I’m pleased to announce that my latest short story, “The Shipwrecked Sole Survivor” has been published in Phobos Issue Four: Deep Black Sea! This issue is now available in print on Amazon.com and should be available later on for Kindle.
If you’re interested in dark tales of what lies beneath a calm sea then you will love this issue! It contains thirteen short stories, flash fiction and poetry including one by yours truly. Check it out and be sure to leave a review so others know what you thought!
You may remember Phobos from the Publisher’s Spotlight feature for this issue nearly a year ago. They are currently closed for submissions but be sure to check out their website and follow them on twitter for updates on their next theme.
This is a spoiler-free discussion, although some general plot points might be touched on. Can’t say the same of whatever comments are below. You’ve been warned.
So, I finally finished series four of Sherlock Holmes last night. As I was sitting in the afterglow, warm and fuzzy, unwilling to watch anything else lest the spell break, I was struck with a realization. The plot of The Final Problem… did not hold up.
The more I thought about it the more I was able to unravel details that bothered me. I’m a nitpicker by nature, so this wasn’t a new feeling, but I wondered why I didn’t notice the problems while I was watching it. Furthermore, why was I trying so desperately to excuse its faults?
I’ve felt like this at least once before, directly after a screening of The Dark Knight Rises. I remember that same feeling of “Wow. Such a good way to wrap up the trilogy,” while sitting in the theater, and then listening to my friends bitch the whole way home about all the stupid details and why they didn’t enjoy it.
I’ve also been that person, most notably during and directly after Avatar, which I hate with the fiery passion of a thousand suns. (Ok, maybe not that much, but it’s pretty bad.) I hate the premise. I hate every detail. I will concede that the visuals were all right (even downright impressive, assuming you had never seen Who Framed Roger Rabbit and/or any of the Pixar cannon.) But in general I can’t forgive that movie.
So what gives? Why am I so harsh on Avatar when The Dark Knight Rises has third act that basically revolves around this plot point:
Some days you just can’t get rid of a bomb.
Well, it basically boils down to three things:
Context
Audience Goodwill
Emotional Resonance
Context
It is entirely possible to hide a bad movie plot through fast pacing and clever editing. For example, Memento has one of those plots that wouldn’t make very much sense (or be particularly interesting) if the story was played in chronological order. Cutting it up keeps the audience on the edge of their seat and obscures some of the more head-scratching details.
Genre also matters. You can maintain an audience’s suspension of disbelief based on what their expectations are. Star Wars can play fast and loose with physics because it’s essential a space adventure series but everyone lost their minds when the crew in Prometheus removed their helmets on the planet. (I know, I was one of them.) The Alien franchise is a survival-horror series so we’re much more critical of any “stupid” action our heroes take. Also, it tends to have a stricter adherence to the “science” part of science-fiction and generally takes itself more seriously.
Er… most of the time.
When it comes to Avatar, the visuals were the big draw. The people who loved it usually didn’t care about the plot. They wanted the immersive experience of a 3D film and a rich fantasy world. Personally, if I’m going to be blown away by visuals I’d like a simple, compact story with little room for convoluted plot contrivances. (See: Mad Max: Fury Road.)
Context is entirely subjective. What some may forgive others have a hard time getting behind. Likewise, what some consider groundbreaking innovation others may see as a cheap gimmick. So let’s move on to…
Audience Goodwill
Both The Dark Knight Rises and The Final Problem are the last installments of a franchise. In respect to context, we want them to be good because we want to say that it goes out on a good note. At this point in both respective series they’ve build up enough audience goodwill to withstand some criticism.
And sometimes a movie is just so bad it can’t be saved. (Looking at you, Spiderman 3.) Context matters in this case, too. The first two Spiderman movies were fairly successful and received decent reviews. But what changed between 2 and 3? Batman Begins came out and suddenly the cultural landscape of comic book movies changed. Audiences loved the dark and gritty realism of Nolan’s take on the character and suddenly they were less forgiving of the Raimi series and its camp. The pendulum swung back the other way in the middle of the Amazing Spiderman series, with #2 losing out to Guardians of the Galaxy, which reminded everyone that camp can be fun.
