Some things aren't really worth the time and energy to make at home when you can just buy them, but vanilla extract isn't one of them. Making it is easy, and you'll get a superior product at home for less money than you'd spend on the same quantities in the grocery store. Here's how it's done.
    
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You: *panicked gulps of breath*
Me: You seem a little wibbly.
You: Oh, I’m wibbly. Super-wibbly. Wibbly to the max.
Me: *looks at calendar* Oh.
You: It’s National Novel Writing month.
Me: I see that. So: you’re writing a novel.
You: *vomits in a shoe*
Me: Definitely writing a novel. Also, that was my shoe.
You: Sorry.
Me: I didn’t like that shoe, anyway. A very hateful shoe. So, what’s the prob?
You: I just — I can’t — baaaaaah. *flails and points at the blank screen*
Me: The empty page.
You: *gasping*
Me: Tabula rasa. The blank page is some terrifying business.
You: It’s scaring the shitkittens right out of me.
Me: Understandably. The white page is all cliff, no bottom. It’s an endless pit. A snowy expanse without a single track to follow — and you’re thinking, if I go stomping my boots into this stuff I’m going to ruin it. It’s pristine, now. Untouched. Infinite possibility. The novel you’ve not written will always be more interesting and more vibrant than the one you do. That novel, the imaginary one, the eternal multiplicative one, is like a flawless fucking diamond.
You: It is. So I shouldn’t write it.
Me: *kicks your shin*
You: Jesus, ow.
Me: I guess it wasn’t the shoes that were hateful. It’s my feet. My violent, angry feet. Anyway: shut up about not writing the novel. What are you, an asshole?
You: Maybe. Probably. You said the unwritten novel was perfect.
Me: It is! In your mind. And you can always go and tell people, Oh, I’m writing a novel, and they’ll mmm and ohhh and they might even look impressed and if that’s all you want — the illusion of writing, the acknowledged potential of writing — hey, fuckin’ great, go on and keep pretending to write that novel. But for my mileage, I’d rather have an imperfect story penned in blood and coaldust than the gleaming perfect unicorn fart that lives inside my head.
You: Unicorn farts live inside your head?
Me: I hate you so bad right now.
You: That’s fair. Okay! Fine, I’ll write it, I’ll write it. You’ve convinced me. If only because I’m afraid you’ll kick me again.
Me: An entirely reasonable fear.
You: I have another fear: the fear I’m not good enough.
Me: Well, so what? What the fuck does ‘good enough’ even mean, anyway?
You: Good enough to get published. Or publish myself. Or be read. OR TO EVEN EXIST AT ALL.
Me: This is a first draft. Calm down, Twitchy McGee. May I suggest you care less about your work? You’re not saving babies, okay? And besides, good enough is a made-up metric. It’s not like there exists some kind of checklist. You’re not the one to judge. The audience will judge. And the only way they get to judge is if you’re willing to write this first draft and then edit the unmerciful sin out of it until it’s as good as you can possibly make it. You need to give them that chance, and that means letting go of this absurd horseshit notion of ‘good enough’ and instead grab hold of a far stronger and more applicable one: are you determined enough? Are you disciplined enough? Are you stubborn-as-a-motherfucker enough? That’s the metric. That’s your measure.
You: Okay. Okay! I can maybe do this. Do I need to write to market?
Me: The only market that matters is you. This is your book. Barf your heart onto the page.
You: Uh, ew. Also: that sounds easier said than done.
Me: It is. But it’s worth doing just the same. Listen: put one word after the other. Approximately 2000 of these a day. Throw in periods and commas where appropriate. Make sentences into paragraphs, paragraphs into chapters. Put characters on the page and in those chapters that interest you. Have them do things that scare you and delight you in equal measure. Commit them to plots and ideas that compel you and that have no easy answers. You’re the first audience. Entertain yourself. Challenge yourself. Let the story lead. Let your own desires for the story lead. Fuck what anybody else thinks right now. This isn’t for them. This is for you. This is a test. This is the Tough Mudder of novel-writing. This is mud and electric shocks and rabid badgers and Sarlacc pits and homeless doomsday preppers with knives made of glass and electrical tape –
You: You’ve never run the Tough Mudder, have you?
