The question of Schnarzians
Mar. 25th, 2008 11:48 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
pjthompsonIn which ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
hominysnark asks questions for which I give the answers.
If you would like me, in turn, to grill you with five impertinent questions, please leave a comment expressing such desire. Anyone not expressing the desire for questioning gets a free pass in the comments zone.
1. What do you think your biggest writing strengths are?
Certainly not my spare prose and tight pacing. :-(
I used to say character and dialogue, but my characters have gotten rather drifty lately, and my dialogue was once described to me by a Prominent Editor as sounding like it came from a sitcom. Not once, but twice. Ow. I might also say worldbuilding, but I've been recently informed that there were too many intrusions of this Earth into my alternate Earth to be believable.
2. How did you and Min come to belong to each other?
The roommate has a long-standing tradition of feeding strays, which I wholeheartedly support. We're currently feeding five on a regular basis (some of which actually do have homes) plus opossum and raccoons and squirrels and birds. Not quite two years ago a little black kitty showed up. She was so terrified of everybody and everything, and the other cats used to beat her up because she was so small. It took close to two months of feeding and baby talk before she'd let us get near and then quite suddenly one day she not only let me pet her but decided I was her Saviour and became the most lovey dovey kitty imaginable. (She knew a mark when she saw one and correctly identified the weakest link in our household.) The roommate has a bird and wouldn't let me bring the cat in the house but Black Kitty and I wore her down. Me, by putting a door up at the entrance to my section of the house, Black Kitty by mewing pitifully to be let in on the front porch every night. I also am not ashamed to admit that tears were involved. Min moved in September 1, 2006.
(See what I meant about spare prose and tight pacing?)
3. Is there an author whose books make you squeal like a little girl when you see a new one is out?
There are a number who make me tingly with anticipation, but I haven't squealed in quite some time: anything by Charlaine Harris, Kage Baker, J. D. Robb. I guess the closest I came to squealing was when I saw that Ilona Andrew's Magic Burns was on the shelves of my local B&N (end of the aisle display, too!).
4. You and I get together for a weekend of movie-watching--what's on the bill?
The Beast of Yucca Flats, Manos: the Hands of Fate, Gamara, Santa Claus vs. the Martians and other horrifically bad horror/sf movies, accompanied by a healthy helping of snark.
5. Why do my pens keep disappearing? (Be as creative as possible.)
Okay, the first interstellar passenger liner from the planet Schnarz went through a wormhole that, remarkably, nobody had noticed before in the planet's atmosphere. The ship got pooped back out again in orbit around Earth. Incredibly, no satellite on Earth, including the super duper Star Wars Secret Grid, noticed that a wormhole butt orbited our planet, either. So the Schnarzians, low on fuel, with their ship seriously messed up and no idea how to get the wormhole opened up again, were forced to crash land on Earth.
Fortunately for them, they crash landed in a parkland part of Orlando, Florida so their presence was not immediately noticed. I mean, someone may have noticed a bright light plummeting from the sky, but they probably took it for debris from the space shuttle or some such, so no big. Space junk is always raining down on South Florida.
The other reason no one noticed their space ship crash? The Schnarzians are all about six inches tall. Their space ship just wasn't all that big. They covered it up with a palm frond, to be exact, while they desperately try to repair it. They've made a snug shelter for themselves inside a discarded 2.5 gallon plastic water bottle which they meticulously carved a door into and laboriously shoved and pushed and pullied into the root cavity of a nearby tree. They scrounge food out of trash cans and pantries, making good use of dog doors and the like, and using teeny tiny little climbing gear which they fashioned from spools of thread, needles and pins that they "liberated" from nearby houses.
However, the bane of their existence are mice, rats, cats, dogs and other creatures in the area. These creatures don't see them as sentient beings so much as quick snacks. In fact, Mrs. Welchmainasprongistota, the wealthy and exceedingly selfish socialite who wouldn't listen to the noble and heroic crew, got eaten by a Springer Spaniel. She found a piece of chocolate that some kid had left half-eaten and decided, instead of sharing with the other passengers and crew, to sneak it back to the exclusive little bungalow she'd insisted the crew make for her out of a rattan basket in "a better part of the forest." Mrs. W. was a fit woman—all the best body enhancements money could buy and a regular at Klavenhutterumptian's Gym back on good ol' Schnarz, but that was a big piece of chocolate. (Parents really shouldn't buy the big chunk bars for two year olds.) Skippy the Spriner Spaniel did love him some chocolate and sniffed it right out. And, as it turned out, Mrs. Welchmainasprongistota. Yum-yum! A twofer!