So this gets collective pass, but we can’t forgive Tobey Maguire?
This doesn’t just apply to serialized properties. Both Wonder Woman and Captain America: The First Avenger had weak third acts but their movies held up without having to rely on previous installments. The first two-thirds of the film buoyed them when their endings started to tank. The reason they had so much goodwill comes down to the time spent on character development. And that leads us to…
Emotional Resonance
When you have good characters the audience wants them to succeed.
I care about Nolan’s Batman. I care about Sherlock and Watson. I care about Wonder Woman and Captain America. So when they come out on top, I’m happy about that, even if the way they got there might’ve been a touch stupid.
I’m going to backtrack and talk about Spiderman 3 again as a comparison. I think one of the reasons that movie lost so much goodwill is because the character of Peter Parker is such a tool. (At least in that film.) In the first two we empathize with his struggles, his internal conflicts and related to him as a flawed hero. By the end of the third movie we don’t care if he succeeds because he’s become so unlikable as a protagonist.
In Pratt’s defense he never had to make up for a scene like this.
Contrary to that, when Batman finally passes the torch at the end of The Dark Knight Rises, I felt a swell of emotion. During the montage of Sherlock and John solving cases together at the end of in The Final Problem I felt satisfied with how they wrapped everything up. For once the details were just details, and I was able to let it go because of the way it resonated with me emotionally.
It’s a lot easier to forgive something that makes you happy, even if that happiness is entirely subjective.
Additional thoughts
When I originally wrote this, I put a disclaimer saying that this discussion doesn’t apply to intentionally self-aware camp, so-bad-it’s-good schlock, or guilty pleasure movies. I want to retract that statement.
When it comes to bad movies we love, it still applies. Either the context is there (Adam West’s Batman knows exactly what it is) or the audience goodwill is (The Room might be the worst film ever made but I’m enjoying myself so I forgive it) or the emotional resonance is (I won’t try to convince anyone else to watch Last Man on Earth but I also can’t look away. When it’s good it’s really good.)
So what about you, gentle reader? What gets a pass in your book? What can never be forgiven? Let me know in the comments and feel free to tell me how my interpretations of your beloved films are horribly, horribly wrong, while my favorites totally suck.
On April 1st UFO Publishing opens submissions for their sixth Unidentified Funny Objects anthology! From Terry Pratchett to Douglas Adams, comedic speculative fiction is some of the most beloved of the genre and unfortunately too often overlooked by publishers. So channel your inner comedian and get to submitting!
Not sure how to write comedy? Check out thesearticles for my advice on where to get started.
In their own words: “We’re looking for speculative stories with a strong humor element. Think Resnick and Sheckley, Fredric Brown and Douglas Adams. We welcome quality flash fiction and non-traditional narratives. Take chances, try something new, just make sure that your story is funny.”
Genres they accept: Speculative Fiction.
Word count limit: 500-5000 words.
Payment: $0.10 per word + contributor copy. Payment will be made upon acceptance. Our preferred method of payment is via PayPal, but you may request a check.
Simultaneous Submissions*: Unknown; my advice is don’t.
Multiple Submissions**: No. Limit of 1 submission per author — even if you receive a response before the submission window closes please do not send another story unless directly invited to do so.
Schedule: Submissions open April 1 – April 30, 2017
Additional tips: “Puns and stories that are little more than vehicles for delivering a punch line at the end aren’t likely to win us over. The best way to learn what we like in general is to read a previous volume. You can buy it here and also read the online stories for free.” They also include a list of tired tropes. Click on their submission guidelines page for details.
*This means whether they will allow you to submit this story to another publisher at the same time or not.