Me: No, but I’m pretty sure that visual is accurate.
You: It’s not.
Me: Shut up, Captain Howdy. Daddy’s talking. Listen: anybody can be a writer. No writer wants to admit that — because we want to feel like special precious spacemen who are breathing rarified space air with all our particular and peculiar writernaut training. But writing is a mechanical act. It’s just plonking words down onto a page. Storyteller is more than mechanical — that’s where the art really lives, in the storytelling, but even there, storytelling is an act that’s twisted around our DNA. Everybody tells stories. We tell stories about that guy we saw at the bank, about that car accident, that night at the High School Prom, that time we did that thing with the double-dildos at the shopping mall. Half our lives are remembered as and communicated via story. So this is just that: you utilizing the mechanical act of writing to impart the intuitive act of storytelling.
You: You make it sound so simple.
Me: It isn’t. And it is. And then it isn’t again. Nobody said you’re going to be a good writer. Or a paid or successful writer. But that’s not the point of National Novel Writing Month. It might become that, later on. But for now: it’s the act of doing. The act of commanding dreams down from the ether and staple-gunning them to the fabric of reality. This is you stomping your footprints across the artistic landscape.
You: *stares at the blank page again, vomits*
Me: At least you missed my shoe this time.
You: *wipes chin* I’M SO NOT READY
Me: No, you’re not. I’ve written way too many novels in the last two years alone and I’ve written screenplays and games and short stories and nope, I’m never really ready. Sometimes I think I am. Sometimes I realize I’m not. And it doesn’t matter. Because being really truly ready would ruin the fun. You know how you get ready? How you get good enough? By doing exactly this. By writing. By finishing. By editing. And by going back and doing it all again and again.
You: I’m going to do this.
Me: Yes, you are.
You: I’m going to write a book.
Me: And it will be one of the coolest, weirdest things you’ve ever done.
You: Awesome. I’m gonna go write now.
Me: You wanna make out first?
You: I just threw up.
Me: That’s okay. I brought Altoids.
You: Sure, okay.
Me: *hands you an Altoid*
Unsure of how to confess your love to someone? Try this:
- Acquire several dozen limes.
- Go up to them and then drop all the limes.
- Start picking them up, but keep dropping them. The clumsier you look the better.
- Keep doing this until you have their attention (this could take up to thirty minutes).
- Finally gather up the limes. Try looking a bit sheepish.
- Look them deeply in the eyes and say, “Sorry. I’m bad at Pickup Limes.”
- Marry them.
Folks are asking me whether I think this report that Orson Scott Card will see nothing from the box office gross of Ender’s Game is accurate, some of them, I suspect, hoping that his not making additional monies from the film means they can go see it without feeling guilty about tangentially supporting Mr. Card and his less-than-very nice positions regarding gays and lesbians.
Leaving aside the fact that the story is nicely timed to target die-hard SF fans on the fence about seeing the film, which is something one might wish to consider, and fully acknowledging that, regardless of my professional knowledge of the film industry, I have not seen Mr. Card’s film contract and am thus talking straight out of my own ass in terms of actual facts, some thoughts:
1. It wouldn’t surprise me if in fact Mr. Card sees no additional direct income from the film. Writers of a film’s source material (whose names are not JK Rowling or something similar) are often paid upfront and/or offered token “net” points (which will never be realized because no film in Hollywood ever gets out of the red, thanks to imaginative accounting) and/or have at best some clauses that offer an additional set payout if certain box office benchmarks are met. It’s entirely possible, and even probable, that Mr. Card’s contract is structured so that he’s been all paid up at this point.
(Alternately, it’s possible that he previously did have some profit participation and that it was determined by the powers that be that this would be bad PR for the film, so they bought out his profit participation. Be aware that a) possible here does not mean at all likely, b) I am going to reiterate my position of talking out of my ass here.)
