you," he said instead.

"And here I was, worried about hurting you." Mark paused before continuing. "So I guess this is why you're so convinced that you and the others are supposed to help this female version of me. You think that the mutations were given to you for that reason."

"It's occurred to me, yes," Dave said.

"But here, Dahlia doesn't have a mutation. How is she supposed to help me?"

Dave shook his head. "It's not about the mutations. They give us an edge in the fights, but I don't think it's about the fights either. Satan wants our souls, and in order to do that, he needs to corrupt us. Individually we're doomed, but if we help one another, we have a chance."

"Heh, you sound like that friend of yours, Rikki."

"Yeah, he's the one who gave me the idea… oh no, now what?"

Stella and Wendy had gotten into a fight, and Rose and Adam were trying to drag them apart. Marvin came over to help, leaving Michelle idly filing her nails, and pried Stella's hair out of Wendy's grip. "You're such an idiot, Wendy!" Stella shouted. "It's no wonder Satan chose me as his bride."

"No way! He chose me!" Wendy said, managing to grab hold of Stella's dress despite Rose's, Adam's, and Marvin's attempts to separate them. Stella was trying to claw her eyes out when a blaze of blue light set the air sizzling and they both froze instantly.

"Frankly, I don't care if Satan marries you both," Dave said, relieved that Wendy had released her grip on Stella's bodice. The fabric had seemed close to tearing, and that was the last thing he wanted to see. "He can have a family, raise a couple of little demons. Maybe it'll get him off our backs. I do care about getting home, though, so can't this wait until after I get there."

"That's the problem. That idiot"—Stella pointed at her roommate—"thinks the last three candles should be black, red, red, but I know they should be red, black, red."

"Oh, sure, if you want to turn him inside out," Wendy said. "If you want something less dis-organ-ized, you should do it my way."

Everything took on a blue tinge as Dave briefly entertained the thought of putting them both out of his misery. Unfortunately, he needed their help. "Rose, what does Fluffy say?" Dave asked.

"Fluffy's not sure," Rose answered. "The books they're using argue as much as they do."

"Argh, just when I could use advice from a rock. Okay, we'll do it Stev-Stella's way."

"Are you sure?" Mark asked. "If Wendy's right, it might kill you."

"If they're anything like Steve and Waldo, then Stella's less of an idiot. Besides, if it turns me inside out, they know you'll kill them. I think they have plenty of incentive to make sure it works."

The two witches looked at each other, then back at him. "Well, what are you waiting for?" Mark said.

Rose, Marvin, and Adam released the two of them, they scrambled to get to work, Stella putting the last few candles in place while Wendy used chalk to draw one last symbol on the wooden floor. When they were done, Stella said, "Okay, it's ready. Should we do it now?"

Dave took a couple of deep breaths as he gathered up Chester. If it kills me—then at least those two will be right behind. "Okay, we should do this now before my courage gives out."



"Dahlia" sighed, then closed her eyes as she lifted the glass to her lips.

"Stop!"

Everyone froze, including girl-Dave, who held the glass less than an inch from her mouth. With so many people packed into the kitchen, all their eyes focused on "Dahlia," no one had noticed that someone else had crowded into the doorway, his discolored and puffy face peering over Marsha's shoulder. Complete silence fell over the room as he entered, limping, until Margaret said, "Dave?"

"Yeah, it's me," he said, crossing the room to where Dahlia—Margaret guessed that really was her name—stood. A black cat, obviously Chester, followed after him. Dahlia continued to stand still, the glass trembling against the edge of her lip as her eyes darted around the room, until Dave took the potion out of her hand and placed it on the counter. "And you're Dahlia, aren't you? I'm thinking you really don't want to drink that."

"Then I-I'm not Dave? They said I was…"

"No, you're not Dave. I am," he answered.

"Then I am useless," she said, and started to cry.

"Whoa, wait," Dave said, hands raised helplessly. "Who said that?"

She pointed a shaky finger at Mike as she wiped at her eyes with the other hand, saying, "He did."

Mike seemed to shrink under the withering looks the others gave him. Well, probably it was only Marsha's venomous gaze that caused that. "In my defense, I thought she was you," he argued.

Dave's eyes flashed blue and Mike raised a tentacle to shield his eyes, but there was no brilliant blaze of light this time. "You know, Mike, I ought to blast you on general principle, but…" He looked back at Dahlia. "C'mere," he said, pulling her into an awkward hug. He wasn't much better at the comforting stuff than Margaret. "You're not useless, Dahlia. You're just out-of-place. They need you back home just as much as these guys need me." He looked over her shoulder at Mike and the others, as if wanting to see whether anyone would challenge him. No one did.

"But how do I get home?" Dahlia asked. "Where am I?"

"Isn't it obvious?" asked April. "I bet she's from an alternate universe."

"That's the craziest thing—" Mike began.

"April's right," Dave said before Mike could start an argument. He let go of Dahlia so he could talk to the others. "Steve's and Waldo's spell worked right the first time, sending me to Dahlia's world. If they re-cast the spell, we can send Dahlia home."

"Does this mean we spent all that time on that potion for nothing?" Steve asked.

"If you don't want it to go to waste, you can try it," Margaret said.

"Uh, that's all right. I'll just go get started on that pentagram." He hurriedly left the room, Waldo trailing in his wake, leaving the kitchen just a hair less crowded.

Chester had joined Chelsea on the counter, and the two cats were sniffing at each other. Dave hastily seized hold of his cat, and Dahlia grabbed hers, both of them blushing furiously as they did so. The others wisely didn't ask any questions.

"So, Dave, what happened to you?" Margaret asked. "You look like you've been in a fight with a werecoy—werewolf, a fight with a werewolf." She carefully avoided looking at Roger, who was holding a furious whispered conversation with Fluffy and didn't seem to have heard.

He said, "I'll explain after we get Dahlia home."

"But I still don't understand," Dahlia said. "What do you mean about an alternate universe and another world?"

Dave did his best to explain the concept, which was a neat trick considering he just barely understood it. April joined in, as a result of which he understood even less.

"So events happen in parallel in both worlds?" Margaret asked, worried.

"Not completely parallel," Dave said, gesturing significantly to his bruised face. "Although apparently both worlds are out to get me."

"Well, obviously!" Roger said loudly. When he noticed that everyone had turned towards him, he said, "Um, sorry, what did you say, Dave? Fluffy was just pointing out that the events of the two universes aren't identical, but they do converge for significant events, then they diverge along different paths only to converge again at the next significant event."

"I find it odd that the mutations aren't considered a significant event," Margaret said.

"Fluffy agrees, but it doesn't have an explanation," Roger replied.

"What did happen there, Dave?" Dahlia asked him. "You look like you got into a fight."

Dave sighed. "I guess you're going to find out anyway. Mark and I had a disagreement."

"Mark did that?" Dahlia asked, horrified. "But why? I know he has a temper, but…"

"I hit him first, actually," Dave said, looking down at Chester, resting in his arms, rather than meeting Dahlia's eyes. "Uh-oh, I think I hear Steve and Waldo arguing. I better go make sure they get it right." He hurried out the door before Dahlia or Margaret could say anything else. Margaret hadn't heard anything from the wonder morons. She and Dahlia met each other's eyes, and they both shrugged.

"Don't worry about it, Dahlia," Mike said. "Dave can't cross the street without getting pounded by somebody. Something about him just screams 'Hurt me!'"