**This means whether you can send them more than one story at at time.
Reminders when submitting:
Read the publication: Their stories are freely accessible on the site. You have no excuse not to do your research and see what kind of style gets their attention. It will also give you an idea of what’s been done before so you don’t end up sending them something too similar to a recently published story.
Read the guidelines:I don’t post everything required for their submissions, just the basics. Furthermore, this is a static post. Publishers change their submission requirements at will so it’s always a good idea to read and re-read them, even if you’ve submitted to them before.
Follow the rules: Do I really need to say this? Don’t send pieces over the word count. Don’t send content they specifically warn against. Don’t send weirdly formatted manuscripts if they give you specific instructions. “But Liz, I–” Nope! No, no, no. If you do not follow the rules you risk being a pariah to that magazine – and worse, editors can exchange notes on who’s being a pain.
Now that society has begun to rebuild itself, you may have noticed our cultural institutions reemerging from the rubble. The monthly concerts in tribute to our Dear Leader were of course the first of these, and since attendance has been made mandatory, we think that now would be an excellent time to brush up on concert hall protocol under the new regime.
Before you Leave
Dress casually. While in years past cocktail attire was preferable on opening night, these days such blatant displays of affluence will mark you as one of the bourgeoisie and you may find yourself gunned down in a dark alley faster than you can say “Batman’s parents.”
If any of your children have survived past the usual rate of mortality, please leave them with a caregiver over the course of the concert, preferably one who can be trusted not to sell them into slavery. Or, at the very least, one who will be willing to share a portion of the profits with you.
At the Concert Hall
If you are late in arriving, you may be asked to wait in the lobby and later escorted into a vacant seat at an appropriate moment. You may take your assigned seat at intermission. If you complain about this policy you will be conscripted into lavatory duty after the performance. If you complain about this policy you will be detained indefinitely in a dissenters prison. Children left in the care of a babysitter may be sold into slavery if they are not claimed by a relative within 48 hours.
It’s advisable to unwrap lozenges before the performance. Patrons who make any ambient noise during the concert such as fidgeting, coughing, or the rustling of candy wrappers will be tranquilized by the nearest usher and billed for the cost. Those talking will be shot. (With a silencer, for obvious reasons.)
Clapping is encouraged for the entrance of the Concertmaster, any soloists, and the Conductor/Concert Maestro. You may also clap between movements and at the end of each piece. Please save all texting for intermission, but you may tweet your appreciation for the performance to Dear Leader at any time. This is acceptable because the cellphone light from tweeting is totally different than when you send a text. Those sending texts will be tranquilized (or shot if the tranquilizer supply is running low.)
After the Concert
Remember to tip your musicians. Symphony members used to be paid in part by federal funds from the National Endowment of the Arts, but that was eliminated in the years preceding the Great Purge. Now their participation in monthly concerts is mandatory, so they wouldn’t be eligible for monetary compensation anyway. Their reward is their devotion to Dear Leader, as well as the privilege of not spending their days in a dissenters prison. They are, however, accepting donations from the audience so be sure to toss some spare change in the hat they pass around between movements.
If you recognize a symphony member after the performance it is impolite to ask them at which subway platform they play in their off-time. That information can be readily found on their twitter account.
Whether you’re a newcomer to the symphony or a long time fan, everyone should enjoy these monthly tributes to promote unity and prosperity under the new regime. Now that you know the basic protocol of the symphony you will be able to attend the concerts with confidence!
At the Atlanta Writing Workshop two weeks ago, I attended their signature panel called “Writers Got Talent”—a Page 1 Critique Fest. Participants anonymously submitted the first page of their manuscript for critique by a panel of agents and publishers. They got through 18 entries of various genres and skill levels and I took copious notes on their feedback. While I can’t share the manuscripts themselves, I did sort through the comments and found some pretty common trends across the board.
So, without further ado, here are your Do’s and Don’ts for writing an Amazing First Page:
Do’s (and where to find examples)
1.) Set the scene. Who are your characters? Where are they? What’s going on? These are three things you need to establish in your first page in a coherent way. Good openers introduce the reader to your world and draw them in. It’s also a great time to establish the tone of the work or the overlying themes.
