In my last post, I talked about the real-life preppers who kinda sorta maybe believe the zombie thing is real.
This guy probably doesn’t, but he provides a cute look at why the zombie apocalypse works as a good trope.
Also, he’s just sorta silly. And I approve of that.
I have a secret: I don’t actually believe there will be a zombie apocalypse. Not soon, not ever.
I know, I know, gasp in horror. How dare she?! What a fool! And some of you are rolling your eyes. But I felt I had to clarify, because there are people, casually known as “preppers” who think some kind of doomsday scenario (even extending to zombies, because why the hell not?) is not only possible but imminent.
I’d guess that most people who enjoy zombies and even go so far as to prepare for a “zombie apocalypse” aren’t actually of this sort. I mean, there are bunches of people running away from folks in makeup, discussing their plans for survival, and going to see zombie movies. Even the CDC got in on it. Basically, what’s so appealing about staggering, rotting corpses?
Filed under Uncategorized, writing
Social media–and Twitter in particular–is an amazing innovation. We can talk to people around the world! All the time! For practically free (thanks, unlimited texting!)! Twitter is like the telegram taken to the nth degree; maybe all we need now is to have it download directly to our brains for truly instantaneous communication.
It’s a good way of getting attention for yourself or for making friends or building a community. You can do amazing things with it and meet incredible people* (and “people”).
But–that’s not how most people are using Twitter. And let’s be honest, a lot of those people are writers, because they’re my peeps.
This isn’t the kind of inane “I’m eating breakfast!” tweeting that used to be the top complaint about Twitter users. No, thanks to the rising wave of “using Twitter for business,” now writers feel required to have a Twitter presence (to “build a platform”) and to use Twitter to try to sell books. And much of the advice on those subjects starts with “tweet; tweet a lot.” So what you get is a lot of empty-headed jibber jabber.
I’m by no means a power Twitter user (and the above complaints are big reasons why), but I really do want to be able to connect with people who have similar interests. That means I don’t want artifice. I don’t want bullsh*t, basically. I certainly tweet things that are inane–I saw someone running barefoot in the heat, and I felt that was tweetable–but that’s part of what life is. I’d prefer the “I’m eating breakfast and it’s great!” tweets to the crap I listed above, but it feels like 85% of my twitter feed is just churned out words, with no purpose and no meaning and no real person behind them.
I have a personal rule for my Twitter account: I don’t post anything that I don’t mean. If I can’t care enough about it to believe in my own statements, why should I expect a reader to? I go for authenticity in my social media, and if that makes me a bad Twitter user/platform-builder, well, so be it.
What kind of behavior on Twitter frustrates you the most?***
*Neil Gaiman once retweeted my tweet and it was possibly my best day ever. Until Margaret Atwood did the same thing a little while later. Then I had two best days ever–at least, social media-wise.
***I’ve read about the harassment/threatening/abuse button scandal currently gripping Twitter. It’s dreadful. So I’ll go ahead and assume everyone finds that kind of behavior frustrating. I’m talking about the less-mean-spirited stuff.
Filed under Publishing, writing
Sharpe’s Tiger by Bernard Cornwell
My rating: 2 of 5 stars
This was not the right book for me. I read it out of family loyalty, honestly. It wasn’t poorly written–in fact, it’s a great example of really detailed historical fiction, and that’s impressive–but I just did not care. I tried, I really did, but this book was a very strong “meh” for me.
Private Richard “Dick” Sharpe is in the British army in 1799, fighting a war he doesn’t really understand or have any genuine interest in at all. In fact, he’s considering deserting, because the army is “boring.”
It quickly becomes less boring as he’s set up for assaulting an officer (who really really deserved that punch) and nearly dies thanks to the British “correctional” plan of flogging a man for any crime under the sun. But Sharpe is snatched from the jaws of horrible death by happenstance and a problem that needs a regular man with a bit of wit about him–sneaking in to the enemy Indian city to rescue, or at least take a message from, the captured officer inside.
