Cassandra

Tales!

My second book is officially available on Amazon, in Kindle format or in print! Tales is the sequel to An Unexpected Journey, but it has a different set of characters in a separate location, so you can read it before the first book, so long as you read them both before book 3. (We don’t have a time frame for the release of that one, sorry, I’ll try not to wait another five years though.)

There are a lot of people who went into making this possible: Cheshire Moon, whose song inspired Mom’s idea which inspired this story, Mom, who was also my editor, and Donna, my amazing artist, who served on my beta team with two of my cousins and my best friend. And, of course, all of the people who have kept encouraging me to write over the years. Thanks, all!

The Dust Bowl

The “Dust Bowl” is a term used both to describe the drought and dust storms of the 1930’s, and the Great Plains area in which it occurred. While the drought itself was an unavoidable natural disaster, its effects were greatly exacerbated by human activities, namely irresponsible agricultural practices.

This is clear in the Dust Bowl’s conditions. After all, as awful as a decade-long series of droughts and high winds might be, it doesn’t account for the “black blizzards,” as they were called, storms that picked up Great Plains topsoil and carried it as far as New York. Dust storms, it’s true, were and are a thing, but never to this magnitude. That’s because, among other things, there’s just not enough loose topsoil to throw around. It’s estimated that as many as three million tons of topsoil blew off of the Great Plains during the infamous “Black Sunday” storm, and that was only one occurence.

So why was there so much topsoil? That’s where human error and farming practices come into play. You see, one of the benefits of the native grasses that grew in the Plains is that they had deep roots that held the soil in place. But when settlers came and cultivated the land, they dug up those grasses in favor of other crops, like wheat. Increased demand for those other crops during World War I encouraged farmers to plow more land that had once been grassland, so that they could plant more, and when the prices for the crops they now had surpluses of dropped again, they plowed even more so that they could plant enough to make a profit. As a result, when the droughts hit and the crops died, there were no native grasses to stop the soil from blowing away.

At some point, all of the best farmland was in use, and when the farmers kept on cultivating land, they had to move to poorer growing space. Unfortunately, “farming submarginal lands often had negative results, such as soil erosion and nutrient leaching.” (National Drought Mitigation Center) Other practices, such as using the new one-way disc plow, which increased the risk of blowing soil, and the abandonment of soil conservation measures in the interest of saving time and money, also greatly contributed to the environmental damage done prior to the droughts of the Dust Bowl. This damage, in turn, provided the means — that is to say, the dry, nutrient-depleted, loose dirt in abundance — for the catastrophic effects of what would otherwise have been little more than a severe dry spell.

The Joy of Writing

One of the best things about writing is something that’s also great about reading. It’s falling in love with the characters. You know, you meet them, at the beginning, and you only have some idea of where it’s going to go from there, and then you get to watch and cheer them on as they grow and develop as people. You get drawn to the nuances of them, the quirks, the little details of their personality, and even though every well-written character has flaws, you learn to love those too.

As a writer, you get to experience an enhanced version of that same emotion; that same experience of falling in love with the character, except this time it’s your character. And what’s so beautiful about that is they say we don’t *make* characters so much as we take parts of ourselves and give them names. So you’re not just falling in love with a character — you’re falling in love with yourself.

That’s such a big deal because we hold ourselves to impossibly higher standards than we hold everyone else to. But when I take my own traits — and their corresponding flaws — and treat them like they’re not mine they’re suddenly so much less of a problem. That’s also the jump between reading the character and writing them — there’s a definite and profound difference in, “I identify with this trait and corresponding flaw in someone else’s character, who I love,” and, “I love this piece of my soul that I have named, now that it has a name.”

Big Mistake — the War Guilt Clause

The Treaty of Versailles was signed on June 28, 1919, bringing an official end to the conflict between Germany and the Allies. Unfortunately, by forcing Germany to shoulder most, if not all, of the blame for the war, the War Guilt Clause (Article 231) placed a heavy burden upon the German people. The Treaty of Versailles had the opportunity to be a new beginning for all involved parties, regardless of where they stood during the war, and instead was used as the means by which the Allied Powers exacted revenge on Germany. This compulsion to act out of anger and selfishness, not compassion and mutual beneficialism, became a direct cause of another conflict only twenty years down the road.