Examples: Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen, Gone with the Wind by Margaret Mitchell, Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury, or 1984 by George Orwell.
2.) Have a unique, memorable voice. A unique voice will pull the reader into to narrative and gives them an immediate investment in your characters. I also noticed that the judges were more forgiving of other flaws if the voice of the piece captured their attention.
Examples: The Martian by Andy Weir or Catcher in the Rye by J.D. Salinger for first person narration; The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy by Douglas Adams and anything by Terry Pratchett for third-person POV that still retains its own unique voice.
3.) Draw them in with an intriguing set up. You could start with some sort of action sequence that sets the scene or dive right into the premise of your story if it’s off the wall.
Examples: The Gunslinger by Stephen King, Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas by Hunter S. Thompson or either The Trial or The Metamorphosis by Franz Kafka. (Tell me you don’t want to read more about a man who wakes up as a bug…)
4.) Tactile, sensory imagery is a plus. If you’re going to start by describing the environment rather than establishing a quirky voice or introducing your main character, make sure the imagery is excellent and the scene is rich enough with sensory details to set the mood and immerse your reader.
Examples: The Scarlet Pimpernell by Baroness Orczy, Wizard’s First Rule by Terry Goodkind, Fall of the House of Usher by Edgar Allan Poe. Anything gothic that relies on atmosphere could fit here.
5.) Send them something they can sell. This is a little more nuanced, so bear with me. Publishers are going to have their own tastes, but of the submissions that were read, humor, “classic” genre fiction (as in it read like it was written in the fifties), and tone that clashed with the intended readership were all tough sells. Not impossible, but tough; agents and publishers just won’t accept work they can’t sell. My advice? Research your market and see if you can imagine your book on the same shelf as your contemporaries.
What not to do.
Don’ts
1.) Don’t go overboard with your action. Your opening page shouldn’t jump around to different characters, different settings, or different points in time. Why? It’s hard to build momentum and investment in characters if you switch gears too soon at the beginning. (This is also why a lot of prologues don’t work.) Too many scenes lead to bad transitions and instead of drawing the reader in, you end up leaving them behind.
2.) Don’t introduce too many characters at once. Like with too much action, too many characters will be confusing for readers who are meeting your cast for the first time. Even the Harry Potter series had catch-up chapters to reintroduce readers to the world.
3.) Watch your language. The judges would get stuck on clunky metaphors and word repetition, which threw off their reading rhythm. You’ll catch a lot of this if you read your opening page out loud, so be sure to proofread and find some betas who will be honest with you. Ask them if there was anything they stumbled over when they first read it.
4.) Don’t fall in love with your own description. This is the opposite problem of too much action in that it takes too long to build your momentum. In a first page you have roughly one paragraph to set the scene and then it’s time to move on. Keep up the pace and don’t indulge yourself with flowery prose.
5.) Don’t be cliche. Turn off’s for the judges included pieces with stock characters, situations, or voices that were too much like what they had seen before. To impress, you have to know what’s out there and prove you’re doing something different enough to catch their attention. So how do you avoid tropes? Check out small publishers in short story markets. They’re not shy about posting what they’re seeing too much of lately. (Don’t know any small publishers? Check out my Publisher’s Spotlights for some ideas of who’s out there.)
Well, that’s all the advice I have for now. Got any tips of your own? Disagree vehemently with any of mine? Leave a note in the comments and share your advice!
It’s been awhile since we highlighted a themed anthology publisher, so let’s take a look at the speculative fiction interests of Third Flatiron! Details below:
In their own words: “We are looking for submissions to our quarterly themed anthologies… Please send us short stories that revolve around age-old questions and have something illuminating to tell us as human beings. Fantastical situations and creatures, exciting dialog, irony, mild horror, and wry humor are all welcome.”Role models for the type of fiction we want include Kurt Vonnegut, Arthur C. Clarke, Dan Simmons, Connie Willis, Vernor Vinge, and Ken Kesey. We want to showcase some of the best new shorts available today.”