"And you're always happy to oblige, aren't you, Mike?" Margaret snapped.

"Hey, he expects it from me. Better me than someone who would really hurt him." Mike arched an eyebrow at her. It was an impressive feat, and Margaret would have appreciated it more if she hadn't understood perfectly well what he was implying.

Rather than respond to Mike's goading, Margaret headed out into the living room, where Dave was arguing with Steve. The others followed. Unlike the living rooms upstairs, this one had a wood floor, more amenable to chalk drawings than a carpet, at least. A pentagram was drawn on it, surrounded by all sorts of symbols, bearing a resemblance to letters but each from a different alphabet: Arabic, Chinese, Hebrew, even what looked like an English "W." There was plenty of room for it, as the living room was even more sparsely furnished than the guys' apartment, lacking not just a television but even a couch, although there were plenty of bookshelves laden with old leatherbound books with unreadable languages printed on their spine, along with more modern volumes such as Demon Summoning for Dummies and A Beginner's Guide to Sumerian Chants. None of the room's current occupants had much interest in those books, as Steve and Dave stood on opposite sides of the pentagram, glaring at each other, while Waldo was scribbling more symbols on the floor with chalk while trying to stay below eye-level.

"I know what I'm doing," Steve was saying. "I had no trouble sending you there, did I?"

"But I'm telling you that in the other universe the candles went red, black, red," Dave said.

"That was there," Steve answered. "Here they go black, red, black. Are you going to trust me or not?"

"I'm not going to trust you, that's for sure. If something goes wrong, I'm going to give you a terminal case of laserburn."

"Nothing will go wrong, I'm sure," Steve said. "So…, um, how can you tell whether it actually sent her back to the right place?"

"Because if she doesn't arrive home within an hour from the time I left, they're going to send Mark after her, and you know that their spell works. If it turns out you lost her, he's going to be furious. He did this"—Dave pointed to his face—"out of mild annoyance."

"Oookay," Steve said, backing away a step, "you've answered all my questions. Do you have any questions, Waldo?"

"None at all. You beat me to the punch."

"I guess we're ready then."

"Dahlia," Dave said. "It's time to go."

"Are you sure it's safe?" she asked as she sat down in the center of the pentagram, Chelsea in her lap.

"No, not really," Dave said, looking at his feet. "But Wendy and Stella were able to send me here, so Steve and Waldo should be able to send you to your home."

Dahlia turned very pale, but all she said was, "Let's hurry up and do this. Thanks, Dave."

"Just trust me when I say they really do need you there," Dave answered.

Dahlia nodded. "And thank you, Margaret, for listening to me."

"Yeah, sure," Margaret replied.

Steve and Waldo took positions on either side of the pentagram and began to chant. It was, as far as Margaret could tell, a very poor job of it. She wasn't sure what language they were chanting in, but quite a few words came out garbled, quite often they seemed to be saying very different things, and once she distinctly heard Steve slip the phrase "Dave is a jerkwad" into the mumbling. Despite this worrying fact, Dave didn't show any reaction to their poor chanting. On the other hand, he had a distinctly greenish cast throughout, even showing through the bruises, so maybe he was too worried to notice. Dahlia looked almost identical, sitting there with her eyes tightly shut. Finally the chanting came to a crescendo and suddenly halted. The eerie silence in the aftermath stretched on for a few seconds, then a minute, then two.

"Is something going to hap—" Margaret began.

"Shhh," hissed Dave.

She was going to argue, but at that moment she notice that Dahlia had grown dim and dingy. She looked more closely to try to see what was happening to her, and realized that Dahlia was surrounded by a black mist, the same darkness that had formed around Dave before. It grew darker and deeper until it was quite opaque, blocking her sight of Dahlia underneath a dome tied to the outer circle of the pentogram. And then it vanished, and Dahlia was gone too.

"Did it work?" she asked.

"I think so," Dave replied. "Even though their chanting sounded terrible."

"It doesn't really matter what they chant," Roger replied. "As long as they have the rhythm and volume right. That's what Fluffy says, anyway."

"Do you think we'll ever find out if she made it home?" Marsha asked from where she had been watching, well away from the pentagram.

"I don't know," Mike told her. "Probably not. Well, who wants pizza?"

"I do," said Roger. "Can we get anchovies and peaches?"

"Heh. I thought you'd want gravel again," Mike said as he headed out the door.

"That's Fluffy's favorite, not mine, and he's not hungry right now."

"As long as it doesn't have mushrooms I'm happy," said April as she followed Roger into the hallway. "Every time I see a mushroom I can't help looking for a blue tinge."

"Dave, are you all right?" Margaret asked him, as he had remained where he was. Waldo and Steve seemed eager to be rid of them, but reluctant to say so considering who they were talking to.

"I suppose. I… learned something about myself, and my feelings, over there. I'm not sure I liked it, but I'm glad it happened."

Margaret nodded, "I know what you mean."

"Really? What did you learn?"

"You know, feelings and such."

"And here I thought guys were supposed to be the ones who didn't like talking about their feelings," Dave said as he turned towards the door.

"Well, was guy-me any better at it?" Margaret asked, joining him.

"Not exactly," Dave said. "I pretty much had to beat it out of him."

"Oh, really?" she said, trying Mike's one eyebrow trick and only managing to lift both.

"Well, okay, so he did most of the beating, but he was honest, to me and to himself. I think he was, anyway. He had an easier time talking to me than to Dahlia."

"Yeah, that's the impression I got from her, too. Why is it so much harder to communicate when it's a man and a woman?"

"Dunno," Dave replied as he pushed the button for the elevator. It dinged and opened right away. The others seemed to have taken the stairs, but Margaret got on the elevator with Dave, even though it was only one floor. Dave didn't look like he was in any condition to climb even that far. In fact, he looked as if even holding Chester in his arms was painful.

"Here, give him to me," Margaret said, pulling Chester from him.

"Wha—really? I thought you were, you know…"

"I don't mind holding him just so long as he behaves," she said, cradling the cat against her stomach. Chester snuggled against her but otherwise kept still. A rumbling purr started up almost immediately.

Dave was fighting a losing battle to keep a dopey grin off of his face. With the condition his face was in, it looked like that grin hurt. "He's very happy," Dave blurted by way of explanation. He cleared his throat and changed the subject, "Anyway, with Mark, I could say what I felt, I could be honest. I wish I could do that with you."

"Well, why don't you?" she asked.

"Eh, maybe we can wait for my injuries to heal first."

Margaret rolled her eyes, but otherwise kept her thoughts to herself. She was good at that. Besides, she had forgotten how warm and soft Chester was, and she was enjoying just holding him.

The End


This is the last 3,111 word excerpt of a 17,473 word short story.