The treaty was supposed to be a step towards a lasting peace, at least according to U.S. President Woodrow Wilson. His plans “called for an immediate end to the war, the establishment of an international peacekeeping organization, international disarmament, open diplomacy, the explicit disavowal of war, and independence for formerly colonial territories.” (Khan Academy) This, though I cannot speak to how well or for how long it would have worked, would have been, at the very least, an attempt to pick themselves up, put the past behind them, and work together for a better future.

Britain and France did not approve of this approach. There were multiple reasons for this, but the foremost was that they were angry. Where America had been fighting “Over There” (song composed by George M. Cohan in 1917) and for less than a year, the French and British had been fighting close to home, if not in their own territory, for four years. They had lost men, supplies, buildings, and land, and they wanted Germany to pay for it. Germany was forced to give up its territories, drastically downsize its military, and, quite literally, pay the expenses. The total bill of reparations came out to a whopping $60 billion dollars, what would be over $760 billion today. A decade later this sum would be reduced to something slightly more reasonable, $30 billion dollars, but the damage was already done.

With reparations to pay and not nearly enough money to pay them with, the German government, then changed to the Weimar Republic, started printing deutschmarks (their currency at the time). Unfortunately, this had a reverse effect as the nation went into a state of hyperinflation and the value of the deutschmark plummeted, bringing the Weimar economy with it. To quote the History.com article on the Weimar Republic, “An underground bartering economy was established to help people meet their basic needs.” That alone should indicate how bad things were.

Regardless of Germany’s past actions, this should have been the point where the international community stepped in and did something to help. There is no excuse for willfully neglecting the welfare of an entire civilian population, yet the Allies did so for a whole generation. Even when they did act — which, admittedly, they did — their focus was on the reparations and resuming the payments, not on the suffering of the German people.

Between their loss in the war, their economic collapse, and the seeming indifference of their neighbors to their suffering, it should not be surprising that in their anger and desperation the German people turned to extremism, looking for new leadership and a semblance of hope. As Sarah Pruitt wrote, “Due to lasting resentment of the Versailles Treaty, the National Socialist (Nazi) Party and other radical right-wing parties were able to gain support… by promising to overturn its harsh provisions and make Germany into a major European power once again.”

As I hope I have made clear, the Treaty of Versailles, by its focus on revenge rather than rationality, was a direct cause of both Hitler’s rise to power and the Second World War, and while the treaty itself was necessary, many of its contents, particularly Article 231, the War Guilt Clause, were inevitably detrimental to not only Germany, but the whole of the international community.

Welcome to Jumanji!… Fluxx!

Yep, another Fluxx. Specifically, the Fluxx that ended up in my Christmas stocking this year. (As well as a Doctor Who Fluxx 13th Doctor expansion pack, but that’s sidelining…) Don’t worry, there’ll be no spoilers here for the Jumanji films; I haven’t even seen the new one yet. More importantly, I’m not actually focusing on the plot, because, well… this is Fluxx. Plot? What plot? We make our own plots here, thank you very much.

Anyways, I’m not really here to talk about Fluxx, or the new Keepers and Goals for this version of it, as I am to talk about what’s new and different about the game mechanics in this version. I mean, sure, there are some interesting new cards — I definitely don’t recall having seen “Let’s Keep Doing That” as a New Rule before — but that’s not really big news.

The really big news is that there are Danger cards — cards with a yellow and black border that allow players to be “eliminated.” Elimination is both more and less drastic than it sounds — you lose all your cards, both your Keepers and the ones in hand, but after everyone else has taken a turn, you draw a hand of three cards and play from there. So you’re not out, you’re just kind of… starting over. The conditions for these danger cards are usually based around Keepers, like saying, “If a player has Albino Rhinos in front of them, that player is eliminated.” I may or may not have used a whole slew of Danger cards on Mom. What can I say? I grew up on Munchkin.

There are also optional Meta Rules, which we didn’t play with this time around, but as I understand it there are two of them. The first, if used, gets placed next to the Basic Rules in the middle, and indicates that you must shout “Jumanji” when you win the game. The second, “No More Lives,” gets placed at the bottom of the deck, and once it comes up it, elimination is permanent.

