Archive for 'in which i am weird about stuff'



What Stace had to say on Tuesday, August 5th, 2014
Judged by Netflix

Goodness, it’s been a while again, hasn’t it? I’m sorry! I’ve been working very hard, and now the girls are off school for the summer so we first had a bunch of school activities and now me trying to keep them amused. And by “me trying to keep them amused,” I mean me taking two or three times as long to do any household task because they’re “helping” me, and me teaching them how to play Solitaire in the desperate (and failed, sadly) hope that it would give them something to do other than hanging out and “helping” me with the aforementioned activities.

At the end of next week they’re going to visit their grandmother (my MIL) for about five days. I’m kind of freaking out about that–I’ve never been away from them for so long, and while I’m glad they’re going to go and hope they have fun, and I’m looking forward to the uninterrupted work time…ack, they won’t be home with me!

Aaanyway. One of the things I do when I’m alone in the kitchen is watch Netflix on my phone. Watching it on my phone means I’m limited to UK Netflix, which is frankly rather shitty, so I watch things I may not otherwise watch just because at least it’s available.

But here’s the problem with UK Netflix–it seems to be a slight issue with US Netflix, too, but to a lesser extent, because on US Netflix you can click on a category and see everything available, whereas here you only see what in that category UK Netflix thinks you might be interested in based on what you’ve watched before. Which means UK Netflix is constantly making these weird suggestions to me based on the fact that, for example, I watched ten minutes of the first episode of Sons of Anarchy before I switched to something else. (Sons of Anarchy actually seemed like a pretty good show, but one I’d have to pay real attention to, which isn’t easy when I’m watching in the kitchen because, you know, I’m cooking or doing dishes or sweeping or whatever.) I am still getting recommendations from them based on Sons of Anarchy, and that was four months ago that I watched those few minutes.

And their recommendations are, well, they don’t make much sense, because of the categories they put things in. I watched Memoirs of a Geisha one afternoon in May. I am still getting recommendations based on it, and those recommendations are all romantic comedies/chick flicks. I watched Memoirs because I read and liked the book and have seen the movie before, and because I was in the mood for something sort of historical and about Japan. So recommending Confessions of a Shopaholic to me based on the fact that I wanted to watch something historical and Japanese makes about as much sense as recommending Fatal Attraction to me because I watched a movie about bunnies (it would not surprise me to learn this actually happened).

Now, I sound like I’m whining, and that’s not my intent–I love Netflix, I really do, and hubs and I have been absolutely spellbound by House of Cards over the last few weeks. My intent is simply to use the above to illustrate why I am also afraid of Netflix.

See, I have a lot of interests, some of which are rather odd. Some of which aren’t odd at all but are rather odd for me. For example, in the last few years I’ve developed this weird but semi-passionate interest in mountain climbing. I have never climbed a mountain and I have no plans to–my idea of exercise is baking bread (you would be amazed how much upper-body strength that can require, if you’ve never done it yourself) or having to walk the girls to school instead of driving. I am not an outdoorsy girl at all; I don’t even like picnics or eating outside (I loathe insects). So while there’s nothing particularly odd about being interested in mountain climbing, it is rather odd for me to be interested in it.

But I am. So I’ve watched a lot of mountain-climbing documentaries and read quite a few books/listened to a few audiobooks. I’ve spent more time than I should online reading articles and stories (especially haunting Outside magazine’s excellent website. I even caved and bought a copy of Jon Krakauer’s INTO THIN AIR, even though I have some issues with Krakauer (I find it really annoying and borderline irresponsible the way he keeps insisting Christopher McCandless died of accidental poisoning instead of admitting the truth, which is that the kid starved to death; I found this same “I admire this person therefore they cannot have possibly made a mistake” attitude evident in INTO THIN AIR but still enjoyed the book). Documentaries on Everest? Of course. Ghosts of K2? Bring it, baby. The amazing Eiger: Wall of Death? Hells yeah. And pretty much any other doc I can find.