Saturday, October 25, 2008

Non-cooperative vs uncooperative
Glenn Reynolds has pointed out a slashdot article about robots hunting down uncooperative human subjects. Unfortunately, whether for humor purposes or as a simple misunderstanding, they misread the original invitation for proposals, which actually says:
There are many research efforts within robotics in path planning, exploration, and mapping of indoor and outdoor environments. Operator control units are available that allow semi-autonomous map-based control of a team of robots. While the test environments are usually benign, they are slowly becoming longer and more complex. There has also been significant research in the game theory community involving pursuit/evasion scenarios. This topic seeks to merge these research areas and develop a software/hardware suit that would enable a multi-robot team, together with a human operator, to search for and detect a non-cooperative human subject. The main research task will involve determining the movements of the robot team through the environment to maximize the opportunity to find the subject, while minimizing the chances of missing the subject. If the operator is an active member of the search team, the software should minimize the chance that the operator may encounter the subject. As a simplification, the building layout could be given, although operating in an unknown environment with unknown obstacles is more realistic. The latter case should be studied at least in simulation. The software should maintain awareness of line-of-sight, as well as communication and sensor limits. It will be necessary to determine an appropriate sensor suite that can reliably detect human presence and is suitable for implementation on small robotic platforms. Additionally, the robot may not have the intelligence, sensing, or manipulative power to perform reconnaissance under full autonomy. For example, the robot may not be able to negotiate all obstacles, determine the course of action when confronted with difficult choices, or have sufficient team members to optimally search. Part of the research will involve determining what role the human operator will play in the search task. The system should flag the operator when assistance is required. Typical robots for this type of activity are expected to weigh less than 100 Kg and the team would have three to five robots.

Now, the problem is that the term used here is 'non-cooperative', not 'uncooperative,' and the two are not synonymous. Uncooperative, as a commonly used term, means someone who is "unwilling to work with you." It can be a euphemism for anyone you disagree with. Non-cooperative, in this context, is a technical term that has nothing to do with the subject's willingness or unwillingness. It refers to whether someone is actively helping in the task, namely, their own detection, and more specifically, actively helping in an agreed upon manner, such as by transmitting a radio signal. A non-cooperative subject could, in fact, be someone trying to hide from the robots, but it could equally well be someone who is unable to communicate, or who simply doesn't know how. If you have a system that detects cooperative subjects by radio transmitters, then someone standing on a hilltop waving a flag, but who lacks a radio transmitter, is non-cooperative.

Tuesday, October 21, 2008

Now accepting submissions for Storyblogging Carnival XCIII
I'll be hosting the next Storyblogging Carnival, the ninety-third, here at Back of the Envelope. It'll be going up in two weeks.

If you use your blog to share your fiction, then the Storyblogging Carnival is your opportunity. Here we host any and all forms of storytelling in blog format. If you're curious about what this looks like, have a look at some examples of previous storyblogging carnivals. This next carnival will be going up Novemebr 3rd.

If you'd like to participate, please e-mail your story submissions to me at dscrank-at-alum-dot-mit-dot-edu (or post in my comments), including the following information:
  • Name of your blog
  • URL of your blog
  • Title of the story
  • URL for the blog entry where the story is posted
  • (OPTIONAL) Author's name
  • (OPTIONAL) A suggested rating for adult content (G, PG, PG-13, R)
  • A word count
  • A short blurb describing the story

The post may be of any age, from a week old to years old. The submission deadline is 11:59 PM Eastern time on Saturday, November 1st. More detailed information follows (same as always):
  1. The story or excerpt submitted must be posted on-line as a blog entry, and while fiction is preferred, non-fiction storytelling is acceptable.
  2. The story can be any length, but the Carnival will list them in order of length, from shortest to longest, and include a word count for each one.
  3. You may either send a complete story, a story in progress, or a lengthy excerpt. You should indicate the word count for both the excerpt and the complete story in the submission, and you should say how the reader can find more of the story in the post itself.
  4. If the story spans multiple posts, each post should contain a link to the beginning of the story, and a link to the next post. You may submit the whole story, the first post, or, if you've previously submitted earlier posts to the Carnival, the next post which you have not submitted. Please indicate the length of the entire story, as well as the portion which you are submitting.
  5. The host has sole discretion to decide whether the story will be included or not, or whether to indicate that the story has pornographic or graphically violent content. The ratings for the story will be decided by the host. I expect I'll be pretty lenient on that sort of thing, but I have some limits, and others may draw the line elsewhere. Aside from noting potentially offensive content, while I may say nice things about stories I like, I won't be panning anyone's work. I expect other hosts to be similarly polite.
  6. The story may be the blogger's own or posted with permission, but if it is not his own work he should gain permission from the author before submitting to the Carnival.

If you'd like to be added to the e-mail list, please let me know. Finally, I appreciate folks promoting the carnival on their own blogs, and I'm always looking for bloggers willing to host future carnivals.

Wednesday, October 8, 2008

Storyblogging Carnival XCII
Welcome to the ninety-second Storyblogging Carnival. It's a little bit late, even though there aren't that many stories, so it really shouldn't be that much work. Ah well. Rather than make excuses, here's the carnival:


Quotation from Lenny's Wife
by Marco Kaufman of 55 Flash Fiction Friday
A 55 word brief story rated G.

A famous quote from Mao Tse-Tung is given a new twist


First Installment of Cheese Pyrates!
by Mark Rayner of The Skwib
A 400 word brief story rated PG.

A tale of curdled revenge, as Ensign Jim Quinn tries to defeat his father's killer, Captain Jack LaBung.


My Close Encounter (I Think) with Paul Newman
by Madeleine Begun Kane of Mad Kane's Humor Blog
A 500 word brief story rated PG.

Humor column about the time I'm pretty sure I encountered Paul Newman in a New York City bar.


Crossing Over, Part VI (The Whole Story)
by Donald S. Crankshaw of Back of the Envelope
The next 2,926 words of a 17,473 word short story rated PG-13.

Continuing the CRFH fanfiction, it all gets very exciting.






This concludes the eighty-eighth Storyblogging Carnival.

If you'd like to take part in a future carnival, please contact me. I am also looking for hosts. Other carnivals can be found here.

The Storyblogging Carnival can be found at The Truth Laid Bear's ÜberCarnival.
Crossing Over: Part VI
The Rest of the Story: You can find it here.

I've been neglectful in getting this story posted, and in getting the Storyblogging Carnival done. I'll get both of them done tonight.

This is the next to last part of my College Roomies from Hell!!! fanfiction (posted with permission. It's almost over, but I'm not going to make it easy.


Crossing Over
Part VI

Margaret held "Dahlia" while she cried. Her head was slumped on Margaret's chest while her hands clutched the short sleeves of her "Die!" tee shirt. Her sobs had finally trailed off into whimpers, but it didn't seem like she would be done any time soon. Margaret awkwardly patted her back, at a loss for what to say. She'd already done "There, there" and shushing sounds, and that had exhausted her repertoire for handling these sorts of situations. In retrospect, it probably was not a good idea to get the female Dave to talk about "Mark."

Girl-Dave had denied that Mark had hit her, although Margaret wasn't all that certain she believed her. But if she remembered that happening, that wasn't what she had wanted to talk about. Instead she had spoke of his rudeness, his attempts to distance himself and drive her off, how he always blamed himself for anything bad that happened to her. The description was all too familiar, but hearing this account of "Mark" from this feminine Dave gave her a new insight into it. She found herself becoming angry on "Dahlia's" behalf, and if she could have, she'd have given this Mark the beating of a lifetime. No matter how justified he was in his concern, he had hurt Dahlia badly. Unfortunately, she was Mark, and self-flagellation would not help matters in the least. At the same time, she cursed "Dahlia" for giving her such a clear idea of what it had been like to be on the receiving end of her wrath. Dave had never done so. Although he'd communicated his concern and his love until she was sick of hearing of it, he always whitewashed the anger and frustration he'd felt, always ready to forgive or worse, excuse, her actions. If she hurt him, and she had, he would act depressed and distant for a while, but he'd keep coming back without letting her know how she'd hurt him or why he'd return despite that. "Dahlia" had no such reluctance in discussing her feelings with Margaret. Margaret really wished she did.

