Back from FenCon!

Hey all!

Just got back from FenCon X, the world’s foremost furry convention. Depressingly, most of the yiffing seems to have been replaced by the equally ghastly-named filking, as well as science fiction and fantasy discussion. Sad, but I managed to have fun anyway.

Quick shout-out to some of the people who made the weekend great:

Barbara Wright (@zendragandt), author of the fantastic Pyramid Waltz series, my chauffeur and traveling companion. Her worldbuilding tips captivated the Red Oak Room while her constant references to stabbing frightened a significant portion of it. Go forth and check out her work!

– Erin Kennemeyer (@emkennemer), my second caravan comrade and obsessive-to-the-point-of-annoyance filk fanatic. She also served as Barbara’s unofficial publicist, and managed to get a request for one of her own unpublished stories apropos nothing other than being her normal awesome self.

Jim Reader, hometown friend and longtime convention attendee who threw a bangin’ room party Friday night and brought all the boys (and girls) to the bar on Saturday. Had us cracking up as usual, and surprisingly, I didn’t find his caramel-tasting Jack Daniels Honey to be too unappealing, which is high praise for a teetotaler like me.

Rosemary Clement-Moore (@rclementmoore), an unbelievably charming author and apparent purveyor of dinosaur porn who hit it out of the park in her panels with her wit and improv skills. You better believe I grabbed a book from her, straight out of the trunk all classy-like. You can buy her stuff from Amazon, which is possibly more convenient but not near as awesome.

– Michele Bardsley (@michelebardsley), hilarious and prolific author of the Broken Heart and Nevermore series…es (serii? Aggregate nouns are awful). Barbara, Erin and I showed up a half-hour early for a panel about death to find Michele preparing, and far from being dour, we proceeded to laugh ourselves to death talking about ball-jointed dolls and convention grudges. And that was before Amber Benson and Rhonda Eudaly joined the conversation … you know, actual panelists, instead of we three comedy saboteurs. It was both the least educational and most enjoyable panel of the entire weekend.

– MaryJanice Davidson, who prevented me from getting a book deal by throwing Patrick Nielsen Hayden over a balcony just as he was about to make an offer.

Of course, I had many fleeting interactions with other authors and fans, including the little brother himself, Mr. Cory Doctorow. I’ll have a more in-depth writeup coming soon (likely in two parts), but I wanted to throw out a quick mini-recap before I crash and wake up tomorrow confused why I’m surrounded by my own things (video game hardware from the 1990s and collectible porcelain otters, natch) instead of by a half-eaten midnight poboy and a room service menu.

Review: Forest Mage, by Robin Hobb


I
read Shaman’s Crossing, the first book in Robin Hobb’s Soldier Son trilogy, with great anticipation. A fantasy series? With only three reasonably-sized books? That isn’t Wheel of Time or Sword of Truth? And written by a woman? SOLD!

Which is why I was disappointed when I didn’t love it as much as I’d hoped. I actually had to put it down for a few months and come back to it to make it all the way through. And while it did recover — substantially — in the second half, it wasn’t enough for me to put it on any top-ten lists.

Imagine my surprise, then, when the sequel, Forest Mage (dat title! 😉 hit all of my buttons. Powerful, emotional, affecting, and most of all, personal.


Forest Mage‘s major theme is one that was only hinted at in the previous book: fatphobia. A strange and somewhat modern idea for a fantasy novel to play with, but Hobb makes fantastic use of it. Nevare, a soldier-in-training just finishing up his first year at the academy, notices he’s put on some weight, but doesn’t think too much of it until he arrives home and finds his family, friends and fiance disgusted at his new figure. His apoplectic father forces him to diet and labor, and when Nevare fails to lose weight, he’s locked his room and nearly starved to death. And still, he fails to shed any of the excess pounds.

Forest Mage hit all of my buttons. Powerful, emotional, affecting, and most of all, personal.”

Turns out, the weight is a magical curse. Or perhaps a blessing — the reason Nevare is now so bulky is that he’s filled with a foreign magic that he can’t control.