I won’t give much more away, but of course Sharpe becomes the day’s hero and all is concluded with everyone but the enemy better off than he was before.
You’ll need an interest in military maneuvers for this book to work for you. I thought it was enough to like history, but no, this is a military history book above all else. It comes close to giving Sharpe the daring-do of Clive Cussler’s Dirk Pitt, but falls short, and though he’s clever, Sharpe is also common, so he’s no James Bond either. It’s refreshing, in a way, that the hero is far more average than most action books, but…for me, that also left him rather boring. He doesn’t so much as act as react to his surroundings, and though he does it remarkably well, I struggled to stay interested in this one.
Do give it a shot if you like reading detailed explanations of old fights, though.
Filed under Reviews
This is exactly what I wanted after I saw Pacific Rim. Don’t get me wrong; I loved the movie. I think it’s the best movie all summer, and there have been a lot of really good movies this summer! It’s particularly good if you’re up for the most destruction ever in a movie, and are interested in giant robots fighting giant aliens. (You know you are).
But me? Give me the jaeger with the alloy metal!
Awhile back I wrote about the importance of having non-writing hobbies. One that I’m repeatedly drawn to despite a habit of forgetfulness, a lack of space, and incurably hot weather is gardening.
My dad is an incredible garden. He knows so many things and has shelf after shelf of books on how to do gardening better. And he’s a science teacher, so as a kid, we did a lot of backyard “experiments” on his garden to try to find the optimal growing conditions for things. I joke that I am a gardening apprentice.
But a friend of ours just started gardening at the community garden. And while that is great (50% of the produce goes right to the food bank!), it’s made clear the massive divide between my dad’s gardening knowledge (epic) and most people’s. Even my basic understanding of how to water things (and how much) so they don’t die is far superior to Average Joe’s gardening know-how. And part of me thinks that is sad–gardening is a very useful skill–but I know that it’s just not something a lot of people have exposure to.
I mean, I guess there’s a reason they call experts “Master Gardeners.”
However, it is so useful, you might as well consider it a survival skill–in the event of some kind of, oh, I dunno, zombie uprising or other catastrophic dystopia (plus it’s a hobby that requires continual minimal upkeep and gets you outside and away from your computer. That’s a good thing.)
So here is my new herb container garden, and I thought I’d run down the basics.
This is a really easy design and that’s good for my no-space patio. It’s three corrugated metal tins picked up from the hardware store, potting soil, and herbs. There’s also a just-in-case trowel in the back there for future gardening needs.
I think the whole setup, herbs and all, cost me maybe $25, but then I did have my Master Gardener dad with me to help on a few steps, so your mileage may vary.
This kind of setup is great for small spaces and leafy plants like these herbs. A tomato, for example, needs a lot more soil and a lot more water than this arrangement could provide. Pumpkins practically require acreage. The kind of plant you want to grow really determines how much space you are going to give your garden.
If you want a garden like this, you’ll need to buy your supplies. Then, the first thing you’ll need to do is drill holes in the bottom of your tins, at least five in each layer. If you don’t drill holes in your pots, water will be trapped and can drown your plants from the roots up. That’s a good way to get rot. So it’s important that the water have a way out, though that can make it inconvenient and frustrating when you have to water a lot. It’s really important.
Then, put in potting soil. Unfortunately, due to a lot of environmental reasons and basic pollution, regular dirt from your yard isn’t going to be very good for plants. (This is my first fundamental problem with the end of Wall-E… it takes a long time to recover from that kind of pollution!) Plus, potting soils have a lot of whiz-bang add-ins that can really help your garden. My potting soil has water crystal things in it that absorb water and slowly release it, so that my plants can go a little longer between waterings before drying out. That’s very useful!