I should also probably mention that, like “The Doctor” and “Companions” in Doctor Who Fluxx, Jumanji Fluxx has certain cards marked as “Adventurers” and “Animals,” which for certain card mechanics are interchangeable amongst themselves.

Slither.io

Yep, another .io game. What can I say? They’re addictive. (See my post on Narwhale here.) I’m not entirely sure what to call this one; when I was introduced to it we all called it Slitherio, with various pronunciations thereof, but for the sake of consistency I’ll just call it Slither.

Slither is a slightly less obvious name than Narwhale, but only just so. You are, likely unsurprisingly, snakes. In Slither, the goal isn’t so much to kill as it is to grow, and killing happens to be a convenient way to achieve that goal. To grow, you “eat” glowing dots, by which I mean the snake follows your mouse cursor and if it runs over a dot the dot disappears and your snake gets longer.

You can loop back over yourself just fine, allowing maneuverability accurate to snakes, but if you run into someone else, you die. When a snake dies, they fade into a large pile of super bright glowing dots, which are worth more than the random ones lying around. This is why a lot of players (not including myself) go on the offensive: killing other snakes is the fastest way to grow. Of course, it’s also dangerous, because there is the possibility that while trying to get them to run into you, you ram into them. That’s how I usually get kills; some overzealous little snake tries to corner me and self-destructs. And, I mean, you don’t just leave that perfectly good pile of points lying around, you know?

There is a trick that is, I’ve found, largely only useful to the offensive players, and that’s speeding up. When you left-click and hold, you go at an enhanced rate of speed, allowing you to dart in front of someone or, on the rare occasion I use it, to get out of a coil before it forms. A coil is a trick larger snakes use involving trapping a small snake entirely in a full circle and slowly closing the circle until the snake inside, who has no choice but to keep doing loops inside and will, if the maneuver is executed right, eventually have no room and run into the larger snake, at which point there’s a nice, concentrated pile of super-glowies (yes, I just made that up) that nobody else can get to. Anyhow, back to darting — darting has a price. When you do it, you leave a trail of small glowing dots behind you, which are subtracted from your body mass. Basically, if you’re going to use this move, make sure that what you’re darting for is worth more than the energy you lose to get there.

There are a couple of other things, like being able to choose your skin on the main screen, and the leaderboard in the top left corner, but those aren’t really important. I do suggest paying attention to the mini map in the bottom left corner if you’re having trouble finding enough stray glowing dots. It illustrates the map, where you are, and where the dots are concentrated, which is almost always the center.

Best of luck!

Space Junk

Yes, this is a paper on space debris. No, the research is not mine, the writing is. Effectively, I was given a project on transitions with a bunch of bullet points and I had to connect it all into something coherent with enough flow to not scramble brains. I won’t show you what the original material looked like, but I promise the finished product is a lot better. And hey, it’s kind of an interesting topic, so here it is.

There is a lot of space debris floating around the earth. In fact, experts are monitoring about 200,000 pieces of the orbiting space junk, and they believe that there are more than a million out there. This space “junk” consists of burned-out rocket parts, pieces of spacecraft, and parts of defunct communication and weather satellites, the combination of which certainly makes the million-piece estimate feasible.
While some of these pieces break orbit and enter the atmosphere, not many of them actually make it all the way to the ground. Some have, but most of them landed in the oceans or in remote areas of the earth. While a few people have been hit by space debris, it’s an incredibly rare occurrence, and therefore not a significant cause for concern.
What is a significant cause for concern is the damage that space debris can do — in space. There is a very serious risk that orbiting satellites and spacecraft could be hit by space debris, and this could badly damage the functional equipment. One of the more important — and more concerning — orbiting objects at risk is the International Space Station, as both a large piece of equipment and one with people in it.
There’s only so much that we can do to avoid these collisions, but we are trying. If sensitive satellites or spacecraft are on a collision course with space debris, engineers try to maneuver them so they can avoid impact. Possibly more importantly, experts are devising guidelines for those launching new space vehicles, like using orbits that avoid existing space debris. These guidelines would also make those launching new spacecraft responsible for safely disposing of their equipment after the completion of their missions, hopefully decreasing the accumulation of space debris and making space a little bit safer.