She realized that "Dahlia's" whimpers had ceased, and that only slow breathing came from her now. She'd fallen asleep. Margaret gently disengaged her hands from her tee shirt and then removed herself, laying the girl-Dave down on the couch. She found the blanket the girls used when they slept there and draped it over her, then took the half-full water glass to the sink and began washing it out. When the phone sounded, she picked it up on the first ring. "Dahlia" stirred in response, but didn't awake. Chelsea, who'd taken refuge under the couch during the storm of weeping, looked up from where she lay on the couch near her owner's feet, but otherwise didn't move.

"Hello," Margaret said.

"Hello, Margaret?" said Roger. "We think we have an answer to our Dahlia problem."

"No, no, no, you idiots!" A voice yelled in the background. "A cat's eye marble is not an acceptable substitute for an actual cat's eye. I told you to use three newts' eyes—the book says that'd be fine!" That sounded like Marsha.

"If the solution involves Marsha cooking, I'm not interested," Margaret said.

"No, no, she's not cooking, just supervising, and Mike's making sure everything's going right. See, there's this potion…"

"A potion?"

"Yeah, it's supposed to change a person's gender. If 'Dahlia' drinks it, she should turn back to Dave."

"I thought we were just going to try to reverse the spell," Margaret said. "I'm not sure about messing with potions."

"Well, we've researched it and we don't think there's a way to just reverse the spell. Transforming Dave seems to have been a random misfire, and there's no way to duplicate the effect. This should work, though. Fluffy says so."

"Fluffy?"

"Yeah, I went and got it when Mike and Marsha showed up. It's been a big help."

"I'm sure it has. So if this potion changes Dave back into a guy, will it fix his memories too?"

"We think so."

"Think?" Margaret asked, disliking this more and more.

"Well, there's no way to know for sure, as we don't know what changed his memories, but it could just be the trauma of being transformed screwing with his mind. I've read about cases like this. Changing him back should be just like hitting an amnesiac over the head again."

"Does that actually work?"

"It does on TV. You should always believe what you see on TV, Margaret."

This is sounding crazier and crazier, but Roger's usually right about the crazy stuff, Margaret thought. "Okay, I'll bring him down. When will this potion be done?"

"It's almost done now, and you need to hurry. It loses its potency within half an hour."

Margaret hung up, then walked over to girl-Dave and gently shook her shoulder. "C'mon, Dave, Dahlia, whoever. Time to get up. We've found a solution."



Dave groaned as he came awake, a hand shaking his shoulder. "Ouch, that hurts. What happened?" he asked.

"You passed out," someone said. It sounded like Mark, but he still couldn't see anything. Were his eyes shut? "I'm sorry I hurt you, but you wouldn't stop."

"Yeah, I'm like that," Dave said. A cold weight was over his eyes, he realized, and he reached up to pull the damp washcloth away. Now he could see a blurry shape in front of him. He blinked, and he thought it became less blurry, but he could still see nothing distinct. He focused on what he could feel. It felt like he was reclining on the couch, sitting up with a pillow beneath his back. He ached all over, but that shouldn't surprise him. "I don't suppose I convinced you of anything?"

"You convinced me that you're even more stubborn than I thought. And you're a better fighter than I expected."

Dave shook his head, and discovered that he could make out Mark's face now. Not well—as blurry as his vision was, it looked no different from Margaret's—but at least he could separate it from the background. "Think about what's happened over the past couple of months. I doubt it happened the same way for you guys as it did for me, but I'm betting it was close. Think of the fights and arguments between the six of you, driving you apart, causing you to run off. Rose, too. You blamed Satan for all of it, and I think you're at least partly right. But what was his goal?"

"He wanted to get to me through my friends…"

"Or maybe he wanted to separate you from your friends. I think it was divide and conquer. Get each of us alone and vulnerable and use that to break us. He came close with me: that false angel almost took away what little hope I had. And Mike—well, that's another story."

"False angel?" Dave started to say something but Mark interrupted, "No, it's not important. It's all my fault, anyway."

Dave continued, "You aren't listening. It's not just you, it's all of us. Alone we're prey, maybe even tools he can use, but together we're a threat somehow. No, I don't know how, but that's what I think. If any of us runs off, he only makes himself vulnerable and the rest of us weaker."

"You really believe this, don’t you?" Mark asked.

Dave sighed, "Yeah. For all the good it does. You'll go on blaming yourself for everything no matter what."

"Well, we'll worry about that later. We need to get going."

"Huh, why?" Dave asked, but he was already swinging his feet off the couch and levering himself up. He winced at the pain, and even the wincing hurt.

Mark helped him to his feet while Dave tried to force his legs to obey. "Rose thinks she and the witches have found a way to fix your problem," Mark said. "For what it's worth, she says Fluffy agrees."

"Uh-huh. And would this solution involve turning me into a girl?" Dave asked.

"Well, yeah," Mark admitted.

"And what if I don't want to be one?"

"Look, I told you before, it's just that your memories are all screwed up. You liked being a woman."

"Even if my memories are mixed up, what I remember is being a guy. Why would I want to be a girl?"

"But once you're changed back, your memories will be fixed, too. At least that's what Rose thinks."

"And if they aren't? Then I'll just be a guy in a girl's body." Dave sighed. "I'm almost afraid to go down there, but we better get this straightened out now. Come on."

Dave limped into the hallway, refusing to lean on Mark. Any more than he had to, anyway. Chester followed behind, thankfully sensing that hitching a ride on Dave's chest might cause his soul-mate to topple over. I should have known better than to pick a fight with a male Margaret. I'm going to be aching for a month. Oddly, though, I do feel better. I guess I needed to get that out of my system. I wonder if I got through to him. He glanced at Mark, who looked concerned and guilty, though he tried to hide it. Ugh! He still thinks I'm Dahlia. Hopefully, I'll be able to disabuse him of that. They took the elevator rather than attempting to navigate the stairs, for which Dave was grateful, as his body didn't seem ready for anything more strenuous than a walk down the hallway.

They found the door to Steve's and Waldo's—no, make that Stella's and Wendy's—apartment ajar, a strange odor wafting out. Mark pushed the door wide, and Dave limped into the crowded apartment. Adam, Michelle, and Marvin were in the dining room, although Adam and Michelle were on opposite sides of the room. Through the open door to the kitchen, Dave could see three women he had never met but whom he recognized instantly. The girl with stiff, curly blond hair, glasses, and Fluffy in her arm had to be Rose, and her tee shirt saying "Queen of the Moon People" merely confirmed that. Stella and Wendy looked way too much like Steve and Waldo in dresses for Dave's comfort. They were huddled over the stove, ladling a purple liquid bubbling in the pot on the stove into a glass with Tweetey and Sylvester on it.

Adam was the first to see them enter, and his smile dropped away the moment he saw Dave's condition. "Good God, Dahlia!" he exclaimed. "What happened to you?"

"Look, I'm not Dahlia. I wish you guys would believe me. And until we get that sorted out, I'd rather not say what happened. But first, I want to know what Wendy and Stella are up to."

"We finished the potion that will change you back," said the female-Steve. "Although I think you ought to stay this way. You're much better looking," she said with a most unladylike leer.

"I agree," Dave said, and lasered the glass out of her hand, sending it crashing into the wall where it promptly shattered and sent its contents splashing over the wall and countertop. Several people screamed, but Dave couldn't tell who as Mark's startled jump had removed a vital support and he'd fallen to the floor.