Put in your plants. This garden has: spearmint (top), oregano (2nd left), thyme (2nd right), sage (3rd far left), rosemary, chives, and basil (3rd far right). The middle part that is currently empty is actually some purple clover, which is not an herb and is just decorative, but will hopefully grow in and become a nice waterfall effect that should be pretty. I picked my plants (except for the clover, which was a gift from my dad) for practicality. This is a lot of what I cook with, so it’s what I wanted to have on hand. You should pick your plants based on your requirements: are you going for pretty? Practical? Do you hate basil? Etc. Herbs are fairly easy because they grow in similar circumstances, but ask at your garden shop to make sure you are getting plants that can be happy together in the same conditions.
When you put your plants in the soil, you’re going to want to dig a little hole so the base of the plant comes flush to the top of your soil. Then you’re going to want to add a little potting soil all around, so each is wrapped up all nice and cozy. Don’t cover the leaves, but don’t let the roots show, either. You want snug, and then maybe just a little more than that.
Then, water them. A lot. You’re just introducing these plants to a new home, so you want to make them feel welcome. The first time you water them, you really want to saturate the soil. I put in three full pitchers of water in this planter. And yes, some water ran out–but remember, that’s a good thing!
To care for them, now I’m going to water my planter every day or every other day. I’m going to just stick my finger in the dirt to feel whether or not it’s damp, and if I’m even not sure, I’m going to put some in any way. In an herb garden with proper drainage, it’s better to overwater just a little than to let it dry out.
When I want to cook with something, I can just pick it off! As long as I leave about 3 inches of plant, it’ll grow back. As long as I keep the plant well watered and the weather stays suitable, they’ll just keep growing, and I can just keep eating them. Now, they will die out when it freezes, but that’s ok. Some of these will go to seed and might grow back, all by themselves!
I think this is one of those “life skill” things people really ought to know. Not just for the zombie apocalypse or whatever, but just because it is easy to get away from the Earth, to get so completely engrossed in technology and things with screens, and forget how important it is to our survival. We need to have a healthy respect for it. And fresh herbs taste way better, too.
And everyone knows zombies hate rosemary, so there’s that.
Filed under Science, Uncategorized
The other day I was talking to my Significant Other about how we would best survive the zombie apocalypse (you know, like you do), and I think we’ve hit on a winning strategy. See, my brother has already identified the Home Depot-next-to-a-grocery-store he’s planning to hole up in–his plan is to use the construction materials to build a giant elevated platform on which to live and store his oodles of canned goods which he’ll be stealing from the grocery store next door. I’d bandied about several ideas, but until that conversation, I hadn’t decided (though I know all the reasons it’s a great idea to go to your favorite bar…)
But now I’ve got it. I’ll be riding out the zombie outbreak at…the nearest pharmacy.
It’s perfect. Here’s why.
1. Food
Most retail pharmacies not only carry drugs and stuff, but they also have a lot of ready-packaged food. This kind of crap grab-and-go food is normally a terrible thing to eat, but this is going to be exactly the kind of food you’re going to need in the event of a no-power, no-water situation. Plus, there’s lots of candy!
2. Other Assorted Goods
The downside of a grocery store is a) a lot of other people are going to think of it, b) a lot of that stuff is going to spoil pretty quickly, c) they’re really big and therefore hard to defend and d) other people are going to think of it and try to get in, too. But they also mostly just have food, which is good for when you want to buy dinner but bad when you are trying to ride out an outbreak in some kind of comfort. But your local pharmacy has all kinds of bizarre stuff! Sure, you may be making a bed out of three pillow pets and a dog bed, but you’ll have that option, and that is great!
2a. Camping Supplies
They sometimes even have random camping supplies in my pharmacy. Why? I don’t know, but I won’t ask too many questions in this situation. Plus they have hair spray, too, so we can combine that with a lighter for some awesome zombie barbecues.
3. Defensible
Your average pharmacy is a bit worried about theft, so there aren’t many doors and the locations I know of don’t have huge walls of windows (unlike Walmart, Target, or any grocery store). You’ll have to bar the door at the back and the two glass ones at the front, but otherwise, you’re set, no problem!
