mariness

1. Delightful news: the first Mythic Delirium anthology is out in the wild. I have a poem in this one, alongside such amazing people as Amal El-Mohtar, Marie Brennan, Sonya Taaffe, Georgiana Bruce, Jane Yolen, Ken Liu, C.S.E. Cooney, and many, many others.

2. Once Upon a Time is even more snarkable than I could have dreamed in my wildest hopes. Good thing, too, since I will be recapping each episode for Tor.com this season. You can catch the initial posts here, here and here.

I've also been chatting about Paddington Bear, because, Paddington.

3. I finally got to the new Harry Potter section at Universal, and I have to say - I like it a lot more than the first section. Fake London, complete with the little teddy bears that I was chasing all over London (at, I must say, a higher price, which - Universal, if you are more expensive than anything in London, you really need to reconsider your pricing stategy), a dragon that blasts fire every few minutes which is undoubtedly going to be very unpleasant in the summer (you can definitely feel the heat), ice cream, evil wands - yay. Did I mention the dragon? Yay! If you can splurge for the dual tickets for both parks, I recommend it - that lets you take the little train over to Hogwarts, which was fun. (I kinda would have liked at least one view from the train to the rest of the park/Orlando area, but I can see how that would have spoiled the Harry Potter effect.

The one negative note: if you do use a large mobility scooter, the restaurant at the new section may be difficult to navigate - to the point where the greeters at the entrance will suggest leaving the scooter at the entrance and walking in. (I know, because they asked me to do just that - and I was in a smaller scooter.) I would recommend NOT leaving the scooter outside - it's a longer line/distance than it appears.

Fair warning: I am in a hideously bad mood today, but I did want to note that Potterpalooza has started up on Tor.com, opening with my reread of the first book, Harry Potter and the Philosopher or Sorcerer's Stone depending upon which side of the ocean you are living on at the moment.

Since it's possible that some of my crankiness is from a lack of food, off to solve that problem first.

Just returned from seeing The King's Speech, which is a pretty good film that is about to generate several Oscar nominations for most of its cast, especially Colin Firth as George VI (and for those assuming that this is another Colin Firth chick flick role, not really) and Geoffrey Rush as his speech therapist (his winning moment, oddly enough, is when he attempts to persuade a group of amateur actors that yes, yes, he can play Richard III; depending upon how you feel about that particular speech, you will either be howling or covering your ears in pain.)

The casting is pretty much uniformly excellent, featuring, as it does, so many of those British actors that seem to make period films. But one bit threw me. Timothy Spall plays Winston Churchill. The problem with this is not Spall as an actor (he's fine) but that, well, Churchill had a very distinctive look, and Timothy Spall has an equally distinctive look, and when I saw him, I didn't think Churchill, I thought, Wormtail. It's possible that I might not have had Dumbledore (a very good Michael Gambon playing someone not at all like Dumbledore, really) not slid into the movie earlier.

The feeling only got worse when (Spoiler!) Churchill comes over to have a nice chat with the Duchess of York, played by Helena Bonham Carter, aka, Bellatrix, and despite my very best efforts and some lovely acting by all involved all I could think was that Voldemort was about to try to assassinate the royal family, which added a kinda gripping if wrong suspense.

Also, Derek Jacobi, aka His Imperial Stutteringuous Claudius, makes an appearance advising a stutterer, which, well. I am only grateful that no one jumped into pirate singing. Also, Mr. Collins from Pride and Prejudice who was also Cicero in Rome which with the Derek Jacobi bit...yeah. An IMDB.com free-for-all.

I'm not saying that this movie wouldn't have worked better had it not been stocked with Harry Potter, I Claudius and Pride and Prejudice actors, mind you, but I couldn't help thinking of Shakespeare's day, where of course they had the same problem of the same actors shifting to different roles, but at least didn't have to worry that their audience knew quite well what these historical personages should look like.

Anyway, good flick. Go and see it, and try not to think that Voldemort is about to descend on the royal family or anything because (Spoiler!) neither he nor Ralph Fiennes appear in this film.

