Purging the Cell

Doesn't that title sound twisted? Microscopic cellular puke?

Yeah, sorry to disappoint.

Apparently I have talent for losing digital photos--an odd habit for a self-proclaimed digital packrat... or at least, it is until I explain how I lose these bad boys...

I take them, with complete intention of using them somehow, and then promptly forget I've taken said photos...

99% of my cell phone photos fall under these categories:

1. Forgot my real camera for a classic photo opportunity... ie: field trips, visits with Santa, etc. Yes, I sometimes fail as a mom... actually, since I'm convinced failing is part and parcel of being a mom, I suppose I win there, too. (Justification: she is my super power.)

2. Comparison shopping. Take photos of prospective bargain at one store in order to compare it to similar (if not identical) item at another store, including comparing to online stores' items.

3. As my memory and a facilitator for laziness. If I've encountered something that I know I won't remember the name (and will possibly need said name) in order to relate the story to Mr Lannis or friends, I'll take a photo. I've taken pics of lists and requirements in order to not have to carry/copy paperwork. Also in relation to shopping: great for remembering specific details of bundled items or selection a store has. Definitely good for when Mr Lannis sends me to pick up something I know nothing about (take photo, show him, have him decide if return visit for purchase is necessary). Ultimately anything that will end up disqualifying my faulty memory from responsibility.

4. Ease of sharing. It's far easier to use our home WiFi network to share a quick cell phone shot on Facebook than it is to unplug the actual camera's memory card, upload photos to iPhoto, then in turn to Facebook. I've also been know to send the odd photo in a text message, but thanks to my lack of data plan this will cause my cell phone carrier to yell at me. Every. Time.

5. Random shenanigans... self-explanatory, yes?


So. Basically I'm in the market for a new phone. Nothing fancy. That I've downloaded my current cell's photos to the laptop actually speaks volumes about my commitment to an upgrade.

This post? Yeah. It's a showcase of the complete random that has accumulated. No reason other than how can I not share this gold?!

Yes, I'm lying in a vat of Lego. Dreams do come true. Note: my kid is not surprised.

Santa's elves have safety standards.

That's a giant bear sitting on my kid.

Still makes me laugh.

Yes, that's a plush homemade dill pickle. Watch out, it'll bite you.

This was a Christmas present of pure awesome. Jello brains!

Spotted in my town. I sleep more easily.

And lastly... I couldn't resist:

Words of Wisdom

[Note: This post was originally published on The Mrs on December 17th, 2011.]

Okay. I don’t have an anecdote or silly story to tell today, but I have a present for everyone just the same.

Wisdom. Perhaps a touch of much-needed mental breathing room?

Regardless of whether you’re decking your halls in anticipation of a birthday that happened over two thousand years ago, or (secularly) for a fat guy to break into your house because he’s been watching your kids all year (yeah, because that’s not creepy at all), or well... I’d touch on other celebrations but I’m going to err on the side of “I don’t celebrate it, so I won’t mock it” because I’m friendly (read: ignorant) like that...

Anyhow, point being: for whatever reason, there seem to be plenty of reasons for people to get-together this time of year. In Canada we call it “keeping warm.”

A lot of us will be seeing family soon, be it our family by blood, or the one by choice. And we all know what happens when you get a lot of people together with different opinions, philosophies... perhaps a little alcohol poured in there, too...

Yeah. Shit show, ahoy.

So. In the interest of keeping our lovely family here at The Mrs aneurysm-free over the holiday season, I give to you some words of wisdom.

This is in our main floor bathroom. Because everyone needs to see it.

Everyone.

Everyone who comes into my house long enough to use the bathroom, that is.

I’ll admit I need the daily reminder. Thanks to the copious amounts of tea I drink, I receive this reminder often.

My sanity — and my blood pressure — are much better since I hung this handy sign. (Psst — someone posted it on Pinterest and you know how we feel about Pinterest around here.)

But, if this mental mantra doesn’t work — because not everything works for everyone — I give to you —

(Are you ready?

...

Now?

...

Like, seriously ready?)

Peace!