Genres they accept: Our focus is on science fiction and fantasy and anthropological fiction. We want tightly plotted tales in out-of-the-ordinary scenarios. Light horror is acceptable, provided it fits the theme.
Word count limit: 1,500 – 3,000 words. Inquire if longer.
Payment: 6¢/word (U.S./SFWA professional rate)
Simultaneous Submissions*: No
Multiple Submissions**: No
Schedule: Please see the main page for upcoming themes. Current themes as of this posting are:
“Cat’s Breakfast” Reading period: Feb 15 – April 15, 2017
“Strange Beasties” Reading period: May 15 – July 15, 2o17
Bonus Feature: “For each anthology, we will also accept a few very short humor pieces on the order of the “Shouts and Murmurs” feature in The New Yorker Magazine (600 words or so). These can be written from a first-person perspective or can be mini-essays that tell people what they ought to do, how to do something better, or explain why something is like it is, humorously. An SF/Fantasy bent is preferred.”
*This means whether they will allow you to submit this story to another publisher at the same time or not.
**This means whether you can send them more than one story at at time.
Reminders when submitting:
Read the publication: Their stories are freely accessible on the site. You have no excuse not to do your research and see what kind of style gets their attention. It will also give you an idea of what’s been done before so you don’t end up sending them something too similar to a recently published story.
Read the guidelines:I don’t post everything required for their submissions, just the basics. Furthermore, this is a static post. Publishers change their submission requirements at will so it’s always a good idea to read and re-read them, even if you’ve submitted to them before.
Follow the rules: Do I really need to say this? Don’t send pieces over the word count. Don’t send content they specifically warn against. Don’t send weirdly formatted manuscripts if they give you specific instructions. “But Liz, I–” Nope! No, no, no. If you do not follow the rules you risk being a pariah to that magazine – and worse, editors can exchange notes on who’s being a pain.
I’ve seen a number of articles discussing what not to do when it comes to writing, but when it comes to habits to emulate the advice seems to dry up. After all, every writer is different – what works for some may not work for all. So rather than habits, let’s talk about three virtues that all successful writers seem to have and how to translate those into success for yourself.
A Diligent Work Ethic
“I don’t like to write, but I love having written.”
It’s a common sentiment among writers to prefer accomplishment to the work that goes into actually writing something. But if you’re ever going to be successful you have to learn how to finish what you start. “Finishing” can mean any number of things from polishing a not-quite-there piece to actually sitting down to write in the first place.
It takes self-discipline to practice your craft, and not just the writing part. You need to read your contemporaries as well as the classics. You should have an idea of the history of your genre and be aware of where it’s headed with new publications. You have to market yourself and engage in writing communities. You have to research possible publishers and polish your work until it’s ready to submit. Successful writers put in the work.
Humility
Successful writers acknowledge their flaws and want to improve their craft. You can’t do that without a dose of humility. It can be tempting to write off publishers because they don’t understand your genius, but is it really helpful to tune out legitimate criticism? When publishers tell you “No,” respect their decisions and use it as an opportunity to reflect and improve. Listen to your editor, your beta readers, and anyone who is willing to read your work and offer helpful suggestions. You don’t have to take every piece of advice you get, but humility means accepting that your work may not be perfect as it is.
In the same vein, humility can mean respect for fellow authors. Sure, we’ve all read something we didn’t like and secretly wondered “How on earth did this get published? My stuff’s better than that!” But with some humility you can take a long, hard look at what it is that made them successful and learn from it. That will translate into success for yourself, rather than jealousy. And as you get more experience, respect the up-and-coming authors who are trying to break into the market. Successful writers pass on what they’ve learned to those who share their aspirations, rather than viewing everyone as competition.