Listen, I’ve struggled with my weight pretty much since puberty, and I don’t think I’ve read anything that addresses the issue as truthfully and relatably as Hobb manages to. Making the weight-gain out of Nevare’s control is a stroke of genius. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve felt like my weight is some magical, mystical force that I’m doomed to endure no matter how hard I try. In my case, it’s not true — but Hobb does a fantastic job capturing that desperation in Nevare’s thoughts and actions.

Even better, she sticks Nevare between two worlds in regards to his body — another familiar place for me. It seems like, for me, there are two options: either be disgusted with my body and dedicate myself to changing it, or be completely content with it and have no desire to be thin. It’s like there’s no middle ground. If I accept my body, then I have to be willing to live with it. If I try to change it, then I have to put up with hating what I look like. Nevare’s in a subtly similar situation. His people view him as lazy, disgusting and immoral, and he desperately desires to change himself to please them. On the other hand, the forest people — those who cursed him — see his size as a source of immense strength, and though that imbues Nevare with a certain satisfaction, he can’t give himself completely over to it. He can’t accept himself one way or another. As he says painfully near the end of the novel, though the cultures have different reactions to his body, neither can see him for who he really is, inside the layers of fat.

I could go on for pages talking about the book, but suffice it to say that affected me greatly. If you’ve never had weight issues (which I doubt to some degree, as it’s hard not to be too fat or too skinny for our culture), you may not have the same reaction — thankfully, the story underneath the themes is captivating as well.

If, like me, you haven’t read any of Robin Hobb’s work, the Soldier Son trilogy is a great place to start. And while I can’t outright recommend skipping the first book (as I said, the last half of it is great, even if the first half is slow), you probably could do that and be okay, if you really wanted to. The second book, while following directly from the first, is somewhat standalone in plot. In any case, I can’t wait to read the conclusion; it’s got some high expectations to fufill.

Penny-Arcade’s boneheaded response to the Dragon’s Crown controversy

A few days ago, Kotaku’s Jason Schreier posted an excellent takedown of the absurd, ridiculous, embarrassing art from Vanillaware’s newest title, Dragon’s Crown. In case you’re not familiar, here’s some of the artwork:

In response to the criticism, Vanillaware’s lead artist called him a homosexual. So, yeah. That happened.

I won’t get into what a disgusting response that is. Suffice it to say it’s killed what little, tiny interest I had in playing the game based on their previous titles. I would like to address some of the response to the criticism. Well, one response in particular.

Whenever this shit comes up, it seems like Penny-Arcade has to jump to the rescue to defend the masses of sexist, ignorant gamerbros. One might say it’s their passion.

For the record, I’m a huge fan of Penny-Arcade. I’ve supported their Kickstarter, purchased their merchandise, read their comics and watched their videos. But every time they wade into the pool of gender issues or social justice, they come out blackened, like a little person carrying a cursed ring or a wizard touching the devil-tainted source of magic in one o’ them fantasy novels. I might suggest that they just stop making fools of themselves in this regard, but of course, that would be (GASP!) censorship! And I wouldn’t want to be accused of that.

Anyhoo, PA’s Jerry Holkins posted a screed of sorts, lambasting those with the gall to find Dragon Crown distasteful. Let’s unpack this, shall we?

You probably don’t have to guess how I feel about this latest round of compulsory swaying and fainting, so much like an old timey Tent Revival, complete with its hopping devil and its perpetually put upon holy warriors.

Hooray! We start out with the classic accusation: any discussion about sexism is done by prudish, weak-tempered Maude Lovejoys who swoon at the mere thought of revealed, supple flesh. Yawn. I don’t even really need to address this, other than to say I’ve seen things you people wouldn’t believe. I haven’t been shocked by a depiction of sexuality in quite some time, possibly ever. And it’s not even about offense, really. As one of the Twitterati put it, this shit doesn’t offend me, it pisses me off. It pisses me off that this bullshit attracts legion of defenders.