2. Yes, but what about Mr. Card’s producer credit on the film? Isn’t that indicative of gross points? If he was an actively participating producer, i.e., engaged in the day-to-day production on the film, it might. On the other hand, if the producer credit was given as a courtesy and/or for Mr. Card’s shepherding of the film through its famously drawn-out development period, he might have simply gotten a check and some more net points. Not all producers on a film are equal.
3. Regardless, Mr. Card appears to have been paid very well for his participation in the film up to this point — the article suggests he’s earned more than a million dollars to date, a sum which strikes me as entirely likely. Even if he does not directly make another penny from the film, he already has more than enough in his pocket.
4. Likewise, the novel of Ender’s Game is doing exceedingly well at the moment — it’s number one on the New York Times paperback bestseller list, as I understand, and it’s likely to continue to do very well through the rest of the year regardless of how the film does. Mind you, the book does very well anyway; it sells hundreds of thousands of copies a year, year after year, and has done so for decades. Other books in the Ender series also sell very well perennially. Mr. Card does make money from the book sales, even if he does not benefit from the film.
5. Thus it should be noted that if one is planning to boycott the film Ender’s Game to punish Mr. Card financially, the boycott has already failed. Mr. Card is already benefiting from the massive exposure the film has afforded his book and his work. 2013 is likely to go down as one of Mr. Card’s best years, financially speaking, even if the film adaptation of his book tanks. At the very best, solely from a financial point of view, a successful boycott of the film would be for Mr. Card the difference between a massively financially successful year and an absurdly massively financially successful year.
Likewise, unless Mr. Card has been exceptionally foolish with his money to this point, even if he never sold another book in his life from today, and no one ever made another movie from his work, it’s entirely possible he’s still financially secure for the rest of his life, given the totality of his sales to this point.
This is not to suggest people who are boycotting the film (or Mr. Card’s work in general) are wrong or foolish to do so; as I’ve noted before, people should follow their conscience with regard to what entertainments and which creators to support. Mr. Card, however, is likely not suffering financially for it.
6. Variety projects that Ender’s Game will finish out the weekend with $27 million in domestic box office. That seems about right to me, given the time of year and the reviews to date, which have been good-to-mixed. I think Variety’s guess is actually slightly high; I’d guess between $20 million and $25 million.
This also suggests that the film will probably end up somewhere between $60 million and $90 million in total domestic box office, which seems to me about right as well. I also suspect it will do about 2:1 business overseas, which means globally I suspect the film will make between $180 million and $300 million. It has the advantage of not having any strong direct competition this week (the only other major opener is the animated film Free Bird, which skews younger). It’s going to get hammered (sorry) by the new Thor film in its second week.
In short, I expect this film to be solid (and profitable in the long run) but not stratospheric in terms of box office. It’s likely to be a double, not a home run. If Ender’s Game ends up markedly south of $20 million for the weekend, then I think it would be reasonable to suggest that the controversies around the production and Mr. Card had had an effect. If the films clears $30 million for the weekend, that raises some interesting questions, too.
7. Let me note, as I have before, that I am not an entirely disinterested observer in the box office success of Ender’s Game. My book Old Man’s War is currently set up at Paramount. If Ender does really well, then that’s likely to be a positive for any eventual green light on my book; if it flops massively, then, well, that’s probably not the best thing for me. Mr. Card (whom I have met and had a pleasant time speaking to) and I have diametrically opposing views on a number of political subjects, most notably same-sex marriage. I fully support the choice of any person not to see Ender’s Game based on their feelings about Mr. Card. I also, and for entirely selfish reasons, hope the film does not flop.
Update 11/3/13: Ender’s Game ended up as the #1 film for the weekend, with an estimated weekend gross of $28 million, slightly higher than Variety’s estimate (and somewhat higher than my estimate). It did not flop.
So let’s fire up the Batmanmobile, go to a taco stand, and eat some feelings, okay?
I really like Uber, and I’ll take Uber over a taxi every single time I can. I really like being in a clean car, with a friendly driver who genuinely cares about my experience, because I’m rating them and that matters to them. Basically, they work a little harder to give me better service, and I pay about a 5% premium for that.