Or, well, pieces of people, I suppose... written in zombie font.

And if visualization’s your thing, might I suggest imagining any aggravating offenders (offending aggravaters?) you meet over the holidays as participants in said font?

If that doesn’t work, there’s always defenestration...

Merry, merry, and all that jazz from the Lannis Clan!

WORLD WAR Z by Max Brooks - Book Review

[Note: This review was originally published on PostWhatever.com on Sept 20, 2011.]


Rating: 4/5 -  A satisfying read that’s worth every word.

Title: World War Z: An Oral History of the Zombie War

Author: Max Brooks

Format: trade paperback

Published: 2006

Genre:  Science Fiction, Horror

Publisher: Three Rivers Press

Landed in my hands: purchased myself


Summary (from cover blurb):

We survived the zombie apocalypse, but how many of us are still haunted by that terrible time? We have (temporarily?) defeated the living dead, but at what cost? Told in the haunting and riveting voices of them men and women who witnessed the horror firsthand, World War Z is the only record of the plague years.

Review:

When I heard about World War Z: An Oral History of the Zombie War I was instantly dying to pick it up. (Zombies... dying... heh.) Despite the subtitle, I had no idea what I was getting into.

Both fascinating and terrifying, World War Z interviews those who were in the trenches and otherwise affected by a not-so-future zombie outbreak and its residual conflict. Brooks achieves realism through a methodical approach to events, be they on the battlefield (as it were), part of the civilian response, or the political ramifications of a zombie apocalypse.

And I can’t forget the healthy dose of survivor cynicism. It wouldn’t be complete without the cynicism.

I was delighted to see the recycling of interviewees, but I wish I’d noticed earlier so I could better appreciate their continued tales. And since these are transcribed interviews — all first person viewpoint — the speakers themselves can occasionally blur together.

This is not to say that Brooks doesn’t do a good job of creating distinct voices for his interviewees, it’s more that certain voices are similar and can become muddled further on in the book. Battle strategies, emergency plans, the heart and heartlessness of humanity... each interview clearly progresses the narrative or fleshes out a previously undiscussed area of life.

The fact that it’s about war put you off?

No worry, the diversity of the interviews creates a well-rounded look at the changing world. It’s not entirely military. It’s not entirely North American. In fact, it spans the globe, to space and the bottom of the ocean. These interviews impressively touch areas affected by the conflict, be it environmental, psychological, technological, ecological, economical, political, and more.

It examines aspects of a zombie apocalypse I never fathomed, and with a thoroughness that makes me glad I paid for my copy — Mr Brooks, you deserve my money, sir. You have given me plenty of entertainment, thank you.

It’s highly readable, and scarily identifiable. What makes it a good read also makes it a horrifying one. These characters are telling the height of their experience, the horrible parts, the terrifying parts. The graphic parts that get your pulse racing and your chest tightening.

It’s why they’re being interviewed — to share their experiences.

And of course, the slow, paralyzing truth of a situation can be the most frightening thing of all:

All human armies need supplies, this army didn’t. No food, no ammo, no fuel, not even water to drink or air to breathe! There were no logistics lines to sever, no depots to destroy. You couldn’t just surround and starve them out, or let them “wither on the vine.” Lock a hundred of them in a room and three years later they’ll come out just as deadly. 

It’s ironic that the only way to kill a zombie is to destroy its brain, because, as a group, they have no collective brain to speak of. [...] There was no president to assassinate, no HQ bunker to surgically strike. Each zombie was its own, self-contained, automated unit, and this last advantage is what truly encapsulates the entire conflict. [...] 

They had no limits to endurance. They would never negotiate, never surrender. They would fight until the end because, unlike us, every single one of them, every second of every day, was devoted to consuming all life on Earth.

If you’re interested in zombies and thrillers, or like war stories and need something new — try this one. It’s earned its place on NPR’s annual fan-compiled list of the 100 top Science Fiction and Fantasy titles.

This is one of those books where I realize someone else has clearly put more thought into their apocalypse emergency plan, and I probably won’t make it to the second day...