You want to know why things like the attacks against Anita Sarkeesian happen? You want #1reasonwhy? Because art like this reduces women to flesh to be enjoyed by the male player. I guarantee you, I absolutely guarantee you that the character designer gave not one thought to a woman playing the game. By his response, it’s evident he gave not one thought to anyone other than a straight male playing the game.

everybody else is some fun-house exponent of strength or beauty stretched into some haunted sigil.  Iconic isn’t even the word – they don’t evoke icons, they are icons.  They’re humans as primal symbols.

Seriously, the “well, all the characters are exaggerated, so it’s okay” defense? Is there just a handbook of common, moronic defenses against sexism these people jump to? There must be, because they just keep coming up. Holkin’s half-page rant manages to hit at least half of the checkmarks on Cracked’s excellent 8 Stupidest Defenses Against Sexism Accusations article, which is, in a way, impressive.

These are not primal symbols of humanity. Or, rather, they are primal symbols reflecting a very specific human: a straight male human. The Sorceress does not reflect “beauty” — she reflects a juvenile male notion of sexuality. The Dwarf, who looks like a roided-out bodybuilder times a million, does not reflect anything a female would actually be attracted to. He represents a male idea of what power is — HUGE FUCKING MUSCLES. I don’t know what the fuck the barbarian woman is supposed to represent, with her 8-year-old-girl head/face, bodybuilder body, bikini and giant fucking tits, but whatever it is has some giant fucking problems.

It’s worth pointing out that those, like Holkins, who claim that these depictions aren’t sexist because the characters are morphed past the point of recognition are just lying through their teeth. Internet commenters galore have gleefully been waiting for the chance to play as the Sorceress. Just look at her! She’s wearing next to nothing, and her tits bounce! THEY BOUNCE!

Hell, even their comic makes this fucking point. Gabe (a thinly-veiled avatar for co-creator Mike Krahulik at this point) says he wants to play the Sorceress because she’s a big-titted, scantilly-clad object designed specifically for his lizard-brain enjoyment, but if the Dwarf had been exaggerated in the same way, with a giant, half-visible penis hanging out of his shorts, it would make him uncomfortable.

This is, of course, played for laughs. Way to almost get the point, fellas! You know how playing that Dwarf character would seem humorous at best, and strange and uncomfortable at worst? That’s exactly how a significant number of women and men feel playing as the sexed-up sorceress!

It’s very weird to pull up a story about a game with frankly visionary art and hear why it shouldn’t exist

Hahahahahaha. Yes. Visionary. Thank goodness someone is making fantasy/video game artwork featuring objectified women with giant breasts and little clothing. I was getting goddamn sick of all these copycats drawing empowered female characters.

It’s an incredible state of affairs.  They’re not censors, though – oh, no no.  You’ll understand it eventually; what you need to do is censor yourself.

This isn’t on the Cracked list, but it should be. Equating criticism with censorship is a classic rookie mistake, but not one too surprising, as we’ve heard it from these two before. Frankly, you’d think people who make part of their living criticizing games, movies, etc., would recognize the hypocrisy inherent in this. Why did you guys put down Aliens: Colonial Marines, huh? Why did you boot Contestant Y off of StripSearch? WHY ARE YOU TRYING TO CENSOR THEM?

So, no. Calling a piece of artwork terrible, sexist, lazy and juvenile (all of which fit Dragon’s Crown to a tee) is not a call for censorship. If Mike and Jerry want a second opinion on that, maybe they should ask their employee Ben Kuchera, who also criticizes the artwork (though for a different reason). Is he just a big ol’ censor, too?

I’ll end this by pointing out that not once in the newspost does Holkins mention one of the main points of this controversy, that the game designer defending himself by calling the accuser gay, as if that were both an insult and a conversation-ender. This omission is somewhat telling.

Author’s Guild Facepalm of the Day

I can’t even deal with this shit this morning, so I’ll make it brief. Go take a look at latest screed from Scott Turow, the head of the Author’s Guild. I’ll wait.

Assuming you can remove your palms from your forehead long enough to continue reading this, I’ll note that Turow’s Guild was the one who fought against the text-to-speech function on the Kindle because he didn’t think blind people should be able to read books (all right, not his real reasoning, but it doesn’t make him any less of an ass). He also fought Google’s book scanning project, because I guess he doesn’t like people to be able to find books.