"What the Hell was that?" Mark yelled at Dave as he levered himself off the floor yet again. The others were staring at him, and while there were murmurs between them, no one besides Mark spoke to Dave himself.

"That was my laservision," Dave said, as he regained his feet. "And have you noticed that I seem to be spending an unusual amount of time on the floor today? Even for me? I swear it's like gravity has it in for me or something." He wobbled but his legs seemed steady enough to keep him upright. Mark didn't offer to support him this time.

"When did that witch get laservision?" Stella asked.

"Yeah, that potion's supposed to be simmered, not microwaved," Wendy asserted.

Everyone else was staring at him like he might blast them at any moment. Even Mark seemed scared, in that about-to-go-for-his-guns way. Dave smiled, and he imagined that as bruised and puffy as his face was right now, it probably looked grotesque, maybe even threatening. He hoped so. "Mike, Roger, and I got really drunk after I made one of my stupid attempts to get Margaret to love me. We ended up swimming in a toxic pool, and we mutated. I got laservision."

He looked around, wondering whether anyone believed him. None of them seemed willing to be the first to speak. "Now do you believe me? I'm not Dahlia. And you are not my friends. Or my enemies." His eyes glowed briefly as he shot a look at Wendy and Stella, and they both took a step back. "I don't know what's going on any more than you do, but if Rose is anything like Roger, I suspect she does. Or at least that rock does." Rose looked scared and... Uh oh, Dave recognized that look. "Don't ruin your tee shirt on my account, Rose. I'm not going to hurt anyone, and besides, laservision beats werecoyote every time. Trust me, I know."

"Well, okay," Rose said, "I'll ask Fluffy." She whispered something to the rock, and soon they were engaged in a heated, if half-silent and half-whispered, debate. Dave only caught a few words, like "wormhole" and "quantum mechanics." After a while, Rose looked up from her rock and said, "Fluffy's just as confused about the whole laservision thing as I am, but it suggests that maybe Wendy's and Stella's spell actually worked."

"Huh?" Dave asked. "What do you mean?"

"Well, the spell wasn't supposed to change you—or Dahlia, if you aren't her—into a guy. It was supposed to send you to another plane of existence."

"You mean like an alternate dimension?" Adam asked. "Where everything's really similar to here but with slight differences?"

"Hmph. Since when did you become an expert on other planes of existence?" Michelle said.

"Since I read webcomics. Traveling to alternate dimensions happens all the time in them, like the Dimension of Portuguese in Sluggy. All the same people are in both dimensions, but they're different in small ways, like they speak Portuguese instead of English."

"Yes, that's exactly what Fluffy says," Rose answered. "Only in this dimension, everyone's the opposite gender. Other than that, events are mostly parallel, so that when Wendy and Stella were sending Dahlia to that dimension, their counterparts were sending Dave here."

"It makes more sense than most of Roger's theories," Dave said. "So how do we fix it?"

"I think," Rose replied, "that if Wendy and Stella just cast their spell again, it'll send Dave to wherever they sent Dahlia. Assuming that Dave and Dahlia just switched places, then that should put him back where he belongs. If everyone on the other side is doing the same thing, then they should be sending Dahlia back at the same time."

"Only it's never that easy in the webcomics," Adam said. "If there were more than two dimensions involved in the exchange, or if events don't exactly parallel—and they don't, not unless Dahlia has laservision and you and Michelle are mutants too—then things could get messy."



"Just drink it already," Margaret said. Her impatience was making her angry.

"It smells funny," the girl-Dave said, making a face as she peered into the glass full of the ugly purple liquid. She'd been doing that for over a quarter of an hour now. Everyone was crowded into Steve's and Waldo's little kitchen, waiting on her to decide whether to drink the potion. Margaret had tried her best to convince her to, and sometimes Mike and Marsha had joined in, but Roger and April had been mostly silent. So had Chelsea, who sat on the countertop and refused to go anywhere near the potion. Margaret was getting worried. If "Dahlia" wouldn't drink this stupid potion, then she'd—they would never get Dave back.

"Then hold your nose when you drink it," Margaret advised.

"But I don't want to be a boy," she whined, apparently giving up on excuses.

Waldo guffawed at that, and Steve said, "Hey, if she wants to be a girl, I don't see why we should be forcing her—"

"As if I can't see you staring at her breasts, Steve. And for the last time, Dave, you are a boy whether or not you look like one right now," Margaret said. "You're just messed up. If we don't fix it, there'll be a whole rash of problems that will come from it."

"Margaret's right," Mike said, gesturing with his tentacle. "Dahlia's" fearful eyes locked onto Mike's mutated appendage and tracked it, as they always did when she let herself look at Mike. Usually she did her best not to. "We need the Dave that's not afraid of our mutations. Whose laservision can make short work of jokers like these two. We don't need a scared little girl."

"You… you think I'm useless?" girl-Dave asked.

"Dave isn't," Mike said.

"If she's going to drink it, she better hurry," Roger said. "It loses its potency soon."

There was silence for several long minutes. "I want to be this hero you've all been talking about, but I'm afraid," she said.

"It's your choice," Margaret said. "But we need Dave."

"Dahlia" sighed, then closed her eyes as she lifted the glass to her lips.


This is a 2,926 word excerpt of a 17,473 word story rated PG-13.

Tuesday, September 30, 2008

Storyblogging Carnival XCII is accepting submissions
I'll be hosting the next Storyblogging Carnival, the ninety-second, here at Back of the Envelope. It'll be going up in a week--sorry for the delay, I sent out the e-mail last week, but neglected to post on the blog.

So, if you use your blog to share your fiction, then the Storyblogging Carnival is your opportunity. Here we host any and all forms of storytelling in blog format. If you're curious about what this looks like, have a look at some examples of previous storyblogging carnivals. This next carnival will be going up Octber 7th.

If you'd like to participate, please e-mail your story submissions to me at dscrank-at-alum-dot-mit-dot-edu (or post in my comments), including the following information:
  • Name of your blog
  • URL of your blog
  • Title of the story
  • URL for the blog entry where the story is posted
  • (OPTIONAL) Author's name
  • (OPTIONAL) A suggested rating for adult content (G, PG, PG-13, R)
  • A word count
  • A short blurb describing the story

The post may be of any age, from a week old to years old. The submission deadline is 11:59 PM Eastern time on Saturday, October 5th. More detailed information follows (same as always):
  1. The story or excerpt submitted must be posted on-line as a blog entry, and while fiction is preferred, non-fiction storytelling is acceptable.
  2. The story can be any length, but the Carnival will list them in order of length, from shortest to longest, and include a word count for each one.
  3. You may either send a complete story, a story in progress, or a lengthy excerpt. You should indicate the word count for both the excerpt and the complete story in the submission, and you should say how the reader can find more of the story in the post itself.
  4. If the story spans multiple posts, each post should contain a link to the beginning of the story, and a link to the next post. You may submit the whole story, the first post, or, if you've previously submitted earlier posts to the Carnival, the next post which you have not submitted. Please indicate the length of the entire story, as well as the portion which you are submitting.
  5. The host has sole discretion to decide whether the story will be included or not, or whether to indicate that the story has pornographic or graphically violent content. The ratings for the story will be decided by the host. I expect I'll be pretty lenient on that sort of thing, but I have some limits, and others may draw the line elsewhere. Aside from noting potentially offensive content, while I may say nice things about stories I like, I won't be panning anyone's work. I expect other hosts to be similarly polite.
  6. The story may be the blogger's own or posted with permission, but if it is not his own work he should gain permission from the author before submitting to the Carnival.