Adventures In Egypt

This post is a sort of follow-up to last week’s announcement about Curious Critters’ Coadventure. This is an example story I wrote to illustrate what one of our stories might look like. Enjoy.

“Where are we off to now, Faith?” Luis asked, his big blue eyes sparkling with excitement.

“Well, I’d like to go to Southern Egypt, if you don’t mind,” she replied. “My friend Joel – he’s a gopher – is working on an archeology dig there, and I can only imagine what incredible discoveries could be under the sand!”

“It sounds wonderful!” he agreed amiably. “But… will Egypt be too dry for you? You are a sea lion, after all.”

“Oh, yes, that might be a bit of a problem, you’re quite right, but think of the adventure! The amazing things we might learn!”

“If you’re alright with it, I am. I’ll go get our stuff!” He hurried off on his short hedgehog legs, full of enthusiasm.

They arrived in Luxor, Egypt, a day later, and Luis cheerfully bounced through Immigration and Customs, dragging along a bored Faith on a scooter board. “Come on, Faith, you love to travel!”

“Yes, of course I do, there’s so much to learn in new places,” she sighed impatiently, “But I don’t like the travel itself! Long lines and cramped flights… and heaven knows those airplane seats aren’t designed for anyone who isn’t bipedal, or at best quadrupedal.”

“Well, I don’t suppose many of their passengers are aquatic, seeing as there’s a shortage of water on the planes.” He paused to thank the security agent before continuing. “They do have boats that tend to suit better. Oh, wouldn’t that have been lovely? A cruise across the Atlantic!”

“Yes, yes, I know that they have boats, but those take so much more time! Why would I take eight or nine days to get somewhere exciting when I could only take one?”

“Well, I suppose that depends on whether you care about how you get somewhere as much as being there. It’s a philosophical difference, really. See, I find the journey to be fun and interesting, so I don’t mind if it takes so long.”

“You find everything fun and interesting,” she pointed out. She gestured exasperatedly at their surroundings. “You’re probably finding this fun, too!”

He looked taken aback, nearly indignant – nearly – as he replied. “Of course I am! What’s not to like? There are so many interesting people! Did you look at that security agent, Faith? He was blue! Can you honestly tell me you’ve ever seen a blue cat before?”

“No, but that’s not the point! This is airport security, Luis! It’s not supposed to be fun!” She had been about to carry on with a number of things that were fun, like archeology digs, biology hikes, museums and the like, but she was cut off by a snort from behind her.

The snort had come from a white rabbit, about Luis’s height, hauling a black suitcase. She was shaking her head at either the absurdity or the obviousness of the statement, or perhaps a combination of the two. When she realized that the others were watching her, she smiled wryly. “‘M sorry, I just didn’t think that was something that needed to be said.”

There was a bit of a challenge in the statement, and undertone of ‘I dare you to disagree with me,’ but if Luis noticed, he ignored it altogether. “It’s a point of contention with us. Well, not this specifically, usually, but the general idea of- I’m rambling, aren’t I?” She watched in amusement as his smile turned sheepish. “Sorry about that. I’m aware I have the unpopular opinion on the matter, but I hold to it.”

“He can’t help it,” Faith commented, “He finds the best in everything.”

“I’m getting that impression.”

“Speaking of wonderful things, your accent is lovely. May I ask where you’re from?” Luis asked earnestly.

“Edinburgh, Scotland.”

“Ooh,” he hummed appreciatively, “I haven’t been to Scotland in ages. Have you been, Faith?”

“No, not yet. It’s on my list, though. Plenty of things about Celtic culture to learn.” She paused, then barked once in laughter. “Which is an excellent example of more entertaining things to do than going through Immigration and Customs.”

“Yes, it probably is, but just because that’s more interesting doesn’t mean that this can’t be!” He turned to the rabbit. “I’m sorry, we haven’t introduced ourselves yet. I’m Luis, and this is Faith.”

He stuck out a mittened paw to shake, and she took it. “Mame. You’ve come from somewhere cold, I take it?” He wasn’t just wearing mittens, but also boots, a scarf, and earmuffs. He looked like he might be on a trip to Greenland instead of Egypt.