Now he’s fighting against … libraries, I guess? But the whole essay is less about authors and more about politics, as is evident when he starts to rant about our “socialistic” public library system and “Soviet-style repression.”

I have no idea why any author in their right mind would be a member of this organization.

New Release – Legends of Urban Horror Anthology

Today is release day … sort of! My latest story, ‘The Bridesmaid,’ is featured in Siren’s Call’s newest anthology, Legends of Urban Horror: A Friend of a Friend Told Me. In addition to my entry, there are some great spooky tales in here, so I highly recommend checking it out. Here’s a short synopsis:

We’ve all come across them. The warnings told by a friend of a friend – don’t go in there, I wouldn’t if I were you, did you hear about…? Or perhaps your mind leaps to the cryptozoological realm – creatures barely glimpsed, and yet to be identified. Other spheres of existence – they can’t be real… certainly not until you’ve experienced one! Maybe the real horror lies in the minds and hearts of others just like you. People with a slightly bent perspective that feed on the fear in others. Twisted souls that would take advantage of the weak, or vulnerable. Those who believe they are doing good for a higher power, or to gain power simply for themselves. Petty vengeance that breathes a life of its own once unleashed. Whatever your poison, the ten stories in Legends of Urban Horror: A Friend of a Friend Told Me are sure to intrigue, and perhaps bring back fears long forgotten.

As an additional incentive, I’m posting a very short excerpt of the story for your enjoyment. Check it out, leave a review, let me know what you think!


Excerpt from The Bridesmaid

I don’t think about the place again — honest, I don’t — until a few nights after that. I wake up screaming, all sweaty and gross, and turn over to look at my clock. It’s three in the morning. Em’s snoring next to me, completely oblivious. I guess I wasn’t loud enough.

It wasn’t the scariest nightmare I’ve ever had, by any means. The bridal shop is there, I go inside, run down a seemingly never-ending hallway that finally opens up into the art studio, and I see him there. Mister Painter. Only this time, he isn’t smiling. His face is all twisted up with fear. He holds up a hand to me, and for a minute I’m scared he’s going to have a gun. Instead, he shows me his palm. In the middle of it is a pulsating green light, buried into his hand like someone just hammered it in. The skin around it is the classic grotesque shade of red and white that just screams infection. I ask him what he wants, but he doesn’t say anything. The dream ends. See? Like I said, hardly Freddy Krueger.

I decide not to wake Emily and instead get up from bed and pull on a pair of pajama pants. We don’t have any roommates, but I still feel weird going out to the living room in my skivvies. The fridge beckons me over, so I open it up to see if anything inside calls to me. Milk, juice and leftovers. Bleh. I just pour myself a cup of ice water and lean against the sink while I hydrate and cool off. Em’s school books are there on the table, along with pens and notebooks. I open the thickest textbook, some anatomy thing, and flip through the pages while sipping my water. That bores me pretty quickly, so I close it and look over at the closest notebook, open to a blank page. And I don’t know why, but I pick up one of the pens and start to doodle.

It seems like only a few seconds pass, but when I set the pen down and look up at the microwave, it’s almost four o’clock. My gaze falls down to the paper and I drop my glass. Thankfully, it falls harmlessly onto the table instead of the floor.

Em’s notebook is covered in the horrifying scrawls of Isabella’s Formalwear. Only they didn’t come from Mister Painter; they came from me. Veiny eyes on each corner, a massive black pyramid, incomprehensible equations, and of course, strange, hulking humanoids all around. Blob-men.

I rip the page out of the notebook, crumple it up and toss it in the trashcan. Then something touches my foot. I cry out and nearly upend the table before I realize it’s just the water I spilled. I calm myself down, then grab a paper towel and mop it up. Kneeling down beneath the table, I start to cry, just a little. I don’t know why. I don’t cry. I’m not a crier. I blot the tears and blow my nose into the paper towel, which I then throw away. The picture taunts me from its place atop the heap. I push it down and bury it under banana peels and old homework assignments, then wash my hands and go back to bed. It’s the nightmare, I tell myself. It must have bothered me more than I thought. I fall asleep angry at my own brain.