4. First Aid
In addition to worrying about zombies and possible infection, you’re going to have a lot of non-zombie injuries. You’re going to need a sanitary way of dealing with that, and you’re going to need supplies. Hopefully your average zombie survival kit comes at least with a first aid kit, but that will eventually run out. A pharmacy as your home base will ensure you have a lot more supplies when things start to go bad.
5. Prescription Drugs
Until this week, I actually thought my survival odds for an uprising were pretty danged slim, but not for reasons directly related to zombies. No, my problem is a reliance on things you can’t get when the normal distribution channels are disrupted: prescription drugs. I take two drugs every day just to keep going, for things I was born with (thanks, genetics!) and a third because my allergies are over-the-top. I doubt I’ll be good at fighting off zombies when I’m gasping for air with snot dribbling down my chest–this is a very practical concern. So I need to find a way to maintain my access to these medications as long as possible…and that means taking over the pharmacy. They have a much bigger storehouse than pretty much anywhere else, so I’ll last longer with this supply near by.
Plus, in the long term, having access to prescription medications of all kinds is going to be highly valuable. You won’t be able to see a doctor when there are zombies slogging through the streets, so you’ll have to fight off that cold on your own–or make friends with the folks guarding the pharmacy. I figure that will be really handy if it comes down to a barter system for survival.
So that’s my plan, and retail pharmacies seem common enough that I don’t mind sharing the idea. Where will you be hiding out when the zombies come knockin’?
Filed under Uncategorized, writing
I was in a group of new folks and we were forced to do one of those awful icebreakers. “Pretend you’re on a deserted island for a year and you can only bring 1 book, 1 song (?), and one practical item. The basics are supplied for you. What do you bring?”
I was astounded at the number of people in the group of seemingly educated folks who not only couldn’t pick a book, but said they couldn’t even think of a book. Didn’t even know the last book they’d read.
One guy picked The Hunger Games “because it will make me think about survival and stuff” and one woman picked “that one book I had to read in high school about kids on an island.” She meant Lord of the Flies, and was a bit surprised when we pointed out that one doesn’t end well.
(I picked The Lord of the Rings, if it makes a difference. It’s both long and incredibly re-readable, and it’s been awhile since I’ve read it all anyway.)
I was incredibly disappointed in these new not-yet-friends, and couldn’t help like feeling like Gulliver in his eponymous travels, trying to communicate with the Yahoos. Or maybe that makes me a Houyhnhnm, and I’m the one out of place.
Anyway, it got me thinking about the relative value of reading. Of course, being a writer and editor and general appreciator of the written word, I personally value it quite a lot. But if all these otherwise lovely people can’t so much as name a recent title, maybe I’m being antiquated and longing after telegrams when everyone else has moved on to this new-fangled telephone.
Unfortunately, I’ve got science on my side. There is evidence, based on research done at the University of Toronto, that reading fiction makes people better able to handle ambiguity. Basically, reading about imaginary scenarios allows you to think deeply about situations outside of your own life and consider more options than you otherwise might. It’s mind-broadening.
Personally, I feel like open-mindedness is a characteristic our modern society could use a heckuva lot more of, particularly as we are able to communicate globally and encounter people of backgrounds formerly unimaginable to us. American politics in particular seems to have grown more and more divisive; perhaps what we need is some sort of national book club. We can call it “On the Same Page.”
Additionally, I found another study quite pertinent. Reading makes us more human.
Contemplate the gravity of that statement for a moment. More human. Woah.
The idea here is that reading is one of those things that humans have managed to do that other species have not. It may even be one of the few things that truly separates us from other creatures in this world. Interpreting written works involves basic brainpower (the actual act of reading) as well as spiritual, emotional, and intellectual connections. There is a lot to offer between two covers of a book.
I find fiction–broadly including video games, movies, really good TV shows (no reality TV dreck, thankyouverymuch), and of course books–awakens part of my spirit and mind I otherwise wouldn’t have much of an outlet for. I don’t think I could go without it. In fact, I finished reading a book and realized I didn’t have another promptly cued up. I was a bit frantic until I found a new one…15 minutes later. I am literally never truly without a book, and I hope to spread my joy of reading with the icebreaking group, and with others. We–like libraries–are places of infinite potential, if only we explore.