I guess Brooks’ Zombie Survival Guide: Complete Protection From the Living Dead should be my next read then, yes?

BLACKOUT by Mira Grant - Book Review

[Note: This review was originally published on PostWhatever.com on May 6, 2011. Seanan McGuire is JordanCon 2013's Author Guest of Honour and I'm stupid with excitement.]

Rating: 5/5 - So delicious that I read until my eyes went blurry!

Title: Blackout (book three of The Newsflesh Trilogy)

Author: Seanan McGuire writing as Mira Grant

Format: mass market paperback

Published: 2012

Genre: Horror/Thriller/Science Fiction

Publisher:  Orbit Books

Landed in my hands: purchased myself


Summary (from the cover blurb):

The world didn’t end when the zombies came. We just wish it had.

The conspiracy that rules post-zombie America is alive and well. The same can’t be said of the bloggers who dared tell the truth as they found it.

Now, with too much left to do and not much time left to do it in, Shaun Mason and his team must face mad scientists, zombie bears, and rogue government agencies--and if there’s one thing they know is true in post-zombie America, it’s this:

Things can alway get worse.

BLACKOUT is the conclusion to the epic near-future trilogy that began with the Hugo-nomiated Feed and its sequel, Deadline.

Review:

It says an awful lot about Blackout that I was a good 250 pages in before I remembered to stop and take notes. Any time I get that immersed in what I’m reading, it’s a good sign, and I’m happy to say Seanan McGuire has done a great job continuing the adrenaline rush she began with Feed and Deadline.

That said, I kind of feel I’m repeating myself with this review. What struck me as squee-worthy in the other installments did the same all over again in Blackout: the charmingly idiosyncratic characters, the snappy dialogue, the logical evolution (devolution?) of society, and the realism of her worldbuilding...

A great example of the nuances of post-Rising society is this snapshot of necessary changes to property law:

Durno v. Wisconsin was the case that decided the dead had no rights regarding property on or around their immediate persons at the time of death, making it perfectly legal to take a zombie’s car and claim it as your own. It’s been abused a few time over the years. It’s still seen, and rightly, as one of the best legal decisions to come out of the Rising. I mean, who has the time to transfer a pink slip in the middle of a zombie uprising?

It’s these little offhand remarks on the part of the narrator that give such great insight into the post-zombie-apocalypse world, most specifically into the state of the infrastructure and social systems. Most of my experience in zombie-based entertainment includes mass panic and a heavy dose of “everyone for themselves” mentality. McGuire’s take on how society would adapt — including constant viral testing, the basic infrastructure of new-build safety juxtaposed with pre-zombie architecture, and modifications to the government and established social systems for safety and efficiency — well, it’s incredibly well-conceived.

And with that, I’m a convert — erm, converted fan? (Somehow this doesn’t sound right. I swear I haven't amplified. Yet. Heh.) Feed was my first taste of zombies in the literary sense, and it will be far from my last.

Now if only I didn’t suspect Seanan McGuire had set the bar incredibly high...

Oh! Just one more thing: I'm going to go on record (my spoiler alarm's ringing too loudly for me to say in what capacity) and say that I was wrong about a particular aspect of this trilogy and I am more than happy to be wrong.

Because (nutshell version), I was sold on one view, and when McGuire pulled the rug out from under me it was oh, so satisfying!

And that, my friends, is why I read: I love being surprised shocked struck dumb by a twist. And when it's done so well I'm floored because completely didn't see it coming? I'm oh so excited to admit I'm wrong...

Thank you, Ms McGuire. It was worth it. All of it.

Torn (Flesh?)

Okay, so... I was scrolling through my newsfeed on Facebook this morning and a friend of mine mentioned that she was interested in finding some of these...

Etsy to the rescue!

Now understand, I am not the garden ornament type. I'm not a fan of woodland animals peeking out between my hostas and lilies—unless they're breathing. There are no resin angels or fairies doing their thing (whatever that may be) in my garden.

But these aren't your everyday cartoon frog cast in cement...

They're positively whimsical, yes?

