Pinned toot

Up until recently, Fidget was a writer who liked to pretend that she knew what she was doing. At some nexus of horror, sci-fi, and fantasy, she was swallowed alive. The only things she left behind were a ball of yarn, a dog-eared Nightcrawler comic, and a battered Joy Division cassette.

If you have any information on this missing Mastodon user, please contact your instance's authorities.

Last known picture of victim. Feared dead or lost to the Otherworld.

Pinned toot

Wolverine is ridiculous: a thread. 

I am moving to a different instance. This is likely permanent.

Thank you for your time.

@fidgety
My sister who works at Disney World (and wrote dialogue for the Incredibles park show!) has confirmed that there are flashing light sequences in The Incredibles 2

I'm coming out of hiatus for a few minutes to give yinz a heads up:

To my fellow photosensitive epileptic friends: DO NOT go see the Incredibles 2. Apparently, there's a lot of scenes with strobe lights -- and, from what I understand, one clocks in at about two minutes solid. At no point are there any warnings.

It's hard to believe that, in this day and age, stuff like this is still being made, and without warnings, at that. But here we are.

Anyway, that's all the information I have.

international politics 

Writing jam for Sunday morning: Peter Murphy and Trent Reznor covering "Warm Leatherette".

youtu.be/XiO0e08QGTA

I finally got my back porch spruced up and cleaned. Now I have a quiet writing/morning coffee space.

The patio set was, er, gifted to me by my parents because it was starting to rust (gee, thanks!). Though I've never taken on a project like this before, I tried something new. For the first time, I used a power-sander, and a few cans of (super cute!) turquoise Rust-Oleum later, I had this awesome set.

Take it from me, kids. But used, but salvageable. You could end up with something awesome.

I know they're hard to see, but some deer were in my yard last night. The buck was fairly large.

I have a new writing buddy. It tripped off some random thing about the Point Pleasant incident, and boom! Just like that, this overreaching plot arc came together. And not just for one book -- it feels like three.

And all of it was exactly what I've wanted to do, but felt that it was too complicated. Well, it's not. Furthermore, it's my story, and I'm going to make it work.

Rewrite and ordering of previous work starts in earnest tomorrow. See you in a month.

I don't know why all this drama has spilled over onto my TL, but Mastodon really isn't fun right now.

I'm heading over to my other account for a bit. It's quieter.

Drowned out by the human cacophony; free to speak again among the insects and night creatures.

1. Few things in this world fill me with more joy than cryptozoology shit. Well, except for Bigfoot. He can go to hell.

2. This has been ongoing since I was a very small child.

3. Other than Mothman, I don't really believe in this stuff. But, well, you know what the poster says.

4. I was going to do an ongoing macro photography project with the Chupacabra, but I kind of forgot about it. Maybe I should give it another try.

Hey, remember a few months ago when I was beyond excited to find out that a company was making adorable little cryptids, and I came home with a Chupacabra? Well, my husband surprised me today with BOTH Mothmen (my favorite!), Cthulhu, and a blind box for us to share. Of course, we ended up with a rare (and so, so cute!) Ogopogo, so I traded him for my Lovecraftian nightmare.

He also got a Nightcrawler for himself (the cryptid, which has nothing to do with my fictional boyfriend.)

The Elves listened from the forest.
"Is that humans?"
"They're singing. I like it."
"It sounds horrible!"
"And still they sing."
"Oh. Yes."
#MicroFiction #TootFic #SmallStories

TRASH PANDA UPDATE: Well, the babies are gone. Roxy was doing her "GET OFF MY LAWN!" bark earlier, so I assume that mom returned.

I guess that's it. Godspeed, children of the trash.

Someone stole my gruntles.

I have been... Disgruntled.

These tiny trash pandas were hiding behind the garbage cans down by the shop. We can't find mom.

I know enough not to touch them, so I won't. But a thunderstorm is rolling in, and I'm anxious for their safety.

It's always an adventure out here.

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Wandering Shop

The Wandering Shop is a Mastodon instance initially geared for the science fiction and fantasy community but open to anyone. We want our 'local' timeline to have the feel of a coffee shop at a good convention: tables full of friendly conversation on a wide variety of topics. We welcome everyone who wants to participate, so long as you're willing to abide by our code of conduct.