(Paperback from AmazonKindleSmashwords)

Why Nate Silver is Awesome, but not a Wizard

The 2012 election is now officially over. The dust has (mostly) cleared, the winners and losers have been (mostly) identified, and the accountability game has started up. Who made the best predictions? The worst? Did Tagg Romney take a swing at anyone on election night?

Some of these questions may never be answered. But it’s clear in the wake of the results that The New York Times’ (and former DailyKOS blogger) Nate Silver is being heralded as a modern-day oracle, possessing of superhuman knowledge and predictive skills. #NateSilverFacts has taken off on Twitter, generating a list of impressive feats about the Chicago Economics-bred statistician (my favorite? “Nate Silver can recite pi — backwards.”)

Does he deserve the credit? Absolutely! He’s been doing this since the 2008 primaries, and while he’s always been known in political blogging circles, it’s great to see him get some mainstream recognition. That said, equating him to a wizard is sort of problematic to me, not because Silver isn’t awesome (again, he is — his book, The Signal and the Noise, was one of my favorite reads this year), but because it highlights the fact that the rest of us should be doing a lot better.

This whole concept is especially interesting to me, as the novel I’m working on finishing up for NaNoWriMo (uh … right after this post, I swear) is about a guy who predicts the future with mathematics (sort of akin to Foundation, but more fantastic than science fictional). So … yeah.

With that in mind, I’d like to present a few reasons why Nate Silver is not a wizard — and most of these assertions actually come from Silver himself.

The Basic Idea is Simple

Nate Silver’s model is, by all accounts, a complicated beast. It aggregates polls in a sophisticated manner, weighting them according to previous pollster performance. It also uses economic data and accounts for certain ‘bumps’ (naming VP candidates, conventions, etc) to come to a conclusion. And as we saw Tuesday night, it’s pretty damned accurate. At the presidential level, Silver called 51 out of 51 races correctly.

That’s impressive. But how impressive, really? There’s something called the Pareto Principle (also referred to in Silver’s book as the Power Law Distribution, or 80-20 rule) that can be applied to a large number of endeavors — the most basic formulation is that 80% of your sales will come from 20% of your customers, or in software, 80% of your bugs will come from 20% of your code.

In political predictions, I’d claim that you can become 80% as accurate as the big guys (Nate Silver, Sam Wang at the Princeton Election Consortium, who also had a fantastic night) with 20% of the work. In fact, I’d claim that the truth is probably something like 90-5 — 90% as accurate, 5% of the effort.

Can I back that up? Sure. Let’s take a look at RealClearPolitics. RCP is a right-leaning poll aggregator started by Steve Forbes. It’s simple. Every single state poll* is averaged to get a final number. That’s about as easy as it gets, folks. Assuming we don’t count things like web design, all we’re doing is averaging numbers. I can write that program in less than five minutes. So how did RCP do? Pretty damn well. At least 80% as well as Nate Silver.

As far as I can tell, they called 50 out of 51 races correctly. The one they missed was Florida, which even Nate Silver called a coin flip, and even then, RCP didn’t miss it by all that much.

This is not to denigrate Mr. Silver, or claim that he’s wasting his time. Instead, it’s meant to admonish people who say “Well, sure, but he gets paid to blog and predict full-time. Come on, that’s not fair.” This stuff is not incredibly hard. It was easy to see that Obama would win if he won Ohio, and as Silver pointed out on Twitter, Obama had lead in something like 98% of Ohio polls in the week before the election.

Predicting Tomorrow is Easier than Predicting Next Year

Nate’s final prediction range for the electoral results — the president winning re-election with somewhere in the neighborhood of 313 electoral votes — was fairly accurate (at the time of this writing, it seems likely President Obama will win Florida, netting him a total of 339 EV). Not bad, right? But that’s the day before the election. Fivethirtyeight went up in June of 2012, and since then, it’s been something of a rollercoaster. While Obama always maintained a lead, the range went up and down dramatically, decreasing to a low of 285 EV after the first debate.**

Is that a problem? Perhaps not. We should always adjust our predictions to account for new data. But at the same time, that adjustment doesn’t mean we get to discount problematic predictions. I might predict a sunny morning on Tuesday, but if I see black clouds coming in late Monday night, I’m obviously going to change that prediction and take an umbrella. Doesn’t change my initial forecast, however.