If you'd like to be added to the e-mail list, please let me know. Finally, I appreciate folks promoting the carnival on their own blogs, and I'm always looking for bloggers willing to host future carnivals.

Wednesday, September 10, 2008

Storyblogging Carnival XCI
Welcome to the ninety-first Storyblogging Carnival. This is actually our fourth anniversary. I was considering doing something special, but I've been pretty busy lately, and I'm pressed for time.

So, on to the carnival.


The Poetry of Dating
by Madeleine Begun Kane of Mad Kane's Humor Blog
A 150 word brief story rated G.

The story of a bad date in limerick form.


Rozie
by Mark Rayner of The Skwib
A 100 word brief story rated PG.

Rozie was a helluva' dame ...


Changes, Part V (First Part)
by Tom Harrison of Monday Evening
The next 500 words of a 4,000 word short story rated PG-13.

A fist-size window in a heavy door showed a hallway not much different from my cell. No padded walls, no hospital bed, no liars with clipboards. Part five of seven.


Crossing Over, Part V (The Whole Story)
by Donald S. Crankshaw of Back of the Envelope
The next 2,722 words of a 17,473 word short story rated PG-13.

Continuing the CRFH fanfiction, Dave gets into a fight


And Glory... (The first 13 chapters)
by Andrew Ian Dodge of Dodgeblogium
A 20,000 word excerpt from a novel rated PG.

"Considering the chaos in the EU right now…a bit of Eurosceptic cyberpunk could be seen as timely."

[Andrew says:
There is a new service for budding writers that is linked in this post. I think it might be interesting to your readers and contributors who are budding novelists.

Have a look.
-DSC]






This concludes the eighty-eighth Storyblogging Carnival.

If you'd like to take part in a future carnival, please contact me. I am also looking for hosts. Other carnivals can be found here.

The Storyblogging Carnival can be found at The Truth Laid Bear's ÜberCarnival.

Tuesday, September 9, 2008

Crossing Over: Part V
The Rest of the Story: The entire story can be found here.

This is awfully late for the Storyblogging Carnival, which should be going up soon (probably today). My excuse for both is that I've been busy. Hopefully I'll have enough time today to catch up.

This chapter contains the one scene that I wrote this story for. When I first imagined what would happen in the circumstances I describe, I really wanted to see how it play out. It seemed unlikely that the comic would explore this on its own, so I decided to write the scene myself. I think it worked well.

Once again, this is my one and only fanfiction. The characters, world, and events referenced belong to Maritza Campos of College Roomies from Hell!!!. Only the particular events described here are my own.


Chapter 5

"But-but—" Dave tried unsuccessfully to get a word in edgewise.

"Can I come?" Marvin asked.

"Sure," Michelle replied. "You can be the good cop."

"Aw, man! I wanted to be the bad cop." It occurred to Dave that those disturbing comments that were somehow cute coming from Marsha were really creepy when Marvin said them. The "sexy stalker" just did not work when the roles were reversed.

"Hmm, maybe we should do bad cop/worse cop," Michelle said, as she and Marvin headed down the hall, Marvin's hand at the small of her back.

"I'm not Dahlia!" Dave shouted at them, but was ignored. Well, his friends tuned him out when they had been the other gender too. The other gender? What, am I just accepting this strangeness now? Why the Hell not? It's not even the weirdest thing that's ever happened to us.

"I think you need to come in and sit down, Dahl… uh, Dave," Mark said. "I sent Adam to check on Rose and the witches. It's probably getting crowded down there right about now. Would you like something to drink?"

"Sure, why not?" Dave said. "I could use some water."

Mark let Dave into the apartment, and went to get him a glass from the kitchen, while Dave slumped onto the couch. Mark returned with the water. "Don't worry, I'm sure we'll get this fixed soon," he said, as he handed the glass to Dave.

"And what do you mean by fixed?" Dave asked, taking a sip. The glass held almost as much ice as water, so the liquid was numbingly cool.

"Changing you back, of course," he said, remaining on his feet. He looked as if he wanted to pace.

"I was afraid of that," Dave replied, settling the glass on his knee. Chester had sat down beside him, and now licked at the hand holding the glass. "Look, Mark, I'm not Dahlia."

"You just think—"

"What if I told you that you were the one who was supposed to be a girl? Would you want to change into one just because everyone said you should?"

"That's ridiculous. A girl version of me? I can't imagine I'd be anything like what I am if I'd been born a woman."

Dave snorted. "Yeah, it sounds ridiculous to you, but believe me, everything looks ridiculous to me. Ridiculous or not, though, I'm staying the way I am."

Mark frowned. "I… I really wish you wouldn't. But… maybe it's better this way. Maybe, if there's no chance of us being together, then Satan will leave you alone. You'll be safe—" Dave slammed the glass down on the coffee table, causing the ice and water inside to slosh about but surprisingly not breaking the glass. Chester jumped away from him with a startled yowl.

"What are you—?" Mark began, but he snapped his mouth shut when Dave bounced to his feet.

Dave barely came to Mark's chin, but he still got up close, forcing him to take a step back. "You're doing the same thing to her as Margaret did to me, aren't you? You let her get close, then push her away. Again, and again, and again!"

"Can't you see that I'm trying to protect you?"

"Oh, I get it. It's okay for you to protect me, even if that means lying to me and hurting me, but God forbid I try to protect you. That's just smothering."

"Hey, that's different. I'm a man and you're a—" Mark staggered back, rubbing his jaw where Dave had just punched him. "Hey, what the—?"

"Don't you dare say that! Where I come from you're the woman, and you still think the same way," Dave said. Chester leapt from the couch and darted into the bedroom, probably going to hide under the bed. Good, it's best if he's not here.

"Well, I'm right. It's me Satan wants. If you'd stay out of my business, you'd be safe. There's nothing you can do to help me, so why can't you leave me the Hell alone?"

"You promised to let me help!"

"You blackmailed me into that promise! I thought you were sorry for that."

"So did I, but now it's obvious that it was the only way to get you to listen to reason. You're going to get yourself killed if you try to fight him all by yourself."

Mark loomed over Dave, shaking his finger in his face. "What makes you think you can help? Since when did you become an expert on Satan?"

Dave pushed the finger aside and said, "Since I had my soul torn out, went to Hell, came back with part of me in a cat, and then had Satan try to put me back together before God smote him. What are your qualifications? Bad dreams?"

Dave leapt back when he saw the uppercut coming, so it didn't have the full force it should have, but Mark's knuckles still made contact with his chin. Dave landed poorly and nearly lost his balance, but managed to remain upright. He fingered the tender spot underneath his chin. Mark let his fists fall to his sides, where they trembled as he fought to control his hoarse breathing. He said, "You know nothing of my nightmares! Nothing!"

"Do you know what your problem is, Mark?" Dave said. "It's that you believe those dreams. You should"—he charged—"know better!"

Dave tackled Mark, arms around his waist, and they both went down.



Margaret knelt on the floor and looked under the bed, to where "Dahlia" was hiding. Chester, or whatever it was called now, watched carefully, but made no move to stop her. "Um, Dahlia?" she said. It was hard calling him that, but it was how he—she—perceived herself. "You can come out now."