Earlier this week, though, I took Uber to and from the Stone Company Store in Pasadena, and both drivers gave me this aggressive sales pitch that made me very uncomfortable. They both wanted me to contact them directly when I needed an Uber car, so they could drive to wherever I was, wait for me to request an Uber car, and then they’d answer the request.
Both times, the pitch was a very hard sell, accompanied by boasts about their clients in Bel Air or Beverly Hills, and left me feeling like I’d rather not ride with either of these guys again. When I’ve hired a driver, I just want that driver to get me where I’m going safely and comfortably. I don’t want to feel like I’m getting a high-pressure sales pitch when I’m basically a captive audience.
I’m putting this out there because I want to know if this is happening to anyone else in LA or any other cities? Is this some new kind of official Uber policy? Or did I just happen to get two seemingly random guys who were working off of almost the exact same script?
I början av september presenterades Phonebloks – ett koncept för uppgraderingsbara mobiler bestående av en samling individuella delar som kan bytas ut separat. Google-ägda Motorola har nyss presenterat Project Ara som vill förverkliga den visionen.
På företagets officiella blogg berättar Motorola om hur de sett de första tecknen på ett nytt, öppet ekosystem för hårdvara som är möjligt tack vare additiv tillverkning. Motorola ställde frågan: Hur ger vi fördelarna med ett öppet hårdvaru-ekosystem till sex miljarder människor?
Svaret blev ”Ara” som leds av Motorolas Advanced Technology and Projects group. Målet är att skapa en öppen hårdvaruplattform som tillåter modulära smartphones. Motorola vill vara för hårdvara vad Android varit för mjukvara. Företaget har ambitionen att skapa ett pulserande ekosystem för tredjepartsutvecklare.
Tanken är att du ska kunna välja vad din telefon gör, hur den ser ut, vad den är tillverkad av, hur mycket den kostar och hur länge du kommer ha kvar den. Det kanske låter som en utopi men det här är faktiskt något Motorola satsar på. Hur väl Motorola lyckas återstår att se – det är ett mycket ambitiöst och potentiellt omvälvande projekt.
Motorola har arbetat på Ara i ett år. Designen består av moduler och vad företaget kallar för ett endoskelett (endo). Endo är ramen som hyser modulerna. En modul kan exempelvis vara en ny CPU, en ny skärm, ett nytt tangentbord, ett till batteri eller något helt annat. Genom möjligheten att byta ut individuella delar av våra smartphones kan vi använda dem längre utan att de blir förlegade. Om en viss del går sönder kan den dessutom bytas ut separat istället för att hela enheten i värsta fall måste kasseras.
Vi nämnde Phonebloks i inledningen och Motorola kommer arbeta med Dave Hakkens – mannen bakom konceptet, för att bygga ett community kring uppgraderingsbara mobiler. Inom ett par månader kommer Motorola skicka ut inbjudningar till de utvecklare som ska skapa moduler för Ara-plattformen. Ett MDK (Module Developer’s Kit) planeras till vintern och vi ser med spänning fram emot utvecklingen.
Ten rape prevention tips:
1. Don’t put drugs in women’s drinks.
2. When you see a woman walking by herself, leave her alone.
3. If you pull over to help a woman whose car has broken down, remember not to rape her.
4. If you are in an elevator and a woman gets in, don’t rape her.
5. When you encounter a woman who is asleep, the safest course of action is to not rape her.
6. Never creep into a woman’s home through an unlocked door or window, or spring out at her from between parked cars, or rape her.
7. Remember, people go to the laundry room to do their laundry. Do not attempt to molest someone who is alone in a laundry room.
8. Use the Buddy System! If it is inconvenient for you to stop yourself from raping women, ask a trusted friend to accompany you at all times.
9. Carry a rape whistle. If you find that you are about to rape someone, blow the whistle until someone comes to stop you.
10. Don’t forget: Honesty is the best policy. When asking a woman out on a date, don’t pretend that you are interested in her as a person; tell her straight up that you expect to be raping her later. If you don’t communicate your intentions, the woman may take it as a sign that you do not plan to rape her.