They're a touch pricey, but I love 'em. And the kidlets are kidlets—it's not like they're going to get freaked our or anything, they love zombies, and they take things in stride. They think zombies are gross and fascinating in that manner of boys when it comes to anything possibly described with the adjectives disgusting, slimey, and/or barf-tastic.

I'm hovering oh so close to clicking that purchase link...

But...

See, the thing is, it's 100% an impulse buy. And it's not like Mr Lannis is going to balk and think I'm crazy (he married me, remember? He's well aware of the insanity. Maybe he thinks it's endearing or some garbage... I'm still confused...)

No, it's more that we moved to this house almost three years ago, and I'm, well, torn...

Yes, torn.

Torn between trying to appear respectable (at least for a little while, in our relatively new town), and admitting that we're the oddball weirdo hicks on the corner...

Realistically, though? The weird is going to leak out eventually... and it usually makes a mess... (heh.)

It's March. In Canada. Gardening season doesn't start for (at least) another two months (le sigh). No need to make any rash decisions—and if I wait a while I can at least pretend it's not an impulse buy, right? Right?

Right.

And as much as Mr Lannis is my grounder, I'm fooling myself if I think he's not going to go apeshit with glee at the thought of unsuspecting dog walkers catching sight of a zombie gnome by streetlamp light...

(He's fun like that.)

This same friend has mentioned on her Facebook post that she's looking to attract the right kind of people in her own neighbourhood, and that these gnomes will help "fend off the nincompoops."

Best. Pitch. Ever... Mr Lannis will totally buy that... (heh.)

Wish me luck...

DEADLINE by Mira Grant - Book Review

[Note: This review was originally published on PostWhatever.com on June 15, 2011. Seanan McGuire is JordanCon 2013's Author Guest of Honour and I'm stupid with excitement.]


Rating: 5/5 - So delicious that I read until my eyes went blurry!

Title: Deadline (book two of The Newsflesh Trilogy)

Author: Seanan McGuire writing as Mira Grant

Format: mass market paperback

Published: 2011

Genre: Horror/Thriller/Science Fiction

Publisher:  Orbit Books

Landed in my hands: purchased myself

Summary (from the cover blurb):

Shaun Mason is a man without a mission. Not even running the news organization he built with his sister has the same urgency as it used to. Playing with dead things just doesn’t seem as fun when you’ve lost as much as he has.

But when a CDC researcher fakes her own death and appears on his doorstep with a ravenous pack of zombies in tow, Shawn has a newfound interest in life. Because she brings news -- he may have put down the monster who attacked them, but the conspiracy is far from dead.

Now, Shaun hits the road to find what truth can be found at the end of a shotgun.    

Review:

Ooh! Ooh! Who’s glad they pushed themselves out of their genre comfort zone with Feed?

Me!

And even more for promptly picking up Deadline, because it is such a rewarding read.

Grant has a great ability to keep the pace running with cliffhanger chapter endings. And I’m a sucker every time. Seriously, if my eyes literally hadn’t been blurry (yes, that rating system is based on reality) I would have read this in one sitting. Yep, I’m certifiably converted. Feed was my first zombie book, Deadline the second, and I’ll be damned (heh) if I don’t get my hands on the forthcoming Blackout, too.

There are a couple of casting changes from Feed to Deadline — to be expected within zombie and conspiracy tales alike — and Grant’s twist on this is refreshing. Shaun, Georgia’s brother, is the viewpoint character, and I was delighted to find him as entertainingly disgruntled in his commentary (and internal struggle) as George is in the first book. And their relationship is interesting as always, to say the least.

The lines of conspiracy have developed further in this installment, and Shaun, not the born-leader type, has to step up and lead the blogger crew of After the End Times to the truth. The all-encompassing, Big Brother-eqsue idea of government using and abusing power and information is not a new idea, but still all too chilling in its possibility. Power, corruption, all that jazzy goodness, am I right? Add a zombie outbreak, and suddenly it’s a dry conspiracy story no more...