"Are—are they gone?" came the quavering answer.

"Yeah, Mike and Marsha went downstairs to check on Roger and the Satanists."

"What are they?"

"For Cthulhu's sake, Dave! They're Mike and Marsha!"

A hand reached out from under the bed and Margaret grabbed hold before it could withdraw. A moment later the head appeared, the long brown hair laced with dust. The girl-Dave sneezed, puffing up a cloud of the substance. Margaret helped her to her feet, and she just stood there, eyes downcast. "I'm not Dave," she said. "And I don't know who Mike and Marsha are. They had, I mean, they were…"

"They're mutants," Margaret said, firmly. "Just like you."

"But I'm not!" she insisted, sniffling again. Margaret wondered how much of that was dust and how much emotion. "I'm not a freak!"

"I'm not saying you're a freak," Margaret said. "No more than the rest of us, although that's not saying much."

"How could I be a mutant and not be a freak, huh? You called me one yourself! It's weird enough that I have a soul-cat, but nobody notices that."

"Hey, sure, you have laservision, but that's like having the coolest superpower ever. I mean, Marsha's wings come close, but given the choice, I'd want the laservision."

"Dahlia" smiled, just a small upturning of the lips. "You always were a gun-nut."

"So you believe me now?" Margaret said.

"Maybe. I think it's weird enough to be a blue mushroom trip, at least."

"Yeah, welcome to our life," Margaret said. "Though, personally, I think it's too weird for an hallucination."

"I don't get it, though. The Mark I remember is a man's man, a martial artist and a marksman, a survivalist. You claim to be a female version of him, but I can't imagine any woman being remotely like him."

Margaret forced herself not to get angry. If any man had questioned her abilities, she'd demonstrate them until he begged for mercy. She'd given Dave ample demonstration, and he'd never even questioned her ability, although her attitude clearly bothered him. Having this female Dave express skepticism of Margaret's martial spirit was infuriating and, maybe, a bit worrisome. Margaret tried not to think about such things, but sometimes she did worry that something was wrong with her. Something that Satan was trying to exploit. "Look, I'm just as tough as any guy," she said. "In fact, I don't know any guy who can keep up with me. Except maybe you."

"Me?" she squeaked. "I'm not tough. I'm a wimp, really. Are you saying boy-me is some macho hero?"

Margaret snorted. "I'd hardly call you that. For the longest time I thought you were a wimp, and a coward. You aren't, though. I've seen you keep going when I wanted to lie down and die, because you were unwilling to give up on me. Maybe it's only danger to someone you love that brings it out of you, but you're tougher and braver than you give yourself credit."

The cat—Chelsea, Margaret thought—mewed from the bed, and girl-Dave turned around to pick it up. When she turned back, she said, "You're nicer than Mark is, at least. He keeps pushing me away just when we start to get close."

"Well, um…" Margaret cleared her throat. "Let's get out of here. This apartment isn't exactly safe for those without superpowers."

"Huh?" She looked around. "What do you mean?"

"Okay, I guess the laundry pile is just as afraid of you as you are of it, but the kitchen tends to breed things, and sometimes they get loose. I never come here unarmed myself."

Girl-Dave was nearly tripping on Margaret's heels as she followed her to the girls' apartment. Once they were settled, Margaret got her some water and they sat down on the couch. Once "Dahlia" had washed down the dust, Margaret tried to work her way around to the question she wanted to ask. It was weird, but it might clarify a few things. "Tell me about this Mark you remember."

"Why? You don't think he really exists," she replied.

"Well, no, but I do want to know what a male version of me would be like, whether he's real or just a faulty memory," Margaret said. What I really want to know is whether he's normal. Is the only thing weird about me that I'm a woman who's into these things, or… is there something else?

"Well, he's kind of a jerk," girl-Dave said. She wasn't looking at Margaret. Instead she was hunched over, her eyes on the coffee table where her finger was tracing patterns in the moisture left by the glass, so she didn't see Margaret flinch. "Like I said, you're much nicer. He's self-obsessed, thinking everything's about him, and paranoid, although not without reason, I guess. I was crazy about him at one time, but he just kept hurting me until I finally let go."

"Wait a minute," Margaret said. She suddenly had a very clear image of Mark doing to "Dahlia" some of the things she had done to Dave, and that image made her nauseous. "Are you saying that Mark hit you?"



Dave's head was whipped to the side as Mark's roundhouse punch made contact, and he toppled over. Dave was clearly overmatched. He didn't have Mark's mass or his training, and he'd barely managed to keep up for this long. His arms had been twisted in directions which they weren't meant to go from Mark's attempts to pin him in some wrestling move or other, his legs trembled at the mere thought of supporting him again, his chest and stomach ached from the bruises Mark had given him. His face was the least injured, although there was a burn from the carpet along one cheek where Dave had slid along the floor, and that last punch was likely to leave him with another black eye. In truth, though, Dave thought Mark was going easy on him. No matter how many times Dave attacked him, he always seemed to let up the moment he came close to really hurting him. Right now, he stood over Dave, but he made no move to take advantage of Dave's supine position.

"Stop this, Dahl—Dave. I don't want to hurt you," Mark said.

Dave tried to catch his breath, pulling himself up with one hand clutching the arm of the couch. "You think this hurts? No matter how many times you beat me up, it never hurt as much as what you said." He stood there with his hand on the couch's arm. He didn't think he needed it to keep standing, but it was comforting that it was there.

"You think I… hit you before?"

"All the time," he said, panting. "And I took it. You were the girl, and even if you were a psychopath, that's what I was supposed to do: take your abuse and not fight back." Dave pulled his hand from the couch, and though he tottered, he stayed on his feet.

He took a step forward and swung at Mark, but Mark was ready for him. He blocked the first punch, and the second. The third was a feint which allowed the fourth to get through, but Dave might as well have been hitting rock as Mark's stomach. Still, he'd scored a hit. Playing defense isn't working for you, is it? Apparently Mark thought the same, and when Dave attacked again, Mark caught his arm and threw him onto the floor. The air went out of Dave's lungs in a rush as his back hit the carpet and his head thumped against it, and for a moment all he saw were stars. He was beginning to appreciate the carpet. Ugly as it was, it at least cushioned his fall. A little. When he could make out the ceiling, he rolled onto his stomach and levered himself up so he could see Mark, who was standing over him.

"Stay down! Don't make me hurt you!" Mark said.

"I never stay down," Dave said, coming to his feet. "I'm too stubborn and stupid to know what's good for me."

Dave's clumsy punch missed by a mile, but at least he avoided Mark's attempt to catch hold of him. Months of trying to avoid Mike's tentacle had at least improved Dave's ability to evade grappling holds which didn't involve any superfast and superstrong tentacles. His second swing was on target, but easily blocked by Mark, who punched back this time, striking Dave square in the stomach. Dave doubled over, arms cradling his sore middle, and if Mark had swung again, he might have knocked him out. Instead he backed up.

After forcing himself to take a few painful breaths, Dave said, "You can't win, you know."

"Huh? You can barely stand!"

"No, not against me. Against Satan. You can't beat him…" He drew another painful breath.

"I know I can't stop him," Mark said. "But maybe I can make it impossible for him to use me, and stop him from hurting you."

"Alone! I ran out of breath before I could say that. You can't defeat him alone."

"Do you really think you can help me, Dahlia? What can you do?"