We can make judgements about the usefulness of far-out forecasts, of course. To take the weather metaphor even further, predicting rain two weeks in advance is much more impressive than doing so a day in advance, but is it appreciably more useful? Maybe in some cases (taking a vacation?) but probably not most.

So give Nate Silver credit for his final forecast, but keep in mind that the model wasn’t a magical prediction machine that foresaw events like the lopsided conventions, Romney’s debate performance and Hurricane Sandy. That realization leads us to…

His Model Isn’t Perfect

Fivethirtyeight called every state correctly at the presidential level, but it wasn’t all perfection. Some margins were off fairly signficantly. Silver predicted Obama would win Ohio by 3.6 percentage points; he actually won by less than 2. He projected Florida to be a literal tie (though he did think it slightly likelier than not that Obama would take the state); Obama is expected to win by a full percentage point when the counting is finished.

On the Senate level, we see some misses. While most of the states were called correctly, Montana and North Dakota were predicted to be taken by the Republican candidates with a 67% and 93% likelihood, respectively. Democrats won both races.

In fairness, these are probabilistic predictions, not guarantees. If I roll a die and predict I’ll roll a number between 1 and 5 with a 83% probability, that doesn’t make my prediction incorrect if I roll a 6. And furthermore, Silver includes his uncertainty about his predictions, generally stated as a margin of error.*** But if someone gave Silver 9 to 1 odds on Heidi Heitkamp losing ND based on his model, he could have lost quite a bit of money.

I think Mr. Silver would be the first to admit his model is not perfect. He says as much in his book, predicting that once the media and campaigns start to catch on to his basic methodology, he will probably be outclassed. I’m sure his model will continue to improve in 2014 and 2016. But improvement is definitely possible.

The Bar is Low 

In the land of the blind, the one-eyed man is god. Or wizard, or something. Silver’s predictions are quite accurate, but at the same time, he doesn’t really have substantial competition. Pundits suck. Everyone knows it. Nate Silver himself knows this — in his book, he performs a study which concludes that predictions made by political pundits (in this case, on The McLaughlin Group) are no more accurate than a coin toss. And while he doesn’t make any strong claims as to why this is, I think it’s pretty clear that it’s not just laziness — it’s that there’s no incentive for a pundit to be accurate, as the political parties pay them to toe the party line, and the media facilitates it in the name of being “fair and balanced” and “hearing both sides of the story.”

But imagine we lived in a world where campaigns readily accepted polling data (whilst recognizing that no individual poll or polling organization or going to be perfect). Imagine we lived in a world where pundits like Dick Morris, who is renowned for poor predictions and forecasted a Romney landslide, and Jennifer Rubin, who had been predicting a Romney win for ages, then after the election, straight up admitted to lying about it all, were fired and never listened to again.

In that world, Nate Silver would be a pretty average fish in a big pond, I would think. As it stands now, he’s a trout sitting at the top of a bucket of dead minnows.

In Conclusion: Nate Silver is awesome, but that’s no excuse for others not to be.

Really, the whole point of this post is not to take anything away from, or even bolster, Mr. Silver’s analysis. He has plenty of detractors, defenders, and judging from his sales post-election, money. What I do want to get across, however, is that the rest of us, and the media in particular, should be doing a lot better. Republicans who were utterly shocked by Romney’s loss may have bigger problems than who is president — they might living in a bubble impervious to rational thought. Those Democrats who had the same reaction in 2010, or who in 2012 thought that the House would gain a massive Democratic majority as the populace stood up and loudly rejected conservatism, are similarly in trouble. Even worse are certain segments of the  punditocracy, who in the name of ratings, decide to ignore anything that doesn’t fit with the narrative they’d like to tell.

Nate Silver does solid work with honest numbers. We should be demanding the same of all our talking heads.

