O, beloved: O, best loved Blanchefleur!
Now I lay me down upon the green earth
Of my own land, which I held best of all—
Till now, when ’tis the worst to me, for now
Upon my rising I’ll not see the face
And smile of my beloved Blanchefleur.
Nor shall I till the years have passed us by!
What purpose has the Lord to keep me here,
And she still there, yet separate and distinct
When we feel nearly one—in spirit, soul,
If not yet in our, frailer, mortal flesh?

This is another—internal-chronologically, possibly the last—poem in my series of poems set in the Arthurian legends (see that link for a slightly more detailed explanation). The speaker is in fact relinquishing the name—the identity—of Taliesin, according to the story which shall be told in my planned novel Sunshine Civil War. In order of composition (“Doylist” chronology), this is one of the later poems in the series, but was written several years ago, and I have no way of dating it any more precisely than that.

I always welcome your comments, critique, suggestions, or any other feedback on this poem or any other part of my work. (In other words, if you like it, if you don’t like it, if something “works”, if something “doesn’t work”, if it makes you think of something or someone, etc., please comment and say so!) If you like this, you can follow this blog, which includes one of my poems every Friday; you can also read other poems I’ve written here on my blog (or if that list is too intimidating, I’m posting more manageable subsets each week, such as yesterday’s archive installment, so you can just start with those). I’d particularly like to know which poems you think are my best.

This poem is also mirrored as a Google Doc and on WEbook.

• On Falling in Love
• Approaching Harvest
• “Lend me those years”

Again, please comment and tell me which poem or poems of these you liked best, and if possible why. And any other comments you care to give.

One of the main projects I intend to attempt in the near future is a somewhat detailed outline of the story that was originally titled “A Murder, a Mystery, and a Marriage” (which I serialized here two years ago); a cursory look, as the first step in a more thorough revision, revealed that I left all sorts of loose threads, details that get mentioned early on as if important but never used again, and a lot of the important points of the ending aren’t properly foreshadowed.

I also hope to finally finish my projection of our universe’s future history, which has been “blocking” me for a long time, so I can get on to the next (less knotty) items in my task queue.

We can divide fan-fiction authors into at least five (significantly overlapping!) groups, based on their reason for writing it.

For some authors, fan fiction is a stage in their development. They can gain experience writing in someone else’s world, about someone else’s characters, then move on to fully original fiction. This is similar to the stage of “wish-fulfillment fantasy” many would-be authors go through. Most of this isn’t much worth reading, any more than anyone else’s first efforts (like stories written for grade-school assignments), but for those so inclined it is invaluable practice. (“How do you get to Carnegie Hall?”)

There are others, who (like me) write because they have stories come to them, but for whom the stories that come are set in worlds and feature characters whom they did not themselves invent. Some ideas are so insistent that they have to be written—in the community these are sometimes called “plot bunnies.” (Possibly because they sometimes seem to breed like rabbits?)

For a third group of authors, fan fiction is a form of transformational criticism. (Personally, I’ve seen more of this in the Bujold fandom than any other, which is not surprising given the significant (especially given her genre) amount of “traditional” critical work spawned by her novels over the last few years.) These authors, of all the groups I’ve identified, are the most likely to produce consistently high-quality fiction.

A fourth group are those who, as readers, voraciously desire more—or different—stories than the “canon” contains, and so meet this desire by writing the stories themselves. This happens in fandoms where the “canon” is finished (Jane Austen will never write a sequel to Pride and Prejudice, for example), where the author writes too slowly for the fans’ impatience (the Harry Potter fandom, before the seventh novel was released, for instance, or the Wheel of Time fandom now), or where the author simply leaves an opening for a possible tangent and doesn’t follow it. Sometimes, in fandoms whose “canon” has passed into the public domain, these stories are even published.

Lastly, some readers take it upon themselves to fix what they see as the author’s mistakes. Literature is, after all, a collaboration between writer and reader, and some writers don’t hold up their end of the (implicit) bargain. (I recommend Bujold’s essay “The Unsung Collaborator”, published in Dreamweaver’s Dillemma.) If an author (for example) creates a world that fires the imagination, and fills it with compelling characters, but then turns the story in directions that do not make any sense in the slightest … who can blame a reader for writing the story that she should have written in the first place? In my opinion, this explains why there is so much Harry Potter fan fiction on the Internet, far more than the size of its fandom as a whole warrants.