“Er, yes, we just flew in from Wisconsin. But the clothes aren’t really for location. I’m just always cold. I’d probably be hibernating if we had stayed back home — it’s rather cold this week — but Faith asked if we could go to Egypt, and it’s not quite so bad here.”

“Tourists?”

“Yep!” Luis said, and Faith was quick to clarify.

“My friend is running an archeology dig, and he thought we might like to have a look.” Mame looked at her for a moment, then laughed. “What is it?”

“‘An archeology dig.’ Small world, in’it?” the Scot mused, steering them towards the exit. “We’re here for the same dig. I suppose I should have realized you were the gopher’s sea lion when I saw you, seeing as not many pinnipeds would be flying, and to Egypt of all dry places to go. You must be as curious as he–”–she jerked her head at Luis–“is cheerful, to be here.”

“That sounds about right,” the hedgehog in question replied with a smile. “She’s a real explorer, Faith.”

“You two got a ride?” Mame asked as they stepped outside.

“We were just going to hail a cab.”

“Ah, no, that won’t do. It’s nearly a two hour drive and the dig’s in the middle of nowhere. Best you ride with me, then. I rented a car. C’mon.”

Faith certainly learned something on that trip– never let the rabbit drive.

Cars and seat belts are a few more things that were never properly adapted for species without legs, and that was a more significant oversight than something like airplanes, which most self-respecting marine creatures avoided anyhow. Normally, the challenge of buckling into a car seat was manageable for Faith; she just buckled in sideways. Normally, the car was not going at Autobahn speeds with a driver too short to see over the steering wheel, and Faith found herself glad that Mame was ignoring the standardly sensible phones-while-driving bans as well as the speed limit. And for the fact that there were no other cars on the road. Had there been either other tourists or no cell connection for the digital mapping system, they probably would have crashed.

Faith was relieved –and more than a bit surprised– to find them all in one piece on arrival. It hadn’t been a silent trip, but seeing as Mame was mostly laughing excitedly and barely making turns, she wasn’t really available for conversation. Luis had been pointing out nice things about where they were, mostly different observations about the sand, but Faith had been too busy muttering prayers in both English and Spanish to respond.

Apparently, “two hour drive” was only for sensible drivers, because they got there in less than half of one. Faith was pretty sure that she’d have preferred the long trip, though she chose not to vocalize the thought. Luis undid his own seat belt in the front passenger seat, thanked Mame for the ride in his annoyingly cheerful demeanor, and then moved to the back to help Faith unlatch hers.

“Well, we made good time. Are you excited to see the dig?”

“Are you crazy?” she asked, slapping her tail on the seat in distress. “I like the speed of airplanes. I also like not feeling the speed of the airplane! How can you be so calm about this?”

He shrugged. “The breeze was nice.” Oh, yes, that was another terrifying feature of their ride: the windows were fully open the whole time. All of them. Faith thanked God there wasn’t a sunroof, or that probably would have been open too.

Still, she was excited to be at the dig site, and she slid out of the car onto her scooter board without further complaint. “Dig’s right over there,” Mame said, pointing towards a taped off area, much of it lower than the surrounding ground. There was some inactive construction equipment, but there was something missing…

“Where is everyone?” Faith asked.

“I don’t know. Maybe they’re under.”

“That’d be good, wouldn’t it? That means they found something, right? You won’t have to wait while they dig, Faith!”

They moved around to the other side, just outside the taped square. Sure enough, there were stairs in a stone tunnel, like a rocky mouth to swallow any who stepped on it. “That’s not good,” Mame muttered.

“Why not?” Luis asked curiously. “They found something.”

“Yes, but why is there nobody up here? They wouldn’t all go into the crypt, would they?”

The others paused. That was a good point, and an unease settled about them. “Will we?” Faith asked quietly.

“I’ll go,” Luis piped up confidently. “I’m sure they’ve just found something dreadfully exciting, and they wanted to show the others.”

Faith sighed. Bless his heart, curse his head. “I’ll go too. I wanted to see an archeology dig, and I’ll be seeing archeology.”

“Well, there’s no way I’m letting the two of you down there alone. Impatient Curiosity and Stubborn Positivity? Recipe for disaster. Follow me, and don’t wander off, yeah?”