But here’s the thing. I find mountain climbing and, really, stories about mountains fascinating. But that doesn’t mean all of my interests necessarily follow, which is why I am afraid of Netflix judging me.

See, there’s some documentary on Netflix that looks like it could be rather fun, in a weird and ridiculous kind of way. I can’t remember the name offhand, but it’s basically a documentary that claims the Bush family was responsible for the death of John Kennedy Jr., presumably because of politics/GWB running for President in 2000–I’m not entirely sure. And I really do not mean to get into politics here (you all know this is not a political place) but I find the idea of this so, well, silly, that I would actually like to watch this documentary, because it seems like such a far-out idea that I’d enjoy seeing what evidence they’ve managed to come up with for this theory.

But when we first got Netflix, I made the mistake of watching David Brashears’ Everest documentary (the one filmed in IMAX; it loses quite a bit on a regular TV, I think, but it was still pretty good). Netflix decided that my interest in Everest must also translate to an interest in all things outdoorsy and, well, neo-hippie-like, which means that I am *still* trying to clear my suggestions of various documentaries about the evils of corporations and Enron and militant environmentalism and whatever else. It’s not that I don’t think any of those issues are important; it’s just that I don’t care about them enough to want them recommended to me instead of things I might actually want to watch. And it seems like no matter what other things I watch, no matter how frivolous they are, no matter how many times I click “Not Interested” or try to “refine” my interests, Netflix insists on suggesting documentaries about soccer and environmental terrorism to me.

So you can imagine my fear of actually watching that JFK Jr. documentary on Netflix. What would Netflix think of me then? What in the world would they start recommending to me based on that? There is no box to tick that says, “I’m watching this ironically,” or “I just think this might be amusing but it’s not a topic I care much about.” That box does not exist. Netflix insists on seeing me as, I dunno, some sort of chick-flick loving environmental activist from a motorcycle gang who likes to snowboard. I cannot imagine what they would add to that if I watched some JFK Jr. conspiracy movie. It’s at the point now where I quite literally skip watching things that might interest me because I’m worried about what dark paths of the soul it might lead Netflix down as far as recommendations.

I know this is paranoid…but I bet I’m not the only one, either. (I hope not, anyway.) Anyone else find their Netflix recommendations rather silly or impossible to change?

I will have some news-updates next week.

What Stace had to say on Monday, July 8th, 2013
Things and such

No, I still don’t have a release date for WRONG WAYS DOWN, but I am hoping to have one very soon, so stay tuned. (Also, I’ve gotten lots of questions about the release date for Downside 6. I’m working on it, guys, I swear. I can’t confirm any dates but again, hopefully I’ll be able to soon, and I swear I will announce all this stuff as soon as I possibly can.)

But I do have a few things to share today!

First, I’m very excited to say I’ve sold a new Downside short to Heroes & Heartbreakers. I can’t give a lot of detail on this one, except to say we’re back in Chessie’s head, and H&H will be doing a cover/blurb reveal and all that good stuff in the next month or so. But–and this’ll make more sense, I think, when the details are announced–this one was a TON of fun to write, because I got to play with something I don’t usually get to use or even mention in the books at all. And when you can reference Dickens and Faulkner (I can’t wait to see if anybody catches the Faulkner bit) in a short, it’s always extra nifty. I had a few nerdy giggles writing this one, basically, and I can’t wait for you guys to see it. I believe it’ll be released in the fall sometime.

And as I mentioned above, WRONG WAYS DOWN things are coming along and such (new except–well, mini-excerpt–below).

Which brings me to…well, something, anyway.

I’m planning on doing another contest for WRONG WAYS DOWN, and I’m thinking because the “Name a Character” contest for SACRIFICIAL MAGIC was such a blast to do, and everyone seemed to enjoy it so much, I’ll do another of those. Especially since this will be Name a Character in the next Terrible novella…well, I can probably say with confidence that some of you will *really* want to be in this one.