Fan fiction written as “practice” fiction probably should not be distributed beyond a few friends, teachers, and family, for the sake of any potential readers (there’s far too much content of dismal quality on the Internet already!), though on the other hand wider distribution may lead to faster improvement of the author’s writing because more readers give feedback. Muse-led (or “plot bunny”) fan fiction need not be distributed, and given Sturgeon’s Law combined with the low cost of “publishing” on the Internet I’m sympathetic to authors’ desire to control or prevent its wide availability and distribution.

I’m less sympathetic to any suppression of the other three groups. Transofmational criticism, like the more traditional kinds of criticism, cannot (if done well) but enhance the fandom. Stories written because of the desire for “more, more more! Now, now, now!” are a reasonable solution to that problem, and suppressing them is likely to make the readers lose patience altogether and move on to some other fandom instead of waiting for the next canonical installment—it is not a good business practice to turn down free publicity. And in the last category … an author who drives her readers to fan-fiction by producing inspiring but in one respect abysmal fiction has lost all my sympathy, particularly if those frustrated readers produce fan fiction that is better than the original.

As midnight passes by without a sound
And stars, I’m sure, wheel past above the clouds,
How long shall I lie, shivering, awake,
With only my regrets for company?
Why can I scarcely find the words to pray?
And when shall rest at last o’ertake my limbs?

I wrote this about two months ago—as winter was beginning in earnest. I intended to write more, to bring it to a conclusion or at least to a more settled feeling, but after some reflection I think it perhaps works as it stands, and so decided to post it today.

As always, I earnestly welcome your comments, suggestions, questions, critique, or other feedback about this or any other part of my work. (In other words, if you liked this poem, or you didn’t like it, or it made you think of something, or … please leave a comment to let me know.) If you liked this, you can also read other poems I’ve written here on my blog (starting with yesterday’s archive installment, since the full archive is by now, at over a hundred poems, somewhat daunting); I’d especially like to know which poems you think are my best.

This poem is also mirrored on WEbook and Google Docs.

• “How dim the faces”
• “My dear love hath”
• A New Thing

Again, please comment and tell me which poem or poems of these you liked best, and if possible why. And any other comments you care to give.

Player Name	Date	Unit	Attempted Action	Result of Action
Theodore Roosevelt	2/16/01	Rabble 1 & 2	Search for secret passage. (About 9 1/2 mi NNE, quickly. Ed.) When it is found, move along it to the mainland (ESE, about 177 1/2 mi, quickly. Ed.), passing word back to HQ.	Moved correctly until tunnel found (about 1 1/4 hrs) and marked it (coord. (444, 300)). Moved out of step for 1 3/4 hrs (14 mi). Bogged down. Bogged down. Moved out of step for 2 hrs (16 mi). Bogged down. Bogged down. Bogged down. Bogged down. Moved correctly for 2 hrs (16 mi). Moved out of step for 2 hrs (16 mi). Moved out of step for 2 hrs (16 mi). Bogged down. Bogged down. Moved correctly for 1 hr (8 mi). Bogged down. Bogged down. Bogged down. Bogged down. Total distance in tunnel: 102 mi.

Theodore Roosevelt ended up on a small island; the original map (before I turned it into tiles) called for a tunnel between it and the mainland. I was unreasonably generous here and, when he ordered his men to “search for” the tunnel, they went right to it and followed it.

Papè	2/16/01	None	NoneNone. He is currently building a Rabble with 1 turn to go.
Hannibal	2/16/01	None	None.	None. He is currently building a Rabble with 1 turn to go.
Panzier	2/16/01	None	None	None. He is currently building a Rabble with 1 turn to go.
Edward Campau	2/16/01	None	None	None. He is currently building a Rabble with 1 turn to go.
Pywll pen Annwn	2/16/01	None	None	None. He is currently building a Rabble with 1 turn to go.
Arthur Wellesley, Duke Wellington	2/16/01	None.	None	None. Currently building Rabble, 1 turn remaining.
Lucius Sergius Catalina	2/16/01	None	None.	None.
Julius Ceasar	2/16/01	None	None	None. Currently building Rabble, 1 turn remaining.
Marcus Tullius Cicero	2/16/01	None	None	None. Currently building Rabble, 1 turn remaining.