Finally, some advice for the Republicans

You’ve been hearing this from pretty much everyone, but allow me to reiterate. Your constant dismissal of Nate Silver (and Sam Wang, and many others) is yet another data point in a worrying trend, namely the refusal of certain higher-ups in your party (and lower-downs in your base) to reject facts. Being an underdog doesn’t mean you’re going to lose; it means you need to work harder, and be prepared if you fall short. We can argue about the extent of global climate change and the optimal decision for an individual government to make. We can argue about whether gay and lesbian Americans should have the right to marry, as abhorrent as I find even pretending that there’s a moral counterargument to that.

But there is no arguing that Barack Obama was the huge favorite to win the 2012 election. There is no arguing that carbon emissions from fossil fuels have exacerbated a problematic greenhouse effect. There is no arguing that sexuality is not something that can be dismissed or changed by praying hard enough.

These are facts, and facts are immutable. Denying them and ignoring them will lead to failure. Always.

* RCP has a habit of excluding certain polls, sometimes with justification, sometimes not. I suspect it would be more accurate if it included everything — let the right-biased polls be counteracted by the left-biased ones.

** FiveThirtyEight also included a daily “NowCast,” a prediction of the results if the election were to have been held that day. If Silver’s model was 100% perfect, I’d expect the NowCast to change substantially each day, while the Election Day forcast would stay completely same. Obviously, no model is perfect.

***One of the funny things about margins of error is that, though uncertainty is a sign of an honest prediction, they can be abused. I don’t think this is the case with Nate Silver (though his +-70 EV margin might be viewed as a large range), but one can easily see how this could be the case in general. It’s not really fair for me to predict an earthquake next year centered in downtown Los Angeles with a 3000-mile margin of error, and then claim I called it correctly when something rumbles up in Canada.

Friday Fun: Overclock Remix’s FFVI Kickstarter almost finished!

Happy Friday! It’s been kind of a weird week (or two) what with all the Reddit stuff, politics, and getting ready to move into my house (my first time dealing with lenders, builders, landscapers, etc). So I thought I’d throw up something light for Friday — look for this to continue on Fridays for the foreseeable future.

Today I want to talk about OverClock Remix. It’s a fantastic website for anyone into video game music, and I’d be surprised if there are any VGM aficionados out there who haven’t at least heard of it. It’s essentially a community dedicated to remixing songs from video games and providing those remixes completely free-of-charge. If you need to take a peek at their body of work, all their songs are available at their website, and if you want to listen to a big chunk, their newly redone torrents containing every song they’ve ever done are likely to be right up your alley.

There’s more, though. The past few years, OCRemix has gone from doing individual songs, to remixing entire game soundtracks. They’ve done soundtracks for Donkey Kong Country, Final Fantasy I,IV,V and VII, Wild Arms, Pokemon, Zelda and tons more. Now they’ve set their sights on one of my favorite games ever, Final Fantasy VI, with an album called Balance and Ruin. And not only are they releasing the music free, digitally, as they always have, but they’ve also created a Kickstarter for a physical release.

Check it out!

With a week left, they’ve wildly surpassed their goal (and even added physical releases of previous albums to the rewards!) but there are still slots left to get your hands on the album. To encourage you to kick a few bucks their way, I’ve posted some of my favorite tunes from the game. The first two are remixes from OCRemix, entitled “Cid in the Factory” and “Arab Painting.” If you’re new to the site, these two should give you an idea of the diversity of musical styles that OCRemix plays with.

And finally, I have to post the climax of the soundtrack: the ending theme. One of my favorite pieces from the entire series, it’s a shame this has never been properly remixed or orchestrated. Hopefully Balance and Ruin changes that.

Have a chill weekend, and I’ll see you next week!

I’ve been infected with a virus … and the only cure is blogging about my WIP!

Thanks to Jim Reader over at the Central Texas Home for the Terminally Twitchy infecting me with a viral bloghop, I’ve decided to share some information about my current work-in-progress (which is, of course, different from the book I’m currently shopping). I’ve also decided not to tag anyone else, as most of the writing friends who I know are working on novels have already been tagged. SO THERE!

What is the working title of your book?

Chanter: A Song of War

Where did the idea come from for the book?