They each nodded and started down the stairs after her. If you’ve ever seen a scooter board (or other wheeled equivalent) going down stairs, you can imagine the difficulty of safely delivering Faith to the bottom of the steps, but they managed. It was loud enough that Luis was sure someone from the expedition would have heard and come to greet them, but there was no one waiting when the finished their descent.

The lighting in the crypt was ominously lacking, with the only light coming in from the entrance. The air smelled faintly of asphalt, but it was hard to tell. Save for the slight draft from where they’d come in, the air was stale.

They followed the narrow corridor until they came to an intersection. It was four ways, counting retreat. Their path continued into the darkness. There was a branch running further right than they could see as it dimmed with distance, and a left that sharply turned right only a couple feet in. A quiet, rhythmic scratching noise echoed through the halls, but it was impossible to tell where from.

“Which way should we go?” Luis asked, and even he was starting to sound a bit nervous.

Mame indicated the path they were on with her head. “The way we can see, probably. Left’s right out, there’ll be no light there, so it’s either right or forwards. I vote forwards.”

Luis nodded and followed her as she started moving in that direction, but Faith glanced towards the left curiously. “Why would they put in such a sharp turn?” she wondered aloud, “Do these paths run parallel?”

Being both behind by the nature of her transportation, and the only one facing that corridor, she was the first to see it as it rounded the corner. A snarling muzzle coming into view at incredible speeds, followed by the rest of the hyena. Or, at least, what looked like it may have at one point been a hyena. She barked in alarm as it slammed into the wall, using that as momentum to turn towards her. She took in its appearance in the flash instant. Was it a hyena?

It was probably either that or canine, at the very least, but it was hard to tell. The skeletal creature had sticky, matted fur where Faith could see it. The smell of asphalt — bitumen, Faith realized, what the Ancient Egyptians used to embalm mummies — grew sharper, coming from the creature. It had wraps, too, but not well done, more like it had gotten itself tangled in them.

As it leapt towards her, the others turned to see it. “Faith!” Luis cried out, yanking the scooter board towards and past him, and his friend along with it.

She just barely cleared the ferocious pounce, the thing sailing past its mark and hitting the floor with a thud. “We can’t outrun it,” they heard Mame assess, but they weren’t paying so much attention to her words as they were to the horrible, scratching scramble of claws on stone as it returned to its feet and the feral noise that none of them could even begin to characterize.

Back on the hunt, it pounced again, the only warning of its chosen target the trajectory of its jump. Luis, either in a stroke of genius or an act of terror, tore the earmuffs from his head and held them out in front of him, ducking at the same time. The dog’s mouth went just over his head, its mouth catching on the band of the earmuffs and preventing it from immediately dipping its head and biting him.

Mame, who was now standing right next to it, stepped forward and slapped it with her long ears, the sound of contact loud and clear as it echoed through the chambers. With a growl, the animal turned to face her, but it couldn’t attack, still held in place by the makeshift bridle, its reins in the charge of the frightened hedgehog beneath it, holding on like his life depended on it. Which, in all fairness, it may have.

Determining that it couldn’t easily get to the rabbit, it turned to the seemingly defenseless sea lion, but that proved to be an even worse idea. In his haste to protect himself, Luis had dropped the rope for the scooter board, and Faith was left facing mostly away from the fight. Between the thing’s newfound inability to bite and its lack of time to raise a clawed paw, it failed to protect itself from the tail slap to the face, or the ear thwap to its back.

When the thwaps proved unrelenting, and the creature was only getting itself more tangled trying to spin around to face both adversaries, it howled and bolted back the way it came from, moving fast enough to rip the earmuffs out of Luis’ paws.

They all stood in silence for a moment, staring after it, before Mame shook her head. “‘Found something dreadfully exciting,’ indeed.” She sighed. “Come on, let’s get out of here and call the police.”

“You’ll stay in touch?” Luis asked hopefully as he hugged Mame goodbye. They were back at the airport, preparing for their separate departures. They all seemed to have silently agreed to effectively pretend that the dig site had never happened, but he hoped that they’d still be friends.

“Of course,” she replied with a chuckle, “Someone’s got to keep an eye on you. Impatient Curiosity and Stubborn Positivity? Recipe for disaster.”