A Resilient Spirit
This is sort of the opposite of humility. It takes a lot of self-confidence to stare down a contest and say “Yeah, my story could win that.” Submitting is an act of bravery, and perseverance in the face of rejection is the most important of all virtues. Success does not come easy. As I said above, you have to put in the work. You finish what you start. You revise. You take advice where you can get it. Sometimes you do it all over again and the answer is still “No.”
Successful writers don’t give up, even after all that. The great thing about writing is that you can do it for your entire life. You never stop learning. You never stop improving, so there’s no reason to get impatient with a lack of success. The submission you send out today is bound to be better than the one yesterday because you’re always improving and evolving. And if you put in the work and are humble enough to actively seek to improve yourself it’s really only a matter of time before that effort is rewarded. But you can’t give up before that happens – not if you want to be successful.
What say you, readers? Is there anything I’ve missed? Anything you disagree with? Leave your suggestions below in the comments so we can all learn from each other!
Strange Horizons is back! After a brief hiatus, they are once again open for submissions weekly starting on Monday, and close when they reach their cap. Details below:
In their own words: “We want good speculative fiction. If your story doesn’t have a speculative element, or strong speculative-fiction sensibilities, it’s probably not for us. Some particular things we love, or are interested in:
Fiction from or about diverse perspectives and traditionally under-represented groups, settings, and cultures, written from a non-exoticizing and well-researched position.
Unusual yet readable styles and inventive structures and narratives.
Stories that address political issues in complex and nuanced ways, resisting oversimplification.
Hypertext fiction. If you have a work of hyperfiction you think might be a good fit for Strange Horizons, please query us to discuss how to submit it.
Genres they accept: Speculative Fiction. (That’s the usual sci-fi, fantasy and various flavors of slipstream, etc.)
Word count limit: “We prefer stories under 5,000 words, but we consider stories up to 10,000 words. Note, however, that the longer the story is, the less likely we are to be interested…we have no minimum wordcount requirement; we consider short-short stories.”
Payment: We pay 8¢/word (USD), with a minimum payment of $60. SFWA officially considers us a professional market.
Simultaneous Submissions*: No
Multiple Submissions**: No
Schedule: Opens every Monday; “if and when the queue begins to significantly outstrip the reading, we’ll close for the week to give ourselves room to catch up.”
Bonus Feature: If you’ve never read Strange Horizon’s guide to tired tropes, give it a glance. In addition to being hilarious it’ll hopefully make you rethink some of your trunk stories and challenge you to go beyond common slush problems.
The downside is that they don’t often explain why these tropes don’t work so it can be tempting to rationalize why your piece breaks the mold. My advice? Don’t. Just don’t. Find a different story to submit and in the meantime shop the other one out to trusted beta readers who can guide you away from the tropes.
*This means whether they will allow you to submit this story to another publisher at the same time or not.
**This means whether you can send them more than one story at at time.
Reminders when submitting:
Read the publication: Their stories are freely accessible on the site. You have no excuse not to do your research and see what kind of style gets their attention. It will also give you an idea of what’s been done before so you don’t end up sending them something too similar to a recently published story.
Read the guidelines:I don’t post everything required for their submissions, just the basics. Furthermore, this is a static post. Publishers change their submission requirements at will so it’s always a good idea to read and re-read them, even if you’ve submitted to them before.
Follow the rules: Do I really need to say this? Don’t send pieces over the word count. Don’t send content they specifically warn against. Don’t send weirdly formatted manuscripts if they give you specific instructions. “But Liz, I–” Nope! No, no, no. If you do not follow the rules you risk being a pariah to that magazine – and worse, editors can exchange notes on who’s being a pain.
There is something to be said for tradition. What can compare to a freshly laundered tablecloth, set with fine china and silverware? Clearly, our dear Vermillion overlords agree, as they have enthusiastically adopted our custom of the formal dinner party.
That’s why, in this new age of co-species habitation, I’ve updated my classic etiquette guide to include tips for navigating the social circles of both Vermillion and Earthling alike.