”Den här serien om värden i livet av Bill Watterson (skaparen till Kalle och Hobbe, denna fantastiska serie) gjorde min dag. Det är precis så det känns.
EDIT: Orden är från ett tal som Bill Watterson höll, men teckningarna/serien är av Gavin Aung Than. (Tack för rättelsen!)
Och den här serien om underliga namn i fantasy är också precis rätt på. Det blir inte episkt, eller ens fantasy, eller bättre, för att det dräller av märkliga namn. Faktiskt inte.
I woke up at 3am this morning to the sound of a ruckus in my front yard, followed by giggling, followed by people giving other people decorating instructions.
And I thought to myself, “My neighbors are drunk and toilet-papering my house, aren’t they?”
The answer:
Why, yes. Yes they were.
These neighbors, incidentally? Older than me. So I can’t even shake my cane at them!
That’s it. I’m going back to bed. That’ll show them.
It was a hashtag that was trending on Twitter this evening. Here are my contributions to it.
The Amityville Inconvenience #GentlerHorrorFilms—
John Scalzi (@scalzi) October 12, 2013
The Exercyclist #GentlerHorrorFilms—
John Scalzi (@scalzi) October 12, 2013
Rosemary's Baby Bjorn #GentlerHorrorFilms—
John Scalzi (@scalzi) October 12, 2013
The Rocky Horror Picture Showroom #GentlerHorrorFilms—
John Scalzi (@scalzi) October 12, 2013
The Incredible Shrinking Manwich #GentlerHorrorFilms—
John Scalzi (@scalzi) October 12, 2013
They Live (And They Do Live Well) #GentlerHorrorFilms #WithExtraAddedStonehenge—
John Scalzi (@scalzi) October 12, 2013
The Thing From Another Worldview #GentlerHorrorFilms—
John Scalzi (@scalzi) October 12, 2013
I Walked With a Zombie 5K Fun Run #GentlerHorrorFilms—
John Scalzi (@scalzi) October 12, 2013
Hellbraiser #GentlerHorrorFilms—
John Scalzi (@scalzi) October 12, 2013
The Sixth Sense and Sensibility #GentlerHorrorFilms—
John Scalzi (@scalzi) October 12, 2013
The Blair Witch Project Runway #GentlerHorrorFilms—
John Scalzi (@scalzi) October 12, 2013
Videodromedary #GentlerHorrorFilms—
John Scalzi (@scalzi) October 12, 2013
The Cabinet of Dr Pepper #GentlerHorrorFilms—
John Scalzi (@scalzi) October 12, 2013
Village of the Damned Speed Traps #GentlerHorrorFilms—
John Scalzi (@scalzi) October 12, 2013
House of Wax On, Wax Off #GentlerHorrorFilms—
John Scalzi (@scalzi) October 12, 2013
Eraserheadcheese #GentlerHorrorFilms #AlsoPossiblyGrosser—
John Scalzi (@scalzi) October 12, 2013
Phantom of the Opera Browser #GentlerHorrorFilms—
John Scalzi (@scalzi) October 12, 2013
The 4G Dead Zone #GentlerHorrorFilms—
John Scalzi (@scalzi) October 12, 2013
The Last House on the Left, No, Your OTHER Left #GentlerHorrorFilms—
John Scalzi (@scalzi) October 12, 2013
I Know What You Did Last Summer and You Don't Get School Credit For That #GentlerHorrorFilms—
John Scalzi (@scalzi) October 12, 2013
The Fly For a White Guy #GentlerHorrorFilms—
John Scalzi (@scalzi) October 12, 2013
Paranormal Activity Book #GentlerHorrorFilms—
John Scalzi (@scalzi) October 12, 2013
The Weebles Under the Stairs #GentlerHorrorFilms—
John Scalzi (@scalzi) October 12, 2013
Cujo Jo Dancer, Your Life Is Calling #GentlerHorrorFilms #DropsMic #GoodnightYouveBeenGreat #TipYourWaitstaff #TryTheVeal—
John Scalzi (@scalzi) October 12, 2013
As you may or may not know, I am writing some JOHN (and also HANK) GREEN FANFIC for the HPA’s Equality for the Win fundraising campaign. I thought I’d put just the FIRST FEW PARAGRAPHS here, just to give you a TASTE. If you’d like to get the entire story, you can DONATE HERE.