But first, a question from the Americans in the audience: does it really take Londoners that long to brew a cup of cappuccino? And if so, how on earth is London, as a city, going to be able to handle the Olympics?

But enough of this. Some spoilery thoughts below:

( Deathly Hallows want to eat your spoilery souls! )

So, as part of this (so far, mostly failed) attempt to blog daily in July, a tale from last weekend.

I headed over to my mother's for a small July 4th party. So you know, my mother has a condo that overlooks a small lake and just beyond that, Universal Studios/Islands of Adventure on one side. From another balcony, you can see SeaWorld's occasional fireworks, and if you don't mind heading into the hallway, you can more or less see Disney's fireworks in the distance. That, combined with various small private celebrations (Florida: we can and will use gunpowder at will! YAY!) makes it a pretty decent place to watch fireworks, even if this year, the larger celebrations (the various city/town/neighborhood/resort fireworks) were split up between two nights.

Joining us were some friends and acquaintances from my mother's church – A and B (not their real initials), the acquaintances, and C and MF (their real initials; I think a few of you have actually met them), the actual friends. A was a quiet, older, uncertain man, eager to please; B, his wife, held herself carefully, tightly, and watched everyone. C and I bonded again over a mutual hatred for Alamo Rent-A-Car and Continental Airlines and Delta Airlines while A listened and nodded, and in another area my mother caught up on church news with B and MF.

Over dinner my mother, who really liked my story in Shine: An Anthology of Optimistic Science Fiction and wants me to write more things like that, instead of "that weird stuff," brought up, proudly, the subject of my writing and "all of her great reviews," and I clarified that yes, I write science fiction and – and this is important – fantasy. Fantasy. Fantasy. We're all clear on what this means to most people, right?

Magic.

Since the group did not exactly consist of science fiction/fantasy fans (it's safe to say I was the only one in the group) conversation meandered over to disability issues. My mother noted that when you're chronically ill, you tend to want to spend your good moments enjoying life, not focused on disabled advocacy. Nonetheless, the group agreed that I am nice and articulate and should spend my time doing disabled advocacy, even if I want to write about, say, magic instead.

Fortunately enough things started to explode outside, so to the balconies we headed.

I mentioned that you can see Universal Studios from the condo, right? This unfortunately means that you can also see Universal's Rip Ride Rockit, which from a distance at night looks like a little dragon – or, on July 4th, a little firework - climbing, climbing into the sky and then PLUNGING at a very nasty angle to its dragon death. (Ironically, the cars on Universal's Dragon Challenge ride, from a distance, don't resemble dragons at all.) It's kinda sickening, although I am assured by no less an expert than a ten year old that "Oh that ride is TOTALLY AWESOME BUT YOU HAVE TO RIDE IT AT LEAST FOUR TIMES BEFORE YOU THROW UP." So, um, now you know. You will not be getting my personal testimony on this subject.

But anyway. You can also see Hogwarts rising from the end of the park – and, as it turns out, blocking the main place where Universal Studios used to set off their fireworks, with the result that Universal gave us only a Small and Sad fireworks show, but whatever. This led to a discussion about various trips by grandchildren (I should have mentioned that I was by far the youngest person there) who were all Very Excited about Universal Studios. MF, who, as I may have mentioned, is a very nice woman who deserves better than to be tortured by thrill rides, made a few jokes about it; C revealed that he doesn't actually know the difference between Lord of the Rings and Harry Potter (he'd seen bits of the movies but gotten bored, and never read any of the books). My mother and C complained about the rumors of lines (reportedly still two to four hours, which in Florida summer heat is no joke). I admitted that I loved Harry Potter and was planning on going once the temperatures, at least, got reasonable (I'm not holding out much hope for reasonable lines), and my mother explained that she would be dropping me off, but not bothering to enter herself, and B noted that her grandchildren wanted to see Harry Potter, but that she had read all about witchcraft and wizardry in the Bible, and she knew what the Bible had to say about wizardry and witchcraft.

Pause.

I should note, by the way, that this is not an attitude I tend to associate with the United Methodist Church. (Also, to stave off some potential comments – yes, I'm agnostic; no, I have no problems with churches or Christians.)