"Not just me. All of us. Mike—Michelle and Marvin, Adam and, um, Rose. Dahlia. We only stand a chance together."

"It's a nice sentiment, Dahlia, but what makes you think it's true? Wishful think—" This time Dave's punch scored a direct hit. Mark would have a black eye from that. Before Dave could follow up, though, Mark hammered him in the chest and he stumbled backwards.

"What do I have to do to make you stop?" Mark said as Dave staggered forward again.

Dave paused, his arm lifted and ready to swing. "Just tell me the truth."

"The truth? About what?"

"Just once, tell me how you feel about… me. No more lies, no more hypotheticals. Just say it, so I know."

"All right! All right. I feel that you're a stubborn idiot who's going to get yourself killed because you don't know what's best for you, but no matter how hard I tried to stop it, I still love you."

Dave let his fist drop. "Yeah, I thought so." He sighed, and it felt like all the strength in his body fled with that breath. His vision lost focus, and everything went dark.


This is a 2,706 word except of a 17,473 word short story.

Friday, September 5, 2008

Wealth
So, I was thinking a bit about economics. People in my Thursday night small group were talking about how guilty they felt that they lived in one of the richest countries in the world. Even a low income family in the US ($30,000 two income) was richer than 97% of the rest of the world. I pointed out that the natural state of human beings was not being rich, but being poor. We come into the world naked and with nothing, and we need to work to create anything. The question we should be asking is not, "Why are some people poor?", but "Why is anybody rich?" And if the inequality bothers us, then we can add "How do we make more people wealthy?" The exact wrong question to ask is "How do we stop people from being rich?" That's been tried. That's what communism was all about. The idea was that if we could stop people from being richer than others, then everybody would be equally rich. The problem was that everywhere communism was tried, everybody became equally poor. Why was that? Well, I'm not an economist, so I may get some of this wrong, but the number one reason is the following:

Rule 1: Economics is not a zero sum game.

Way too many people, including bright, college educated people, think that it is. They think that if some people are rich, it must be because they took their money from other people, making them poorer. This basic misconception is behind a lot of bad ideas, including political movements and public policy.

Wealth, unlike energy and matter, can be created and destroyed. When a carpenter buys wood, and using hammer, nails, saw, and lathe, makes it into a chair, he has created something more valuable than the wood he bought. He then sells it for more than the cost of all the things he put into it, because it is more valuable than everything he put into it. He created wealth, and he earns a profit because he did.

Rule 2: Profit is the result of creating wealth.

In the ideal case, the amount of profit you make is roughly equivalent to the amount of wealth you create. From the carpenter to the office worker to the CEO, your compensation should reflect your value. Which leads us to:

Rule 3: The wealthiest people are those who create the most wealth.

And yes, this applies to nations as well. The US is the richest nation in the world not because it stole from everyone else, but because it creates the most wealth. Other nations do not get poorer because the US is so wealthy--in fact, they can and do get richer.

Rule 4: Creating wealth benefits everyone.

It is true, certain people are misers. They hoard their wealth rather than spending it. Most people, though, spend wealth. Rich people spend more money. This redistributes the wealth, making more people wealthy. People in the US, in general, have more, because the wealth that is created is spread around. It is not distributed evenly, but it is distributed well enough that even the poor in the US are richer than most other people in the world.

But what if our vision is greater than just the US? What if we want the rest of the world to get richer, too? Well, we could just give them money. That seems to be the way some people want to do it. This, at best, just spreads the current wealth around. At worst, however, the inverse of Rule 1 comes into play. Wealth can be created, and wealth can be destroyed. When wealth is consumed rather than exchanged, we are effectively destroying the wealth. This actually hurts, not helps, from a purely economic point of view. Of course, I'm not advocating letting hungry people starve. I am saying that a much better way is to help them be wealth-makers too. This means things like free trade, outsourcing, all the bugaboos of people who prefer to just give the needy money rather than help them make money.

Rule 5: The rules aren't perfect.

This is also a hard one, as lots of people think they can, by the force of regulation and legislation, force the rules to be perfect. They can't. This is a fallen world filled with imperfect humans. And all monetary transfers are based not on the true value of something, but on the perception of it. Some people are way overpaid for the work that they do, and some are way underpaid. Some people are given less opportunity to create wealth, and others are given more. Some live up to their promise, some fall short, and some go above and beyond. And of course, some people do make their money not by creating wealth, but by taking what others make.

Lots of wealth is wasted on things that aren't as valuable as they seem, lots of wealth created isn't properly compensated, and lots gets lost in the black holes of bureaucracy and litigation.

But, you know what? We can live with that. As long as we're creating more wealth than we're destroying, we can afford losing some.

Rule 6: Economics isn't everything.

As I said earlier, wealth can be destroyed. And a lot of things that we consider very important destroy wealth without creating more. As I said before when talking about waste, we can live with that. Wealth, and the creation thereof, isn't everything. And some things that don't have any obvious wealth creating benefits should be done simply because they are the right things to do. And this works as long as we're creating more wealth. If that ever stops, if we're just consuming and redistributing it, then anything that destroys wealth is intolerable. This is why rich, western countries can afford things like welfare and universal health care and social security. They create enough wealth that consuming it in that way doesn't destroy the economy. Poorer countries aren't so lucky.
Obama: A go along to get along politician?
So I've been thinking a bit about Obama. It shouldn't be surprising that I'm not his biggest fan. He talks a lot about post-partisanship and reform, but he has no record of doing it. In fact, he has the most liberal voting record in the Senate. Despite that, I'm willing to give him the benefit of the doubt, to believe that he means well and believes what he says. Why the disconnect then? Why does he talk the talk, but not walk the walk? Why does he speak out against racial obsession, corruption, and extremism, yet have such disturbing connections with the likes of Jeremiah Wright, Tony Rezko, and William Ayers? It may not be so much that he's a hypocrite, but rather, that he tends to take the easy way out. He came into politics in Chicago, where Wright, Rezko, and Ayers were among the movers and shakers. True, they have disturbing pasts, and do and say disturbing things, but why rock the boat? Why not just go with the flow, and deal with the people everyone else deals wtih, rather than take a principled stand?

In the state legislature, why fight the system? Why not just go along with it? The one thing he most cites as a demonstration of his good judgement, being against the war in Iraq, hardly goes against this. He was in the state legislature at the time, and representing one of the most liberal districts in the state. Everyone he knew was against the war, so once again, he goes along with it.

In the Senate, the pressure is even stronger, especially for a junior Senator. Support the Democratic agenda, vote with your caucus. Don't make waves. It's no accident that he has a perfect liberal voting record. Once again, it's the path of least resistance.

I'm not sure running for President was all that different. People were talking about him running even as he was saying he wasn't ready. He was being encouraged on all sides. Why not toss his hat into the ring? It's not like he stood a chance to win anyway. Being against the war and for withdrawal was hardly an act of moral courage--at that point, with the war going badly, most people were against it. And with a record of being against it from the start, he had a decisive advantage in staking out the popular position that everyone else was scrabbling for.

I really think he means well, but I don't think he has a consistent philosophy or principles strong enough to hold against the tide. When pushed to explain why he believes what he believes, he fumbles. When his position becomes unpopular, he retreats. He talks about hope and change, because those are popular things, but his agenda is the same as the liberal agenda has always been.

Now, I could be taking him wrong. This is an impression from an engineer who's been paying only cursory attention to the election to this point. But it is what it looks like to me.