That rounded up the remaining unresponsive and “AI” players (who existed, at that point, to provide sitting targets for the human players …). A couple of these also contained notations that the players hadn’t responded at all, and would be evicted from the game if they didn’t respond within a couple more days. I don’t remember whether I went through with that or not.

Xenophon	2/16/01	Rabble 2 & Catapult 2	Move S and camp (Rabble quickly, to keep up with the Catapult. Ed.)	Bogged down. Move out of step for 2 hrs (28 mi). Move out of step for 2 hrs (28 mi). Move correctly for 2 hrs (28 mi). Bogged down. Bogged down. Moved correctly for 2 hrs (28 mi). Moved correctly for 2 hrs (28 mi). Bogged down. Bogged down. Moved correctly 2 hrs (28 mi). Bogged down. Moved correctly for 1 hr (14 mi). Total distance: 182 mi S.
Xenophon	2/16/01	Legion 2	Fortify, begin production of Mounted Longbowmen.	3 tns remaining.

This was, I believe, the first—and perhaps the only—player in that campaign to create a second fortress to improve army production speed. (Building fortresses is no longer anywhere near that simple …)

Xenophon

2/16/01

Crossbow 1

Continue curve, mapping. (NW).

Moved correctly for 1/2 hr N (7 mi), 1/2 hr W (7 mi). Bogged down. Moved correctly 1/2 hr N (7 mi), 1/2 hr W (7 mi). Bogged down. Moved out of step for 1/2 hr N (7 mi), 1/2 hr W (7 mi). Moved out of step for 1/2 hr N (7 mi), 1/2 hr W (7 mi). Moved correctly for 1/2 hr N (7 mi), 1/2 hr W (7 mi). Bogged down. Moved out of step for 1/2 hr W (7 mi). Moved correctly 1/2 hr N (7 mi), 1/2 hr W (7 mi). Moved out of step for 1/2 hr N (7 mi), 1/2 hr W (7 mi). Bogged down. Moved out of step for 1/2 hr N (7 mi), 1/2 hr W (7 mi). Bogged down. Moved correctly for 1/2 hr N (7 mi), 1/2 hr W (7 mi). Moved out of step for 1/2 hr N (7 mi), 1/2 hr W (7 mi). Moved correctly for 1/2 hr N (7 mi), 1/2 hr W (7 mi). Bogged down.While resting, set upon by Robert E. Lee’s Rabble 1. Fired and missed. A string broke. Malfunctioned. Charged upon.

And (I think …) our first combat! (You’ll see the other side of this in next month’s log installment.) If I recall correctly, these two units were actually not anywhere really near each other, but my severely suboptimal tools situation led me to believe they had encountered each other, resulting in this situation. (Also note that in the current campaign, combat is no longer the default action on first contact …)

Xenophon	2/16/01	Crossbow 2	Move toward Fortification (ESE).	Bogged down. Moved correctly 1/2 hr S (7 mi), 1 hr E (14 mi). Moved correctly 1/2 hr S (7 mi), 1 hr E (14 mi). Moved correctly 1/2 hr S (7 mi), 1 hr E (14 mi). Moved correctly 1/2 hr S (7 mi), 1 hr E (14 mi). Moved correctly E 2 hrs (28 mi). Bogged down. Moved correctly E 2 hrs (28 mi). Moved the rest of the way to the fortification (1/4 hr, 3 1/2 mi.) Rested.
Xenophon	2/16/01	Catapult 1	Move toward the Fortification (135 mi NE), fortify.	Bogged down. Moved correctly 2 hrs (20 mi). Moved out of step 2 hrs (20 mi). Moved correctly 2 hrs (20 mi). Bogged down. Bogged down. Bogged down. Moved out of step 2 hrs (20 mi). Moved correctly 2 hrs (20 mi). Moved correctly 2 hrs (20 mi). Moved correctly 1 hr (10 mi). Bogged down. Total 130 mi NE, 5 mi away.

Xenophon certainly had a clear idea of what he wanted; I don’t think any other player gave such detailed orders. This probably would have paid off had I been using tools like the map viewer I use now, but with the tools I had then I was as likely to misplace a unit as to put it where the player wanted.