So, anyway, as you can see, the Schnarzians are in constant need of weapons to fend off these gigantic monsters. They've made themselves a primitive but effective ballista, but the projectiles tend to get imbedded in the monsters and carried off or lost in the forest, so they have to constantly scrounge for more, along with food and "spare parts" for the repair of the ship, and etc.
And that's why your pens keep disappearing.
Have you noticed any needle and thread missing, or big hunks of cheese? Have your cats seemed unusually interested in something behind the stove and fridge? Have you found any bent safety pins imbedded in tables with trailing string down to the floor? Do you ever get the feeling that someone has been bathing in that cup of half-drunk chamomile tea you left on the coffee table overnight? Any tiny footprints on your forehead when you get up in the morning (other than the catprints, that is)?
You may have Schnarzians.
hominysnark asks questions for which I give the answers.If you would like me, in turn, to grill you with five impertinent questions, please leave a comment expressing such desire. Anyone not expressing the desire for questioning gets a free pass in the comments zone.
1. What do you think your biggest writing strengths are?
Certainly not my spare prose and tight pacing. :-(
I used to say character and dialogue, but my characters have gotten rather drifty lately, and my dialogue was once described to me by a Prominent Editor as sounding like it came from a sitcom. Not once, but twice. Ow. I might also say worldbuilding, but I've been recently informed that there were too many intrusions of this Earth into my alternate Earth to be believable.
2. How did you and Min come to belong to each other?
The roommate has a long-standing tradition of feeding strays, which I wholeheartedly support. We're currently feeding five on a regular basis (some of which actually do have homes) plus opossum and raccoons and squirrels and birds. Not quite two years ago a little black kitty showed up. She was so terrified of everybody and everything, and the other cats used to beat her up because she was so small. It took close to two months of feeding and baby talk before she'd let us get near and then quite suddenly one day she not only let me pet her but decided I was her Saviour and became the most lovey dovey kitty imaginable. (She knew a mark when she saw one and correctly identified the weakest link in our household.) The roommate has a bird and wouldn't let me bring the cat in the house but Black Kitty and I wore her down. Me, by putting a door up at the entrance to my section of the house, Black Kitty by mewing pitifully to be let in on the front porch every night. I also am not ashamed to admit that tears were involved. Min moved in September 1, 2006.
(See what I meant about spare prose and tight pacing?)
3. Is there an author whose books make you squeal like a little girl when you see a new one is out?
There are a number who make me tingly with anticipation, but I haven't squealed in quite some time: anything by Charlaine Harris, Kage Baker, J. D. Robb. I guess the closest I came to squealing was when I saw that Ilona Andrew's Magic Burns was on the shelves of my local B&N (end of the aisle display, too!).
4. You and I get together for a weekend of movie-watching--what's on the bill?
The Beast of Yucca Flats, Manos: the Hands of Fate, Gamara, Santa Claus vs. the Martians and other horrifically bad horror/sf movies, accompanied by a healthy helping of snark.
5. Why do my pens keep disappearing? (Be as creative as possible.)
Okay, the first interstellar passenger liner from the planet Schnarz went through a wormhole that, remarkably, nobody had noticed before in the planet's atmosphere. The ship got pooped back out again in orbit around Earth. Incredibly, no satellite on Earth, including the super duper Star Wars Secret Grid, noticed that a wormhole butt orbited our planet, either. So the Schnarzians, low on fuel, with their ship seriously messed up and no idea how to get the wormhole opened up again, were forced to crash land on Earth.
Fortunately for them, they crash landed in a parkland part of Orlando, Florida so their presence was not immediately noticed. I mean, someone may have noticed a bright light plummeting from the sky, but they probably took it for debris from the space shuttle or some such, so no big. Space junk is always raining down on South Florida.
The other reason no one noticed their space ship crash? The Schnarzians are all about six inches tall. Their space ship just wasn't all that big. They covered it up with a palm frond, to be exact, while they desperately try to repair it. They've made a snug shelter for themselves inside a discarded 2.5 gallon plastic water bottle which they meticulously carved a door into and laboriously shoved and pushed and pullied into the root cavity of a nearby tree. They scrounge food out of trash cans and pantries, making good use of dog doors and the like, and using teeny tiny little climbing gear which they fashioned from spools of thread, needles and pins that they "liberated" from nearby houses.