Arrival
Guest: Do not arrive early. You will want to allow time for the hostess to properly prepare for your arrival. Catching her off guard is both rude and potentially fatal if you interrupt the delicate summoning ritual for the main course. If you find yourself in the neighborhood a touch early, try taking a walk around the block to stargaze and observe the quiet majesty of the Vermillion race’s power, as they burn the home worlds of their vanquished enemies in the Horsehead Nebula.
Host: Be sure you are completely ready by the time printed on your invitation cards. While this sounds simple, in practice you must be sure to follow all 73 standard procedures for hosting the Vermillion race, listed on page 457b of the terms of surrender. For the Vermillions, be sure to stock the bar with plenty of spirits and allow for the occasional late arrival, as Earthling time functions only in the fourth dimension. It is rude to vaporize anyone on their first offense, and if they are more than an hour late, feel free to start without them.
Guest: A hard and fast rule from here to EGSY8p7 is to never bring a guest, unless you have cleared it with the host in advance. This may be a difficult rule for Vermillions to adhere to, as they reproduce asexually and seemingly at random. If such an event arises, the gracious host should welcome the unexpected guest and always be prepared with an extra place setting. Vermillions, if you feel the need arising it is prudent to excuse yourself to the restroom, where the larval mucus can be more easily cleaned off the tile flooring.
Dinner
Guest: The typical Earth custom is to start from the outside silverware and to work your way in to the plate throughout the meal. A good Earthling host will also provide chopsticks as an alternative, which are easier to handle with Vermillion appendages. If you would like to use the Earthling utensils, observe the host and follow his lead. Always wait for the host to remove his napkin first and set it on his lap. This signals that the meal has begun.
Host: Vermillions have a particular fondness for Chardonnay, which should be available with every course regardless of the dish served. Feel free to have other bottles available for red meats and other courses so you may introduce the Vermillions to the world of wine pairing. This is a great icebreaker if the conversation stalls or if an awkward topic is broached.
Guest: It is wise not to mention intergalactic politics, unless it is the recent conquest of the abominable Cerulean race, may they perish in slow agonizing torture. Do not under any circumstances attempt to cut off this conversation if a Vermillion guest chooses to pursue it.
After-Dinner
Guest: Earthlings should always offer to help clean up, but it is impolite to accept this offer. Remember, they are your guests, not your Zemeckian footmen. Vermillions should not be expected to help clean up or even offer their services. Do not forget your place as honored citizens of the Vermillion Empire. Thank your hosts twice: once when you leave and again the day afterward by sending a written note, even after the most informal of events.
Host: At the end of the evening, if guests are overstaying their welcome, it is acceptable to gently hint that it is time to leave by referring to the evening in the past tense: “Oh, what a lovely evening this was!” or by being direct but politely taking the blame: “I am so sorry but I am exhausted. I have hardly had time to recover the jet-lag from our trip across the system.” If this does not work, Vermillion hosts may begin vaporizing guests beginning with those who were more than 15 minutes late upon arriving.
I’ve never been one for New Year’s Resolutions. I feel like January is this tumultuous time when everyone has unreasonable expectations about how much change they’re capable of superimposing onto their lives. In February it’s best to sit back, take note of what you were able to accomplish and revise those goals so you might actually have a prayer of achieving some real change.
So, with that said… Whew.
Bit of a rough start, don’t you think?
Well. Never mind all that. Best to write it off as a free trial month and move on.
I’ve got some big things in store for this year. Posts will be a little less frequent but hopefully a little more regular. Last year’s schedule was a bit too tough to keep up and it led to an extended hiatus that I’d rather not repeat. So, with that “revised expectations” theme in mind, let’s just take it slow with one post a week and see how we feel after that, how’s that sound?
Tune in next Wednesday for the premiere of a new series of short flash entitled: Miss Margaret Moneypenny’s Etiquette Guide to the Apocalypse.