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The day John Green realized Benedict Cumberbatch was hiding in his house was the day his collection of Nicholas Sparks novels spontaneously fell off the bookcase in his office. This surprised him. What surprised him more was that there was a face, shelf high, now clearly visible in the spot where the books had been.
It was the face of Benedict Cumberbatch.
“Who are you?” Cumberbatch said, Cumberbatchly.
“I’m John Green,” said John Green.
“Clearly an alias. Let’s see who you are really.” Benedict Cumberbatch touched his hands together in prayer formation, and touched them lightly to his lips. “Weight evenly distributed, no reliance on the lumbar region of the spine, a slight hunch in the thoracic. You work at a standing job, at a counter. Your hair is tousled, quite high, indicating that you either use a lot of product or it’s stress. But no one with that haircut would use that degree of product and there’s no telltale smell or sheen, so it’s natural. Stress. Combined with the standing job, that indicates customer service. There’s residue of some kind of foodstuff on your shirt. You’ve tried to wipe it away but the trace is still there. Food service, then. The stain is high on your body—you work at a counter, most likely. The substance is high fat but highly viscous and faintly white. A commercially produced milkshake, most like. Considering your age, I’d suppose you’re likely to be advanced in this position, so I think we can reasonably conclude that you are the manager of a fast food restaurant. A Burger King, perhaps, or a Wendy’s.”
“You’re right about the hair being caused by stress,” John said. “The white stuff is baby puke, and I stand at a treadmill desk, which you know because you’re looking at me standing on it. What are you doing behind my bookshelf?”
“I’m thinking.”
“About what?”
“Things you couldn’t possibly understand,” said the Cumberbatch. “You’re boring.”
It was at this point that John Green realized something was not right. One, Benedict Cumberbatch was concealed behind a bookcase in his office. The second thing was that Benedict Cumberbatch seemed to be behaving like Sherlock Holmes. These two things together painted a clear picture, and John Green didn’t like the look of that picture.
So John Green picked up his phone.
In Missoula, Montana, Hank Green reached out of his massive outdoor hot tub to answer his phone. His hot tub was in the shape of Science itself and was the only one of its kind in the world.
HELLO, JOHN. said Hank Green. I JUST WANT YOU TO KNOW I’M IN MY HOT TUB SO KEEP IT CLEAN.
“Got it,’ John Green said. “Listen, it looks like Benedict Cumberbatch has been secretly living in my house.”
BENEDICT CUMBERBATCH IS IN YOUR HOUSE? said Hank. YOU MEAN, LIKE, SHERLOCK?
“I mean exactly that,” John said. “And I think? He thinks? He’s Sherlock Holmes?”
THAT’S REALLY WEIRD. said Hank.
“I know.” John cast a glance over and saw Benedict Cumberbatch sniffing the edges of his books. “He got, like, behind the bookcase? You know that kind of free-standing one, that’s like a grid?”
OH YEAH I KNOW THAT ONE.
“Yeah, well, he got behind it. I don’t know how long he’s been there.”
HANG ON…
WHAT HAPPENS NEXT? Donate to find out.
You don't need to be a professional bartender to know the difference between a sidecar and a Tom Collins, but if they're not drinks you order regularly, you may not know how they're made or what the history behind them is. This video from the folks at Mental Floss will teach you.
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Signal boosting in case anyone needed to know this.
This is informative as heck. Show this to everyone!
Transgender Teenage Couple Transition Together (via The Huffington Post)
A pair of teenagers from Oklahoma might seem like your typical young couple, but their love story is unlike many others. The transgender couple actually transitioned together.
Just two years ago, Arin Andrews and Katie Hill hadn’t transitioned yet. The two had struggled with their identities throughout childhood; Hill had struggled with bullying. Then one day they met at a trans support group, after each had begun the transitioning process, and they fell in love.
Found this ridiculously sweet story today and wanted to share it with my followers