The subtle comparisons the characters make between their current world and that which existed before the Rising (the first onslaught of the virus that created zombies), lends believability to the story. Grant is thorough with her logic for her setting, and the resulting forced adaptation of the society that she has created is both tragic and fascinating. The reality these characters inhabit varies significantly from our own, and Shaun’s filter is an amusingly irritated way to see how the world has changed. His take on grocery stores as potential death traps makes perfect sense:

I’ve seen pictures of pre-Rising grocery stores. They’re weird, cramped things, with narrow aisles filled with milling consumers — and of course, when the zombies came, they turned into effective little death traps, full of places for the infected to hide. Even the sprinkler systems they used to run over the vegetables worked to spread the outbreak, since all it took was a few drops of blood getting into the water system, and bam, you were literally misting live infection throughout the produce aisle. [...] The rise of the modern grocery store has been a reflection of people’s twin needs to eat and not get eaten. The layout is closer to the old megastores than anything else, but only a certain number of people are allowed in each department at any one time. Groups cycle through according to the store’s floor plan, with air locks and blood testing units between each distinct part of the store. The process takes hours. Grocery shopping is not an activity for the faint of heart.

::shudder::

My instinct is to imagine having to bring a toddler with me, but of course, in Grant’s 2041, I’d barely take my child outside, let alone risk exposure in an outing to the grocery store.

It’s exactly the kind of authenticity of detail that stabilizes the entire story, enabling this reader to suspend her disbelief and sink into a zombified future.

Yes, zombies aren’t for everyone. I get that.

But if you’re even a little bit interested in broadening your reading horizons, I highly suggest you track down Mira Grant’s Feed, because The Newsflesh Trilogy is worth it, for sure.

Costuming Season

It's costuming season at Chez Lannis.

(Short aside: there's this book series called the Wheel of Time, and I might like it a bit... Okay, enough to fly to Altanta every April to party with awesome and like-minded geeks at an itty bitty shindig called JordanCon...)

Anyhow. Costuming season. What does that mean?

It means I occasionally upload weird pics to Facebook.

Kinda like this. (That's a corset pattern, btw.)

It means I have my sewing machine and assorted gear sitting in a corner of the kitchen.

It means I regularly commandeer the table in said kitchen for cutting, sewing, painting, gluing, and what have you, so that Mr Lannis must relocate to the living room couch for his meal eating and coffee drinking (as a shift worker he runs on a separate schedule to the rest of the house during the week. I feel no little guilt.).

It means I have a half naked dress form standing in my living room next to the window. Her name is Lady Penelope, and I'm hoping she scares the neighbours (heh).

It means I'm giddy with the thought of how many days it is before JordanCon (only 50 and counting!), and how little time that actually translates for costuming! (GAH! What'm I doing blogging?! Must SEW!)

It also means the housework is secondary. Oh, who'm I kidding? It's like seventh tier on the chart right now—waaay behind costuming, food, groceries, laundry, and, um, husband and kids are in there somewhere... this list may or may not be representational of actual priority, unless we count costuming as first and housework as near the bottom...

Who needs perpetual chores, anyway?

The one thing that it also means? Since JordanCon is in April, and I live in Canada (read: the dry, cold, snowy country with soul-crushing blank skies similar to the Blight, heh), it means it's also cracked hand season.

Yep. Cracked hand season. The tips of fingers split. Skin thickens, burns with dryness. Knuckles bleed.

I shit you not, on any day I'll discover out of nowhere that I'm bleeding all over things, without even noticing.

Coffee cups. A hairbrush. The van's steering wheel.

Imagine, if you will, folding laundry, to find a streak of fresh blood smeared across your child's shirt. GAH! Your finger's bleeding! Again! Not one, but two! And for how long? Who knows?!

Back into the wash for a cold water soak.

I'm sure you gather where I'm going with this?

Costuming season in the Lannis household means my fingers look like they've been attacked by a rabid pack of zombie bandaids desperate for human flesh...

It's virtually impossible to have any tactile sense. And this is before you count the needle-pricking and fingertip bruising that sometimes comes with detailed costuming work.