I always forget the answer to this question as soon as I start writing. I remember the initial seed of the story came from the system of magic (which is based on music combined with the Japanese elements), partially because I love Bard-type classes in video games, and thought they’d never really been given the potential they deserved.

What genre does your book fall under?

Fantasy.

Which actors would you choose to play your characters in a movie rendition?

Hmm. For Magdalena, possibly Christina Hendricks (but, like, a young Christina Hendricks) or Deborah Ann Moll (she’s a bit too thin, but she seems to have the right sort of fiery temperament). For Professor Rylock, uh, maybe Clive Owen or Colin Firth? All are absurdly attractive, but then, lead actors sort of have to be attractive, right?

What is the one-sentence synopsis of your book?

A songstress with an incredible power and a researcher delving into the mathematics guiding magic work together to fend off vicious insectoid invaders.

Will your book be self-published or represented by an agency?

Good question, that. I’m going to do everything in my power to go the trade publishing route, but I won’t say no to self-publishing if years and years pass and there’s no progress.

How long did it take you to write the first draft of your manuscript?

I started last November for NaNoWriMo, and it’s about 3/4ths done.

What other books would you compare this story to within your genre?

I hate this question as well. I suppose the first “Mistborn” book might be a decent comparison, given that there’s a bit of focus on the magic system, and it’s also about a young woman caught up in events as opposed to a predestined hero of the world or anything like that.

Who or What inspired you to write this book?

As I said above, the initial seed of the story was based around music and bards, and it sort of took off from there. I’ve used (limited) experience in high school band and my (more extensive, but also limited) experience in academics to tug at some of the threads.

What else about the your book might pique the reader’s interest?

Aside from the music-as-magic idea, which I happen to think is pretty cool, I think this story’s strength is the same as all my stories, if such strength exists: the characters, their relationships and the themes that come out of them. I try to create flawed, complicated but still admirable characters, and that goes for both protagonists and antagonists. Stephen King said something like “Fantasy needs a really strong, really evil villain to succeed” in reference to Dolores Umbridge from Harry Potter, and while that might be the case, I’ve never really ascribed to that. My antagonists are rarely “evil” — “misguided” is about as far as it goes. If that idea appeals to you, you might enjoy Chanter.

Something From My Wonderous Work-In-Progress

Just thought I’d post an excerpt of what popped out of my head these past few days. It’s a stupid project, one that will not amount to anything, but one that seems to refuse to stop bouncing around my thoughts until I write it all down. See if you guess what it is.

CONQUEST
Do you want to know how your sisters died, Amazon? They died screaming, crying for mercy, begging Ares to spare their honor. They died cowering. Not like warriors. Like women. I wish I could have seen it.

DIANA appears on top of a crumbled pillar, clenching her teeth.

DIANA
You want to hit a woman? Here I am. Go ahead and try me, coward. See what it feels like to be a big, strong man. But I promise whatever you give me, I can give it twice back in return.

CONQUEST stomps forward. DIANA lifts a massive piece of rubble from nearby and pelts him with it, halting his progress. She barrels forward into his chest, pushing him back. He swings wildly but misses, and as promised, DIANA hits him with two powerful blows to the midsection. CONQUEST swings again, hitting DIANA with little effect. She drives a heel into his knee, and as he bends forward, she directs a savage elbow into the side of his head. CONQUEST’S helmet falls into the dirt, revealing a bloody, battered head beneath it.

DIANA

Don’t bother begging for your honor. You never had any to begin with.

Release Day: 100 RPM

Today’s the day! My short (short! As in shorter than most of my blog posts!) story “Gold Digger” is included in the anthology 100 RPM, which is now for sale on Amazon for 99p (that’s ~$1.50 for us Yanks over in The Colonies).

I’m pretty proud of this, not only for the challenge of writing a story with so few words, or for appearing in print with Caroline Smailes and 80s idol Nik Kershaw. I’m also proud that the proceeds from the eBook go to One in Four, a charity aiding sexual abuse survivors.

So give it a go and let me know what you think. I’m only a few stories in and already loving it — so many imaginative examples of what can be done in a tiny amount of space.

Buy at Amazon!