Friendly Friday: Lilith Saintcrow and the Terror of Squirrels

SquirrelTerror!

One of the best ways to learn what it’s like to be a full-time novelist, is to learn and listen to those who are doing the work. Lilith Saintcrow is one such writer. This is an author who is not only compelled to write, but who can be found with a pen (or keyboard) at the ready. I admire her ability to navigate multiple genres and audiences, research what’s needed without falling down the rabbit hole, and retain her focus despite the many, many changes happening around her. Through the years, she’s written the kind of books that have provided many a fun romp while fleshing out the depth and breadth of characters like Dante Valentine and Jill Kismet. I really enjoyed The Bannon & Clare Affair series–and not just because I appear as an assassin in it. Alternate history is my jam, because I love the “what if” questions that address the complexities of our world when one important aspect is changed. The presence of magic, a new island, or a battle won instead of lost generates so many questions!

In addition to stories and her writing advice, which she’s compiled in The Quill and The Crow, Lili also has a sense of humor and, as it turns out, a hilarious problem with squirrels. Her history with these woodland creatures is the stuff of legend, and she’s not only blogged about SquirrelTerror! for her readers’ benefit–but there’s also a SquirrelTerror! book as well. In fact, her stories are so epic they inspired me as well. Many moons ago, when Loki tapped my shoulder (Uh… This happens often.) to say: “Hey Monica, wouldn’t it be great if…?” Rewrite a gothic icon to feature a real-life heroine? Never. Right? Ahem. Yeah, so for Fish Fool’s one year, I did. I took Poe’s “The Raven” as my inspiration; I wound up mapping the beats and rewrote it to star Lili and a rather scary squirrel.

I hope you enjoy this bit of fun, and I encourage you to check out Lili’s books and hop on her reader’s bandwagon. You can find them wherever books are sold. For more about this author, you can visit www.lilithsaincrow.com, find her on Twitter @lilithsaintcrow, or follow her on Facebook on the Official Saintcrow Page.

Without further adieu, here’s my poem in all its unabashed glory.

The Squirrel

Once upon an evening dreary, while I pondered weak and weary,
How to script an ensuing volume for my readers galore,
While I nodded, nearly dozing, suddenly there came a scraping,
As of some one gently chafing, up against my screen porch door.
`’Tis my fuzzy feline,’ I muttered, ‘chafing at my screen porch door –
Only this, and nothing more.’

Ah, distinctly I remember it was an overcast day in November,
And each separate dying leaf dragged its dry bones across the floor.
Eagerly I wished the morrow; – vainly I had sought to borrow
Whence my books surcease of sorrow – sorrow for a lost amore –
For I’m but a rare and radiant maiden whom the angels named Saintcrow –
A goddess in my house for evermore.

Alas! My children’s laughter, diving headfirst in my box of chocolates
Distracted me – filled me with fantastic delights never felt before;
Oh no! Dear, kitty! To still the beating of my happy heart, I stood repeating
I forgot about my kitty entreating entrance at my back porch door –
My hungry kitty is still entreating entrance at my back porch door; –
This it is, and nothing more,’

Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
`Dearest kitty,’ said I, `truly your forgiveness I must implore;
But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,
And so faintly you came tapping, tapping my back door,
That I scarce was sure I heard you’ – here I opened wide the door; –
Darkness there, and nothing more.

Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before;
But the silence was unbroken, and the darkness gave no token,
And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, `Saintcrow!’
This name I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, `Saintcrow?’
Merely this and nothing more.

Back into the living room turning, questions within me burning,
Soon again I heard a scratching somewhat louder than before.
`Surely,’ said I, `surely that is my kitty at my screen door;
Let me see then, why he’s sore with me, and this mystery I’ll explore –
Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore; –
‘Tis my kitty and nothing more!’

Open I slid my door like butter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,
In there stepped a stately squirrel of the saintly days of yore.
Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;
But, with mien of lord or lady, perched outside my screen porch door –
Perched upon a gazing ball just beyond my screen porch door –
Perched, and sat, and nothing more.

Then this gray creature beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,
`Though thy crest be white and fuzzy, thou,’ I said, `art sure no yellow bird.
Ghastly foul and ancient vermin wandering nightly because you could –
Tell me what thy lordly name is within this Green Man’s wood!’
Quoth the squirrel, `Saintcrow.’

Much I marvelled this ungainly pest to hear discourse so plainly,
Though its answer had much meaning – and its similarity to my own it bore;
Still, we cannot help agreeing that no living human being
Ever yet was blessed with a talking squirrel just outside his screen door –
Bird or beast above a mirrored ball just outside their screen door,
Bearing such a name–or any other–as stately as `Saintcrow.’