If I manage to show up at JordanCon with a costume, it's a goddamn Bel Tine miracle...

FEED by Mira Grant - Book Review

[Note: This review was originally published on PostWhatever.com in January 2011. Seanan McGuire is the Author Guest of Honour at JordanCon 2013, and I am positively stupid with excitement!]

Rating: 4/5 -  A satisfying read that’s worth every word.

Title: FEED (book one of The Newsflesh Trilogy)

Author: Seanan McGuire writing as Mira Grant

Format: mass market paperback

Published: 2010

Genre: Horror/Thriller/Science fiction

Publisher:  Orbit

Landed in my hands: purchase myself


Summary (from the cover blurb):

The year was 2014.  We had cured cancer.  We had beaten the common cold.  But in doing so we had created something new, something terrible that no one could stop.  The infection spread, virus blocks taking over bodies and minds with one, unstoppable command: FEED.

Now, twenty years after the Rising, Georgia and Shaun Mason are on the trail of the biggest story of their lives — the dark conspiracy behind the infected.  The truth will out, even if it kills them.

Review:

Okay.  Here’s where I trot out the first of my many dirty secrets:  I’m a genre bigot.  Yep.  I read speculative fiction, but I’ve never read a zombie book before, and I wouldn't deny it if I was accused of turning my nose up in the general stinky, sticky, gory zombie direction.  Last January, though, I decided that the year would include new reads — stuff out of my usual norm.  And with that in mind, when Rebecca from Dirty Sexy Books proclaimed Feed as the winner for the December book club slot, I decided to give it a go.

And I’m certainly glad I did.

Feed bucked my vision of what a zombie story would be.  Sure, there were gory undead running around, along with super-charged security to help keep the living alive, but I didn’t expect to find a political campaign and an engaging conspiracy theory inside this book, regardless of what the cover blurb said.

Immediately the story opens with action, and keeps moving.  If there isn’t action on screen, then the narrator, Georgia, is explaining the dystopian, zombiefied world in an engaging way.  It helps that Georgia is a blogger, used to reporting the news and keeping to facts.  She’s entertainingly observant when it comes to her companions and the events around her.  I’m surprised I managed to put the book down, because every time I picked it up, I was shocked at how quickly I was engrossed again.

There were several things about this book that I found refreshing, including the shocking fact that the coverage of the US political campaign didn’t bore me.  (Seriously — this is big!  When people say "politics" my brain hears the wordless wonh-wonh of adult babble from Shultz' Peanuts.)  Georgia has a snarky, smart slant to her that makes her recount of politics interesting -- she’d gloss over the boring parts or pick it apart in an amusing, grumbly way, or focus briefly on technology or a historical tidbit that added to the story’s realism.

The presentation of technology in 2039 is realistic and yet not too tech-y.  The lockdown procedures and constant testing for infected individuals are logical, and though they feel paranoid at times, it’s mostly due to culture shock.  I couldn’t imagine wandering around constantly being pricked, basically every time I enter or leave a place (or want to get into my own vehicle).  And every time someone had to have their hand jabbed, I thought of how freaking painful that would be — constantly?  And yet, no one really complains until the very end!  (Thankfully someone did — it was beginning to drive me bugnuts!)

What I absolutely love about Feed, though, was the close brother-sister relationship between Georgia and Shaun.  I don’t think I’ve ever read a book with such realistic sibling closeness, and given the circumstances of their lives and the world they’re in, it makes perfect sense.  This quote from Georgia kind of sums it up:

Steve’s eyebrows arched upward.  “You two would rather share a room?”

His expression was a familiar one.   We’ve been seeing it from teachers, friends, colleagues, and hotel concierges since we hit puberty.  It’s the “you’d rather share a room with your opposite-gendered sibling than sleep alone?” face, and it never fails to irritate me.  Social norms can bite me.  If I need to have someone guarding my back when the living dead show up to make my life more interesting than I want it to be, I want that someone to be Shaun.  He’s a light sleeper, and I know he can aim.

So yeah, overall?  Feed is one of those books that makes me happy I forced myself out of my comfort zone.  Cheers!