But something occurred to me about the last contest as I was writing the Acknowledgments for WWD and passing them along. And you know, this is probably really dorky of me, and it probably doesn’t matter, but my stupid little sense of Do Right is pretty much making me say something, because…well, because I try to be honest and up-front with you guys, and honest and up-front in general. It’s important to me. And I just want to clarify something. It’s not a big deal–I’m pretty sure I’m making it a much bigger deal than it is–but still. You know me.

You may remember that Chelsea Mueller from Vampire Book Club won the SACRIFICIAL character contest (which was held for the release of CITY OF GHOSTS back in 2010). The thing is, in the intervening time since SACRIFICIAL’s release, Chelsea and I have become pretty close friends; we email pretty regularly and she beta-read WWD (and hence is in the Acknowledgments). Again, not a big deal, but because she won my contest and because I’m planning to do another one, I do kind of feel the need to just clarify that we really didn’t know each other when the contest happened, and really didn’t know each other as I wrote SM. In other words, I don’t just pick my friends to win my contests, honest. Her name happened to come out of the hat, so to speak (actually, the number of one of her entries was randomly picked by my child, if memory serves), and a year or so later we happened to get to chatting about something and there you go.

Like I said, I know this is rather dorky, and probably nobody cares but me and Chelsea (who, BTW, no longer personally reviews my work on her blog, also in the interests of objectivity and such), but it is important to me that I be open with you all and just make sure everybody knows that there was no contest hanky-panky happening. I worry about things like that.

So! On to the new mini-cerpt!

“Terrible, is you listening to me?” Amy set her hand on his chest. “You ain’t sayin much, you ain’t.”

“Aye, sorry.” Shit, what had she been saying? “Just got a lot on, aye? Some shit happening, is all.”

Her bright pink mouth twisted down. “Oughta just cancel with me, aye, iffen you ain’t gonna pay attention. Wanting chatter with you.”

“Sorry,” he said again. “You was sayin on you work, aye? What happen?”

“Two dudes coming on, telling me be a ghost around. Say a ghost kill Bump’s man on the other night. Be true? It a ghost?”

Her brown eyes were wide; she looked scared, and he hated that his first thought was to be annoyed instead of wanting to make her feel better like he should. With effort he kept his voice casual. “Naw, ain’t true. Don’t know where them dumb fuckin rumors starting, but ain’t true. Ain’t a ghost.”

Amy worked at a secondhand store up Sixtieth, old furniture and appliances and whatany. Fuck. Now she got people just coming in offen the streets, chattering on ghosts?

“Then why they—”

He shrugged. “Somebody tryin stir shit up, is all.”

Amy glanced around. “Slobag?”

“Maybe.” Probably. But until he were certain he ain’t wanted to say, and he were trying real fucking hard not to get mad thinking of it. Why the fuck all this shit starting up now? “Don’t need to be worryin on it, aye? No ghost.”

She nodded, but he could see the question starting behind her eyes, could see her wondering did he wish it were a ghost so’s he could call Chess, or was he saying weren’t a ghost causen he were already working with Chess.

He cut that off with, “Want me getting you a beer?”

“Aye.” She leaned back on the seat and folded her pale arms over her chest in a way that let him know she caught on that he were trying to change the subject. She wore a skimpy little pink dress, with thin straps and a short skirt. How she ain’t froze in that outside he didn’t know, but he couldn’t deny he ain’t minded at all when she looked mostly undressed.

Which kinda made him feel worse, causen they’d hang out there an hour or so, and then they’d go back to his and get that dress off her, and despite the fact that they never made any promises or aught like that—and he weren’t the only dude she saw, neither—he couldn’t help thinking he weren’t really treating her right. No. He didn’t think it. He knew it. And he knew why, which was worse.

So, there you go.