Humans Shouldn't Drive

Humans shouldn't drive.  We're just no damned good at it.

See this rumpled backside of minivan? I watched this accident happen. The driver correctly and legally stopped for two pedestrians -- myself and a companion -- only to find that the large pickup truck behind her was going too fast and following too close.  We winced as the inevitable happened. Loudly.

After everything came to a stop, we directed traffic around the scene and went to see if everyone was all right.  We found the minivan's driver, a woman, holding the two girls who had been riding with her.

"I'm just so glad they're all right," she said.  "I'm just so glad."

The driver of the pickup truck?  A young woman, dressed nicely,  looking dazed. Based on her speed, I guessed she was trying to get somewhere. I wanted to say, "What, you were running late?"

Tons of steel. Distracted human minds.

People shouldn't drive. Just no damned good at it.

Dev Women: Request for Opinions, Anecdotes, Etcetera

I've started a project about women in technology, inspired by the many times I've been asked by those in a managerial or hiring capacity, "how can we get more women?"

More women, meaning engineers and developers. Women, if you're interested, here's the longer description of the Dev.Women.Voices project.

Help me answer companies who want to know how to find, hire, and retain women developers. Submit an article, write me email, or chat with me on IM about your thoughts. You can also help by forwarding or retweeting this call for submissions.

Opine! Rant! Tell me what you think!

Hacker Humor: Programming Languages as Religion

Yes Devpals, this one has been making the rounds for years, but I hadn't seen it for a while and had forgotten. I think hacker humor tells us a bit about where our geek lies. For me it was the one about LISP that really got to me:

Lisp would be Zen Buddhism - There is no syntax, there is no centralization of dogma, there are no deities to worship. The entire universe is there at your reach - if only you are enlightened enough to grasp it. Some say that it's not a language at all; others say that it's the only language that makes sense.

The Rejection Saga Complete

The Rejection Saga is finally finished. I have made a collection of the correspondence between myself and Dr. Emmons of the Journal of Universal Rejection for your chronologically ordered reading pleasure.

This is my first published meta fiction of which I am inordinately proud. Enjoy.

Not a Real Pocket

The other day I bought some capri pants (just below the knee for those of you who don't know that word). They have pockets on the sides, which is cool for those times when you want to carry a little something like a key or some dollars without ruining the lines and bop out onto the fashionable city sidewalks.

Except, of course, that -- well. You know where this is going.

It's a pretend pocket. On the other side, it's a real one. "Real" as in "useful". "Pretend" as in "sewn shut with sufficient artistry that one might be (understandably) deceived about its utility until one actually tried to unbutton it."

Now why go through the trouble to make something that looks so very much like a useful container in which one might carry things of value? Why pretend?

I know, I know, it's women's fashion, and making sense is not its primary purpose.

But still. ARrrrrggggghhhhhhgggghhgghhh. Gggghhh.

There, I feel better. Mostly. I still don't have a pocket where I need one.

Rejection Saga: Satisfaction at Last

As you may recall, in his last letter Dr. Emmons, Editor-in-Chief of the Journal of Universal Rejection, gave me my first assignment which was to reject a particularly tenacious submission.

I took on that assignment with pleasure. Here is my letter to the author:

Dear Ms. Lyris,

Rarely do we see such talent. Your provocative characters and intense drama kept us deeply engaged until the brilliant ending, after which we felt the need to plant forests and work at soup kitchens.

To be blunt, your stories have brought us the personal transformation and transcendence we might otherwise have spent a lifetime seeking.

On behalf of the Journal we must reject your submission on the grounds that our readership is simply not mature enough for this sort of insight. We're sure you understand.

Should you decide to submit again you might consider something more light-hearted. We understand that Dr. Isaac Asimov wrote limericks in between Nebula and Hugo acceptance speeches. Perhaps you can do likewise.

Sincerely,

Sonia Lyris, Editor

Ahhh, satisfaction! I have my rejection, finally, from this most prestigious publication. I ask you: is there any reason for me to seek further rejections from lesser publications?

For those who want to hear about my non-rejections, please sign up at my publications mailing list.

The Rejection Saga: Dr. Emmons Gives Me My First Assignment

Dear Editor Lyris:

Welcome to the Showboat, a.k.a. the Editorial Board. I am forwarding you your first assignment (see message below). Please carefully review and reject this submission directly to the submitter. You may cc me on the rejection if you think it is blogworthy.
Best regards,
Caleb

--
Caleb Emmons, PhD
Editor-in-Chief
Journal of Universal Rejection

Dear Dr. Emmons,

After reflecting on both your new and standing requirements and struggling with various revisions, I present to you my -- I cannot help but think of it as "our" -- newest version. I struggled with how to provide the needed verisimilitude without including any description whatsoever, which provided me with a stumbling block until I remembered that the heart and soul of a story resides not in the words but in the reader.

This story, perhaps my greatest effort thus far, is, in typical fashion, below. This letter. Below this letter.

YOS, etc,

Sonia Lyris

P.S. I'm eager to hear back about my start date.


A Woman and a Fish

Fish: Mollie. Fish. Done? Go plop. Repeat Fish. Plop. Big kiss. Whap! Ahhh...! The End.

Yes. Yes, of course. Hmm.

Leaving on Judgement Day? Don't forget your pets!

I gather when you ascend in the Rapture, you don't get to take your pets with you. From this Gather news article:

"Reverend Camping and Christian Radio are trying to convince Christians to believe in the May 21 Judgment Day. This is the day of the Rapture and they will be leaving the world to go to heaven. Who will take care of their pets that they have left behind? The only option is to make arrangements with the atheists."

Apparently all it takes to be an atheist is to take the Lord's name in vain, so despite what I actually might believe, I'll be here May 22nd.