But the squirrel, sitting lonely on the gleaming orb, spoke only,
That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.
Nothing further then he uttered – not his furry tail he fluttered –
Till I scarcely more than muttered `Other friends have climbed before –
On the morrow he will leave me, as my hopes have climbed before.’
Then the pest said once more, `Saintcrow, Saintcrow!’

Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,
`Doubtless,’ said I, `what name it utters is its only stock and store,
Caught no doubt by some rabid reader whose unmerciful teasers
Followed fast and followed faster till his decrees one burden bore –
Till the chants of his hope for my next book his burden bore
Of “Saintcrow” and nothing more.

But the squirrel was still beguiling my remaining kitties into smiling,
Straight I ushered a tuxedo-furred feline in front of squirrel and ball and door;
Then, upon my pillow sinking, I betook myself to linking
Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this plague-carrying pest of yore –
What this grey, grim, disgusting, gaunt, and plague-carrying pest of yore
Meant in groaning o’er and o’er: `Saintcrow.’

This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing
To the creature whose beady eyes now burned into my dear kitty’s fur;
This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining
On my cushion’s silken lining that the lamp-light gloated o’er,
But whose lining with the lamp-light gloating o’er,
His memory shall press, ah, nevermore!

Then, methought, the autumn air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer
Swung by tree limbs whose bare arms wafted through my window yore.
`Wretch,’ I cried, `thy God hath lent thee – by these angels he has sent thee
Respite – respite and nepenthe from thy owner’s memories from before!
Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe, and forget all that came before!’
Quoth the squirrel, `Saintcrow.’

`Augur!’ said I, `thing of evil! – augur still, if squirrel or demon! –
Whether agent sent, or whether readers tossed thee in my grassy knoll,
Desolate yet all undaunted, on this fairy land enchanted –
On this home by horror haunted – tell me truly, I implore –
Is there – is there books in Hel? – tell me – tell me, I implore!’
Quoth the squirrel o’er and o’er, that one dire word: `Saintcrow.’

`Augur!’ said I, `thing of evil! – augur still, if squirrel or demon!
By the Heavens that bend above us – by those gods we both adore –
Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distance fading,
It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels named Saintcrow –
Clasp a rare and radiant maiden, whom the angels named Saintcrow?’
Quoth the squirrel slowly, lowing: `Saintcrow.’

`Be that word our sign of parting, squirrel or fiend!’ I shrieked upstarting –
`Get thee back into the wood and the Night’s ghostly shores!
Leave no grey tuft as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!
Leave my loneliness unbroken! – quit the ball outside my door!
Take thy teeth from out my heart, and take thy form evermore!’
Quoth the squirrel, `Saintcrow.’

And the squirrel, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
On the pallid ball of gazing just outside my screen porch door;
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon’s that is dreaming,
And the lamp-light o’er him streaming throws his shadow ‘cross my floor;
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
Shall be lifted – nevermore!

Friendly Friday: Weregeek’s Alina Pete

Alina Pete

I remember the day I met Alina Pete, because I had a moment of gleeful geekery that stopped me in my tracks–which is hard to do when wandering the floor at Gen Con. I’m a huge fan of Edward Gorey (1), and I was immediately drawn to her homage of Gorey‘s style (2). I’m proud to say that the aforementioned/linked illustrated compendium of Gorey-meets-Dungeons and Dragons is now hanging on my wall, and it often gets many hilarious comments in semi-alphabetical order for those who know what a Quaggoth is.

That, however, was just the beginning of our friendship. Mind you, I had heard of and read Pete’s work before, via her webcomic Weregeek, and have been so excited to watch her career flourish over time. A capable illustrator and designer of the notorious gelatinous cube plush, Alina works tirelessly to produce comics, illustrations, and art for both existing and new fans. This is someone who is both talented and persistent, and is worth many, many squees. She is a lovely human being, and I am damn proud to consider her my friend.

For more about Alina Pete, you can follow her on Twitter @alinapete, visit the Weregeek website, or support her through the Weregeek Patreon.

(1) This, in part, due to Mystery and my fondness for the cross-hatching aesthetic.

(2) If Gorey and dry wit is your jam, I highly recommend you check out Gloom. I wrote about the game for Family Games: The 100 Best, and continue to recommend it for new players. There’s also a game called Corpse Craft: Incident at Weardd Academy produced circa 2008 you can download for your iPad.