Luis grinned in response, but it faltered after a moment. “That was…” he remembered when she had last said that.

“As far as I’m concerned, we discussed going into the crypt and then had the fair sense not to. I retain full rights to use that quote.”

“Yeah, that’s fair. Good idea.”

Faith nodded in agreement. “And we’ll try to visit sometime soon. Scotland…” she smiled dreamily, thinking of all the wonderful things she’d get to learn.

“Right, right, daydream of adventures after you’ve got everything checked in and through security and all that,” Mame said gruffly, pushing them towards their airline’s counter so they could check in. But, for what it was worth, she was going to miss them, and she couldn’t wait for them to come visit.

Curious Critters’ Coadventure

Yes, I realize this is a day late for Small Business Saturday, but I post on Sundays. Anyhow, now that registration is up, I get to inform you of the website my mom and I have created: Curious Critters’ Coadventure!

It’s a whole lot of things plush related. First and foremost, we’re a travel agency for plush, which basically means that you can ship us your stuffed animals and we’ll take them fun places in the Midwest. The group’s adventures (yes, group — that’s the “Coadventure” part of it) will be posted to our Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter, and at the end of the trip a more personalized version will be sent to each furry friend’s home, in either digital or print photo book format.

We also do stories, where we work off a write-up of the critters’ personalities to spin a story with them as the main characters, and graphic adventures, where we write a story and then stage the plush in photo positions for it.

Basically, I love stuffed animals and now I get to work with them! I love my job. Even if you don’t purchase a package with us, take a look at our social media and consider following our local adventures!

An Unexpected Journey

Nope, not the Hobbit book. In this case, I’m actually referring to the book that I wrote titled An Unexpected Journey a few years back. I recently realized that I haven’t bothered to talk about it, despite this being an ideal place to do so, so here we are. So… it’s a kids book about an alligator named Cilantro who accidentally ends up going on a quest when he really just means to find a new place to live. Yeah.

You can find out the rest by reading it! It’s really short, 46 pages and it’ll be shorter once I’m done editing out the unnecessary extra line spacing, but, well, it was my first book and I may have made some mistakes. That’s part of the point of this post: to advertise the fact that I am finally going back and fixing spacing, punctuation, I think one or two typos… all the stuff that makes me cringe when I open it up and go, “There should be a comma before that dialogue!” Which means that first edition will be, fingers crossed, going out of print very soon. If you’d like a copy, pick it up before second edition is released! (This may also be a good time to plug the fact that the second book is in the later stages of editing, so you have that to look forward to, too.)

While I’m working on that, I’ll leave you with a snippet of one of the fight scenes. Enjoy!

“What was that?!” Rebecca whispered, “A monster?”
“Shhh! I’m trying to listen!” Allan warned, “I think it’s goblins. Everyone, stand in a circle, back to back.” 
Cilantro noticed a couple of sharp, pointy sticks. “Rebecca!” he whispered, “I’ll grab a stick. Use your horn as a spear.”
“What?! Are you kidding?!” she yelped, “I spend hours polishing and cleaning my horn until it sparkles like freshly fallen snow! I’ll take a stick too, thank you very much!”
Allan looked at them. “Do you guys even know how to fight?” 
Rebecca looked at him, giggled, and said, “Of course! Beat up the bad guy, and don’t get beat up!” 
Suddenly, a goblin pack started dropping from the trees. “Augh!!” Rebecca screamed, while instinctively poking at one with her “spear.” 
Meanwhile, Allan had drawn a sword and was busy slicing goblins with, may I add, great skill. Just then, they heard a shout from Cilantro, signaling that he had been captured. Allan took one look toward Cilantro, chopped off a goblin’s head, and charged toward the goblin holding Cilantro. 
As Allan’s sword made contact with the goblin’s torso, he heard another scream from behind him. As Allan and Cilantro stared, they realized it was the goblin’s scream, not Rebecca’s. “How dare you mess up my hoof polish!” she scolded the goblin, “It took an hour to put on!” That made them laugh hysterically.

Do give it a bit of slack, I’m not adjusting the actual story or the writing style and I was nine when I wrote it, so there’ll be cliches and tropes and so-so sentences that are probably unnecessary, but I’m trying to stay true to my beginnings.

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