I'm an animal lover. So listen, if you're planning to leave for Heaven on May 21st, please make arrangements for your animals. I'm good with cats, dogs and birds. I really don't want to see your fur-babies suffer while you're in Heaven. So contact me ASAP.

I mean it.

I see some of you snickering. Cut it out. They could be right and you could be (oh-so) wrong. A little respect, eh?

There's bad news, though: given how stringent the requirements seem to be, we might not see all that much reduction in population on May 22. Might still be pretty hard to find parking in the End Times.

Hey, believers: at least put out some extra kibble on May 21st, okay? In case you're right?

The Rejection Saga: Another Revision for the Esteemed Doctor

As a followup to my last letter to Dr. Emmons of the Journal of Universal Rejection, I send a letter in which I (naturally) discuss the great challenges I faced in this delicate and tricky rewrite, express my eagerness to start my editorial duties, and present my story offering.

Dear Dr. Emmons,

After reflecting on both your new and standing requirements and struggling with various revisions, I present to you my -- I cannot help but think of it as "our" -- newest version. I struggled with how to provide the needed verisimilitude without including any description whatsoever, which provided me with a stumbling block until I remembered that the heart and soul of a story resides not in the words but in the reader.

This story, perhaps my greatest effort thus far, is, in typical fashion, below. This letter. Below this letter.

YOS, etc,

Sonia Lyris

P.S. I'm eager to hear back about my start date.


A Woman and a Fish

Fish: Mollie. Fish. Done? Go plop. Repeat Fish. Plop. Big kiss. Whap! Ahhh...! The End.

Note that Dr. Emmons has posted much of our correspondence on his own blog in clear(er) chronological order. Stay tuned, in either location, for the next exciting episode of the The Rejection Saga.

The Rejection Saga: Epiphany, Commas, and Anticipation

Dear Dr. Emmons,

> p.s. We correspond so frequently, perhaps you could address me more informally.  (E.g., use a comma.)

Ahha! It's all been about the commas, hasn't it. All that has kept you from issuing, me, a, proper rejection, lo, these many, many months, has been my miserly use of commas. This moment is nothing short of epiphanic!  At last I understand!

> Perhaps you would like to join our Editorial Board?

My goodness, yes! Nothing could please me more than the chance to help issue rejections for your esteemed journal. (I suppose I'll have to say "our" esteemed journal, now.)  Yes, yes, and more yes!  I am ready and eager to serve.

So eager in fact that I beg you to tell me the moment I am installed on the board and am authorized to issue rejections. My fingers are twitching in anticipation.

YOS, TIA, etc.

The Rejection Saga: Dr Emmons Offers Me Another Go And Something Else

Dear Sonia,

According to my dictionary, "intense" is an adjective.  I thought I asked for none of those.  Also your story is too short, and not enough happens.  I want more details.  Put me into Mollie's life.  I want to hear the wet slap of fish as Mollie plops it on her display counter.  I want to feel the sparge of the fish's last exhalation, as its eyes go glassy.  I want to smell--no, to taste!--the delicate parfum of sea salt and kelp gracing Mollie's sun roughened neck.  But pretend I am a blind man; I don't want to see anything.

Best regards,
Caleb

p.s. We correspond so frequently, perhaps you could address me more informally.  (E.g., use a comma.)

p.p.s.  We have received many short stories of late.  (I also consider blank documents and research articles short stories.)  Perhaps you would like to join our Editorial Board?

Easter Magic: A Bird in the Hand

Ah, spring!  When I was a child, Easter morning meant a basket of fake grass, eggs, and delicious candy, along with adorable little pipe-cleaner men playing on the sides of the basket, courtesy of an impressively creative mother. It was magic.

I had some magic yesterday, too, holding this dove chick in my hands, feeling its seven-day-old just-fed I'm-a-dove contentment. Nothing says spring like new, happy life.

The Rejection Saga: My Serve

Dear Dr. Emmons:

It is likewise always a pleasure to nearly hit my target.  I dare say I'm getting quite good at it.

Please find (below; really, it's not that hard to find) my rewrite as per your thoughtful and insightful rewrite suggestions.  As is so often the case, I cannot tell you how grateful I am for your feedback.

YOS, etc.

The Story: Once upon a time there was a fishmonger named Mollie. Some stuff with fish happened. It was intense. It's over now. The end.

The Rejection Saga: Another Volley

Dear Sonia,

Thank you for submitting another story.  It is always a delight to hear from you, and see the multisplendent amalgams of words you arrange.  This submission was no different.  But we did find a problem with it.  It is too descriptive.  Our readership doesn't have time for all the details, and other aids to imagination that you have included.  Please do a rewrite that lacks any adjectives and adverbs, and avoids long words.  And we'd like to see a fishmonger named Mollie in the story.

Best regards,
Caleb

The Art of Flirting

I'm facilitating two workshops at NorWesCon, Flirting 101 (Fri 4/22, 7pm) and Advanced Flirting (Sat 4/23 10pm).  If you're going to the con, do join us.

For the first time ever, I'll be giving out a Certificate of Flirting Competence to those who attend both workshops and perform competently at the assigned tasks. (Yes, there will assigned tasks: workshop exercises and homework between the sessions. You'll earn your cert.)

If you've never been to one of my flirting workshops, give it a try. My conceptual frame is that flirting is for more than romance, it's an approach to connecting with people around any area of shared interest.  It's a way to approach social interaction that is playful, respectful, and lowers the risks to both parties.

We'll discuss flirting theory, practice approaches, examine rebuffs, and explore the frightening world of rejection and acceptance.

I really enjoy these workshops. They can be full of lively banter, playful and (yes) flirtatious exchanges, outrageous humor, and risk-taking made fun.

Join us if you can.