    Mood: Grumbily like cinnamon coffee cake. These coffee house tables need a red light/green light when available–especially for those near outlets!
    Caffeinated Beverages Consumed: Um… I admit NOTHING!
    Work-Out Minutes Logged Yesterday: Okay, work with me here. I figured out a route to hit a Pokestop twice, and get 3,000 steps in before my first cup of coffee. I call that a win!
    In My Ears: Some dipshit that’s dominating the conversation with a very talented, capable woman. This conversation is more one-sided than the one I have with my cats every day.
    Game Last Played: Pokemon GO. Review forthcoming. Post gym.
    Book Last Read: Aurora by Kim Stanley Robinson
    Movie/TV Show Last Viewed: The Star Wars trilogy, remastered
    Latest Artistic Project: Make Art Not War 2017 Challenge and Rules
    Latest Releases: In Volo’s Wake for Dungeons & Dragons 5th Edition, Unknown Armies Books 1-3, and Kobold Guide to Gamemastering. Read my end-of-the-year list of releases for an overview of what I’ve put out for 2016.
    Current State of Projects: Read my latest project update. New project update coming this month!



Friendly Friday: The Princess and the F-Bomb

Inspired by Princess Alethea Kontis’s goal to institute friendly friday, I’m pleased to highlight different creators, companies, and artists whose work I really enjoy on this, the day of Freya. I don’t get the chance to squee as much anymore, and I really need that right now. (I had a post planned, in fact, but this particular squee is the kind of stress relief that money cannot buy.) Yes, there’s a lot to be concerned about, but without any humor I’ll devolve into a hot mess that can’t be mopped up.

My friend Bill Bodden presented me with this particular beaut, and I thought it was fitting to end the week with a review of the plushtastic F-Bomb from Plushzilla.

First, I’d like to set the mood. The lights around you dim. You hear the slow, steady beat of a synthesized drum. Then, the ghost of Barry White materializes, and–

*cue loud record scratch*

Uh, let’s try that again. Just a drum roll this time, I think. Perfect!

Presenting the F-Bomb

In the universe of the illustrious plushie, it seems that there is always another avenue of plush-tastic ideas to explore. Take for example Calcifer from Howl’s Moving Castle who, sadly, does not have the fiery temperature of a demon as one might expect. And, the ever-popular Labyrinth worm that neither talks nor walks, who shall forever remain nameless doomed to a lonely existence outside the Goblin King’s maze.

The F-Bomb is one such idea, and shares the Labyrinth worm’s ineffectiveness as it does have several weaknesses. While sewn well, this F-Bomb is not explosive and can be dropped repeatedly and with vigor. In fact, this F-Bomb is so soft it can be launched at any unsuspecting target– even small children under the age of 3. To test this theory, I threw the F-bomb at myself; it felt as if a rainbow-colored unicorn had frolicked in a pile of rose petals and one just happened to land on my cheek. Yes, it was that soft, which leads me to believe this is not a mere plushie. Oh no, this F-Bomb is the avatar of the letter “F” in material form.

I was quite disappointed, however, to discover that the wick isn’t a flammable incendiary device. It appears to be an intricate braid of hairs pulled from an ancient Viking’s beard that was conditioned for days in almond oil, and then attached to the F-Bomb’s butter-soft casing. The red “F” is also made from a similar material as its housing, and while that letter may well be dyed with the blood of someone’s enemies, it’s hard to say if that’s truly the case. No wonder this F-Bomb doesn’t come with a warning label!

The one upside to the F-Bomb, is that its name isn’t something the nefarious Autocorrect will touch. In fact, one can freely say “F-Bomb” instead of the swear word it represents, which prevents quite a bit of confusion. After all, the word “duck” has a slightly different (and considerably more avian) meaning than the -uck beginning with “f”, which makes it a poor, sorry excuse for an expletive.

And now, for a live action response to the F-Bomb. This is a picture of Captain Whinypants who is idly sitting next to the F-Bomb, but not on top of it, ready to toss it at a moment’s notice.

If the F-Bomb strikes your fancy, you can pick one up on Etsy. The store is taking a brief break because they’re on the road. If you follow this link, you can sign up for updates and view the description.

    Mood: Out of ducks
    Caffeinated Beverages Consumed: 2
    Work-Out Minutes Logged Yesterday: 20, but I did not get any Pokestops.
    In My Ears: A fountain and a snoring cat. Would make a great picture book!
    Game Last Played: Pokemon GO
    Book Last Read: Aurora by Kim Stanley Robinson
    Movie/TV Show Last Viewed: Thor
    Latest Artistic Project: Make Art Not War 2017 Challenge and Rules
    Latest Releases: In Volo’s Wake for Dungeons & Dragons 5th Edition and Unknown Armies Books 1-3. Read my end-of-the-year list of releases for an overview of what I’ve put out for 2016.
    Current State of Projects: Read my latest project update. New project update coming this month!



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