And that, I think, is enough for today. More next month; we’ll probably finish the February 16, 2001 turn.

The Sigyni’s world has many caves, which are their natural habitat. Like bats in our world, they sleep hanging upside-down in the caves—though they are not as strictly nocturnal as our bats, and can navigate by sonar or by sight. The Sigyni are omnivorous; their diet is primarily fruit, but also insects and small animals. A very few, particularly “bent” individuals have developed a taste for blood.

There is a tree on the Sigyni’s world whose wood is very light, and easily worked, but once left to set hardens into a form very like a lightweight alloy. Between this and the easy availability of some metals in the caves, they achieved a somewhat industrialized society early. And even though they obviously didn’t need it for passenger transportation, they developed aircraft for freight much sooner than might be expected—helped by the planet’s low gravity and the availability of lightweight materials.

After a dozen more generations or so, having adapted various high-altitude plants into portable oxygen generators, and improved their aircraft sufficiently, they began to journey into space. The Sigyni are, as far as anyone knows, the only race to do so without ever developing artificial gravity—the design of their bodies made them as at home without gravity as with it. Once in space, they flourished in low- and no-gravity environments, and after encountering other inhabited planets they began to specialize in interplanetary and interstellar trade.

The Sigyni have two languages. The first is a subtle sign language formed using gestures of their hands and tails; the second modulates their sonar to convey the information. Additionally, while it sounds decidedly awkward, their vocal chords can be made to produce human languages, so they prefer to conduct business in the languages of their trading partners.

What do you think? Any comments or questions?

A couple of years ago, I had the strange problem that my laptop’s connection to the local wireless network would (more or less reliably) disconnect at about ten o’clock each evening and refuse to reconnect until about nine the following morning. This grew annoying, but until I discovered and worked around the cause (and then bought a new laptop), I was (for me) tremendously productive—if not quite as productive as I was back before I had a regular Internet connection.

And many years ago, back when I was first starting to use Linux, I remember seeing a program that claimed to force a user to take regular breaks (to prevent repetitive strain injuries) by locking the console, then temporarily changing his password to a random new one, and only reverting that when the mandatory break was over.

As I was hoping to make keeping a better schedule a goal for this new year, I hoped to adapt that break-reminder program to enforce a curfew on myself, while not damaging any background tasks I might want to leave running—but then I couldn’t find it, and the program I thought it was didn’t use such harsh measures.

So: Here’s a program that should exist, but apparently doesn’t yet: a curfew enforcer. It would lock all of a user’s sessions (and the console entirely if the user is logged in at a virtual terminal) at a specified time, then save change the user’s password (hash) and change it to a new, random password until a specified duration has elapsed. (For safety reasons, I’d want it to restore the user’s password on the next boot even if the specified time hasn’t finished.) It should run on modern Linux systems (of course), but a cross-platform application would be still better.

Do you know of such a program? Or do you have any ideas for how I might go about writing one?

Dreams carry me away (too late) each night,
Then hold me in my bed each shining morn.
Now, once, as I recall, I did not dream—
Or if I did, dreams faded ere I woke.
Oh, how I longed for visions and for dreams—
And then my prayer was granted, and I dreamed,
And when I could recall them, wrote them down,
In hope or fear of some significance.
But now such nightly dreams are commonplace,
And—even nightmares—hold me in my bed
Far longer than I there ought to remain.
God give me strength! to rise and stand each day,
And, rather than, blinking, remain abed
To seek a too-real, quickly fading dream,
Instead, to set myself upon the work
I see before me—more and more each day.

I wrote this a few months ago, after coming to a realization of the phenomenon the poem describes.

I always welcome your comments, critique, suggestions (perhaps of a proper title for this poem?), or any other feedback on this poem or any other part of my work. (In other words, if you like it, if you don’t like it, if something “works”, if something “doesn’t work”, if it makes you think of something or someone, etc., please comment and say so!) If you like this, you can follow this blog, which includes one of my poems every Friday; you can also read other poems I’ve written here on my blog (or if that list is too intimidating, I’m posting more manageable subsets each week, such as yesterday’s installment, so you can just start with those). I’d particularly like to know which poems you think are my best.

This poem is also mirrored on Google Docs and WEbook.