However, the bane of their existence are mice, rats, cats, dogs and other creatures in the area. These creatures don't see them as sentient beings so much as quick snacks. In fact, Mrs. Welchmainasprongistota, the wealthy and exceedingly selfish socialite who wouldn't listen to the noble and heroic crew, got eaten by a Springer Spaniel. She found a piece of chocolate that some kid had left half-eaten and decided, instead of sharing with the other passengers and crew, to sneak it back to the exclusive little bungalow she'd insisted the crew make for her out of a rattan basket in "a better part of the forest." Mrs. W. was a fit woman—all the best body enhancements money could buy and a regular at Klavenhutterumptian's Gym back on good ol' Schnarz, but that was a big piece of chocolate. (Parents really shouldn't buy the big chunk bars for two year olds.) Skippy the Spriner Spaniel did love him some chocolate and sniffed it right out. And, as it turned out, Mrs. Welchmainasprongistota. Yum-yum! A twofer!
So, anyway, as you can see, the Schnarzians are in constant need of weapons to fend off these gigantic monsters. They've made themselves a primitive but effective ballista, but the projectiles tend to get imbedded in the monsters and carried off or lost in the forest, so they have to constantly scrounge for more, along with food and "spare parts" for the repair of the ship, and etc.
And that's why your pens keep disappearing.
Have you noticed any needle and thread missing, or big hunks of cheese? Have your cats seemed unusually interested in something behind the stove and fridge? Have you found any bent safety pins imbedded in tables with trailing string down to the floor? Do you ever get the feeling that someone has been bathing in that cup of half-drunk chamomile tea you left on the coffee table overnight? Any tiny footprints on your forehead when you get up in the morning (other than the catprints, that is)?
You may have Schnarzians.
no subject
Date: 2008-03-25 07:54 pm (UTC)And Brava! The Schnarzian invasion was a masterpiece of silliness, and I thank you. (And Schnarzian names sound a lot like Dr. Frink from The Simpsons.)
no subject
Date: 2008-03-25 07:57 pm (UTC)Schnarzians: A loving rip off of Land of the Giants, but a few of my own touches.
no subject
Date: 2008-03-25 08:55 pm (UTC)Yay!
no subject
Date: 2008-03-25 08:51 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-03-25 09:33 pm (UTC)2. Have you gone native yet? How about now?
3. Do you ever have time to think of anything else besides that incredibly rich and detailed worldbuilding of yours, and what would that be?
4. What do you like most about being a writer and what do you like least?
5. Knitting, crochet, macrame or basket weaving?
6. How do you feel about people who sneak two questions into one or extra ones at the end of the poll?
no subject
Date: 2008-03-26 09:43 am (UTC)Hmmm, already your first question has me stumped. I'll say unlimited life-time travel passes for Julien and me, good for any kind of transportation with any company, any time of the year to any destination we want. Food and lodging included, naturally.
2. Have you gone native yet? How about now?
Not where Mayotte is concerned. I still have too many American and European hang-ups and expectations to meld too far into Mahorais culture. It doesn't seduce me all that much. However, if you are talking about becoming more French than American, I'd have to say it's a narrower gulf to straddle.
3. Do you ever have time to think of anything else besides that incredibly rich and detailed worldbuilding of yours, and what would that be?
Yes! :D I'm always thinking, thinking, thinking...about characters and how to make the reader ache along with them, about plot and how I never think I have enough of it, about failing, about when the next rugby match is, about human foibles, about books--the ones I want to read as well as the ones I want to write...
4. What do you like most about being a writer and what do you like least?
I like having the chance to make people feel, to make them care, question, laugh, cry. What I like the least is how success is measured for writers. I hate that no matter what I accomplish, all my hard work and years at the keyboard will only gain value for others if it becomes a commercial success, ie basically with a large helping of dumb luck.
5. Knitting, crochet, macrame or basket weaving?
Knitting: perhaps someday. I have no desire to touch yarn in this hot climate!
Crochet: I've done it before, and I enjoyed it.
Macrame: Only in jewelry making
Basket weaving: I would love to learn!
6. How do you feel about people who sneak two questions into one or extra ones at the end of the poll?
Impertinent, I tell you! Downright rascally!
no subject
Date: 2008-03-25 11:18 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-03-25 11:29 pm (UTC)