Conversation shifted, for awhile, to other things – church gossip, grandchildren gossip, fireworks excitement, general agreement that watching the Rip Ride Rockit and Magical Midway's Slingslot thingy was making everyone sick, and then another mention of Harry Potter, and B admitting that she'd seen the various lines of people heading to or already inside Universal, pretending to be witches.

"Seeing them in their costumes and those wands –" her breath caught a little –"it makes me sick."

Awkward pause.

It took me a few seconds to open my mouth to answer, but MF was there first. "Well, you have to give Harry Potter credit for at least one thing," she said. "It's got kids actually reading real books. That's something."

"That's true," said C hastily.

But I, the fantasy writer, said nothing. Perhaps I should have, but then again, I'd already noted that I was planning on handing over hard earned money to Universal Studios for the sake of Harry Potter, that I liked Harry Potter, and, more critically, that I actually write the sort of things she finds so evil and sickening. Perhaps, I thought, in her focus on the evil of wizards and witchcraft, she missed that the word "fantasy" encompasses both. And I did not want to start an argument in my mother's home with one of her guests - especially since arguing would not have done any good.

Before she left, B told me, again, that I really should become a disabled advocate. The phrase "God's plan" might have been mentioned.

I don't have a neat summary sentence to end this post. It's just a report, really.

7. Tuesday, my father decided to celebrate my birthday by having toilet paper thrown at me.

Seriously.

8. Told to rest and be good. Do not do as much of this as, in retrospect, I should have. Some small things Get Done. Notice feet swelling and decide to take wheelchair instead of scooter for the evening, which turned out, in retrospect, to be a surprisingly prescient move.

9. Take nap. Awoken by overly happy cat.

10. tgregoryt and I take off to my parents, where we transfer cars and drive behind Universal Studios, which right now is mildly awesome since Hogwarts – well, a little Hogwarts – has just been unscaffolded to the wondering eyes of the general public. Mildly amused to realize that from the lofty towards of Fake Hogwarts you can look directly down on the all too real institution of Dr. Philips High School.

11. Drive round and round the general Universal Studios/Islands of Adventure/City Walk area. Begin to wonder where we are going.

12. Where we are going is to a back drop off area, chosen mostly to keep me from squawking about the Universal Studios parking lot. (That failed. I am unable to be within visual distance of that parking lot without squawking about it.) Get into wheelchair. Notice feet swelling. Grr.

13. Off to my birthday surprise, which, as a few of you might have surmised from the toilet paper comment, turned out to be the Blue Man Group, with my parents, brother and fbhjr and malterre.

This was awesome. (Also, loud.) I'd wanted to go for a long while, but getting there on my own is difficult (see, complaints about Universal Studios' parking lot and taxicab and bus access). So, awesome. If you haven't seen them in their various outlets, go. (Also, earplugs.) Show claims that either my brother or father is an Olympics curling champion. We are beginning to wonder.

(Intriguingly enough, although I was fine with the strobe lights, the sound did start to make me dizzy which I must say probably added to the experience – it certainly made the part with the toilet paper considerably more disorienting.)

I want to go again :)

14. Get a Blue Man Group teddy bear (thanks fbhjr and malterre and chocolate.

This is why most of you have not heard much from me recently, and why, alas, I was unable to join fbhjr and malterre and my mother on their expedition to the bird sanctuary. (I feel terrible, since they drove all the way out to pick me up.) Blogging will probably continue to be light until sometime next week. Or possibly sometime in January, despite plans to do lots of Quality Resting in the upcoming days.

1. Alan Rickman rocks.

2. Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince does not have enough Alan Rickman in it.

3. I so want to see what Alan Rickman will be doing in the 7th movie.

4. As always, the producers/directors/writers have done the movie a great injustice by underusing Alan Rickman.

5. We could, as scientists and film reviewers, make an actual case that human evolution has been designed and guided by one single goal: to create an Alan Rickman who was utterly born to play Severus Snape. And if I haven't mentioned it before –

6. Alan Rickman rocks.

Yes, I'm aware that this is pretty close to my initial review of the 5th film but that's because it's still true. It may even be the central guiding truth of all 6 films so far.