Filed under writing
I’ve got a beef. Now, it’s considered rude to discuss politics or religion in polite company, but y’all readers (who more likely than not are also writers) may share this beef, so I figure I might as well tell you.
It’s about everyone’s favorite thing to hate: Taxes.
First, let me be clear: I actually don’t mind paying taxes. I know, that sounds hard to believe, but it’s true. Taxes are good, in that stuff that the community at large needs gets paid for. I like having schools; I prefer it when my roads are well-maintained; I think it’s a good idea that our service men and women have sufficient armor.
But there is one tax that I think is just wrong-headed and counterproductive: self-employment taxes.
It’s a little tricky, so let me explain. When you work for someone else, some of your income is taken out to go to Social Security and Medicare and stuff like that. Then, come tax time, you also pay any additional income taxes you may owe–this is set up in income brackets. Generally, it’s a percentage of your income. Mine is about 15% last I checked. At my last job, everyone in my general rate of pay wound up overpaying the IRS, resulting in a nice happy refund.
But I didn’t.
What was the difference? Self-employment taxes.
See, I had been honest on my taxes and reported that I’d earned a little bit of money from my side business as an editor. But I was only using one of those answer-the-questionnaire programs, so I never had any human to actually advise me. If I did, they would have explained this part for me.
Because, as a self-employed person, there is no one to take out those SS and Medicare-type taxes, the government puts that on for you come tax time. It’s aptly called the self-employment tax. It’s about 12-15%, depending on the year. And then, in addition, you pay income tax. And they stack, making my estimated taxes on my side business 30%. That’s a considerably more uncomfortable number, particularly because it’s a very small business.
On top of that, the IRS expects a check from self-employed folks 4x a year, so they are regularly getting the money needed to run the country. Rather than just paying taxes through an employer and once a year, a small business owner has to pay regularly. And if you don’t know that or miss a deadline, you get charged interest.
It can be quite surprising.
So last year, even though I made a very paltry sum in my side business, it threw off my total earnings and meant I had to pay Uncle Sam instead of getting a refund. This was disappointing, so I’ve been doing my homework this year to try to get ahead.
But like I said, I don’t mind paying taxes. My problem is: this kind of tax discourages people from starting their own businesses. And, considering a) how turbulent the economy has been and b) how we as employees can no longer trust that business loyalty between worker and owner goes both ways (ie. that you won’t be fired), encouraging more people to be self-employed–even just partially–is a great idea.
I had the privilege of hearing Dr. Muhammad Yunus, the founder of Grameen Bank, speak several years ago. Grameen Bank is all about providing small loans (microloans) to the poorest of the poor to help them start their own businesses. His work is literally transforming his home of Bangladesh, and his model has been adopted all over the world.
Unsurprisingly, Dr. Yunus is also a big fan of self-employment. It is safe to say that his talk and book inspired me to start my own business, too. But Grameen Bank is really struggling to work in the United States. Why? These kinds of taxes–even just the part about it being difficult to learn about what these taxes are–works against the very small entrepreneur. Sure, all the angel-funded entrepreneurs in Silicon Valley getting millions for an app that earns $0 fit right in, but the Etsy seller, writer/editor, or ice cream salesman struggles.
Personally, I think we need to lower that barrier to entry. We could encourage all those people who are on disability in rural areas to earn income, giving themselves a sense of purpose. It would encourage those who are currently hiding their non-9-to-5 income (you know who you are) to come out and be more honest. And it would give a boost to the overall economy, because, while self-employment isn’t for everyone, it can be as steady as the worker wants it to be. (I’ve found it often means I work more than when I’m working 9-to-5 only, because I’m more committed, more interested).
I think it’s just sort of a shame. Obviously it is important that the country’s bills be paid, but I think the current way self-employment tax is structured is a lost opportunity.
Am I the only one who feels this way?
Filed under Editing, Publishing, writing
M.E. Kinkade 