Mystic Sheep Studios

The cover for the anthology "No Man's Land" can be seen here .  I am very excited! Note who wrote story number 6- "Come Like a Tailor". It will be released in late May.

We found the Reaper landing field. Acres of red lights, blinking in unison. And that's just the first night of our trip to Space. (spoiler : no alien abductions were involved in this adventure - that I remember anyway.)

 

 The Small Press and Comic Expo (SPACE) was a very fine time for us at Mystic Sheep Studios and well worth the ten hour drive. It's always an adventure to take the Prius Bus (aka Hermes) on a road trip. For our new readers, Hermes is my neurotic, OCD, gender-confused Prius. I love him dearly and he's been a member of the family and the studio for over a year now. He patiently ferries us from one con to another, to cartoonist conspiracy meetings, and art/chocolate collective gatherings. His neurosis has become worse of late, as noted by some of his strange behavior on this trip.

 I blame a call from the Mustache Ranger's computer a couple of weeks ago. I answered the call via Hermes who is kind enough to act as a bluetooth speakerphone when I'm driving. He says it's safer and he is a card carrying member of the Safety Patrol. He fusses at us for the slightest infraction. So I had a nice chat with Computer about space coyotes and robot dogs then thought nothing more of it. I now suspect there were some back-channel shenanigans going on. Hermes has developed new quirks.

 "Hermes?"

 "Yeah?"

 "Why does it feel like we're going in circles?"

 "Dunno. You must be confused or something. Look at the map. We're going in a series of L's. Duh." A short pause, "Though I can see how that might feel like a circle to those lacking the right sensors."

 "..."

 "Ya know, like a knight in a chess game."

 "Why?"

 "It's cool."

 "Have you been talking with Ranger's Computer?"

 "Well, yeah but I wasn't going to tell you about it. A little privacy please."

 Now, it could just be the way Columbus roads are laid out. I haven't really studied the road maps for that area. I'll admit that I've become lazy about my map memorization and preparation since I now have Hermes to do the navigating and my iPad 2 (named Griffon) to provide backup mapping services. We also have Stacie's iPhone (name unknown) so getting lost is not a big concern. I may have to rethink that strategy. Then again, we did make it to all our destinations and had a very nice scenic tour of Columbus. Perhaps I'm complaining too much.

 SPACE itself was a wonderful event. Fantastic, even. There are so many talented people exhibiting their comics and other creations there. I loved talking with everyone and we bought a metric ton of comics to read. I will do another post soon listing some of these amazing people.

 Our work was well received. We also have new fans. One is Joshua the Samurai. He stopped by to talk to us several times and sketched us a wonderful picture of his character, Bambi, communing with a traffic light fairy. Turns out, she runs an all-night Chinese diner and I'm sure the TLFs hang there when they're not at the Urban Sprawl Bar. I've also heard rumors that the band goes there after shows. Joshua the Samurai is working on a song for us and we'll link you to it as soon as he posts it to YouTube.  Ah, I love enthusiastic and creative fans!

 My personal highlight of the weekend was a visit on Sunday from an old friend and fellow author. I haven't seen this friend in at least three years so it was wonderful to spend time catching up. I got to hear more about his impending book deal. I'm looking forward to seeing this bit of history in print.

 The drive home was a little more straight forward. We passed a field of windmills in northern Indiana. They were appearing and disappearing in the fog, leviathan arms slowly sweeping the mist up to pass on to the next in line. It turns out this is also the aforementioned Reaper landing field. Now you'll know what inspired that aliens and windmills story I'll eventually get around to writing.

 And remember the problems with Hermes? Well, we certainly didn't go back the way we came. We can, apparently, only go around Indianapolis widdershins. And there was a little incident in Gary, Indiana. We ended up on a six lane road with no other cars in either direction during the middle of the day. I wondered briefly if the zombie apocalypse had occurred and we'd missed it since we were listening to the Beatles on my iPad.

 "Uhm Hermes, dearest?"

 "Whatta ya want?

"Where are the other cars?"

 "I dunno."

 "Why did we leave the interstate?"

 "Got bored. This is a much more interesting road, don'tcha think?"

 "Interesting is a good word for it," I note  as we pass a bridge to nowhere. I was just glad Hermes hadn't decided to try flying. "Any chance we could get back to the interstate?"

 "It's right ahead."

 Traffic slowly started picking up again as we hit the Chicago Skyway, though I was still a little worried about the paucity of other drivers. It turns out my fears were unfounded. There were no zombies. It turns out that Chicago is a gravitational well that is nearly impossible to escape. Traffic was backed up in every direction. The expressway was a parking lot. So I asked Hermes for an alternate route which landed us in heavy road construction. Sigh.

 We did eventually escape and made it home it reasonably good time.

 I wonder what adventures we'll have on our journey to SPACE next year?

My story, "Forensix", is up today over at 'New Myths' issue 14. Enoy! http://www.newmyths.com/

New page up at http://urbanfey.net <insert witty observation here.>

New page at http://urbanfey.net This really looks like one of those rock and a hard place situations.

Another blog post? What madness is this? Go to http://mysticsheepstudios.com to learn about The Shelf while I get back to writing.

I stand on the edge of the cliff, contemplating the beautiful valley below. I look out further towards my destination. I've been told those far mountains are unattainable. You're the wrong gender, you're too old, too young, not talented enough, too talented to waste your efforts on such flights. I tune out those voices one by one and now I no longer hear them. The only sounds are of the wind, the songs of birds, the buzz of insects, and the whispers of those saying Yes! You can! Maybe the whispers are wrong; maybe they only exist in my head. But maybe not. I stretch my wings, testing their strength and readiness.

I've practiced over the years, seeking out opportunities to take short flights with safety nets or at least non-lethal falls. Rifle corps is a boys-only club. I persisted.  You can't do this research for your dissertation! It's never been done before! I persisted. You can't move across the country on your own to New Mexico! They have chickens running in the streets and the water is bad! I persisted.

Sometimes I fell. You want to be a composer? Well, I suppose you could write commercial jingles for a living.  I dropped my music major. You want to be a writer? Scientific papers are a way to write! I put away my typewriter. Music is a fine hobby. I put away my guitar.

I journeyed using the back roads, seeking out quiet places to stretch my wings. Be my mother! I'm a mother to my two children; everyone else can have me as a friend, a partner, or adopt me as an eccentric aunt. A tenure-track academic position is your only choice if you go into experimental psychology. I chose a career of self-employment in consulting and the occasional lectureship. Established public or private schools are the only way to educate children. I chose to homeschool my children when the system wasn't meeting their needs.

I stand at the edge of the cliff, contemplating the beautiful mountains on the far side of the valley. It was a long, winding journey to reach this height. Along the way, I picked up my guitar and found a fiddle; learned to use a computer for word processing and slowly began to tell stories again. I tuned out the voices that try to define me, define success for me. I listen to the wind, to the whispers of friends, my husband (lover, life-partner extrodinaire) and chosen family. I hear my muse call to me. Tell the stories you hear on the wind, you see in the valley, you feel in your heart.

I spread my wings and step off the cliff. I fly. Maybe I'll reach those mountains. Maybe I won't. But it will be one hell of a journey.



*title is a line from Patrick Wolf's The Libertine. Go listen to it now!w

What do you get the Fey who has everything, at least when it comes to body modification? http://urbanfey.net

Vultures are kinda dorky. http://urbanfey.net

Now who is that tree talking to, I wonder? http://urbanfey.net