Loooook at it, it is almost done and it is beautiful! But it’s got that big blank spot on the back cover. I would love to fill it with pull quotes from reviews! If you have reviewed Earthrise (or any of the Pelted stories, where you might have a quote about the setting as a whole), and want to get your quote on the back cover there, point me at your comment!
We finish up the negative art story.
***
The Kickstarter got new backers over the weekend! We’re now at 241% funded, with 70 backers (!) and $1692, just $8 shy of $1700! Amazing! I’ll have to draw some more pony-jaguars squeeing. :)
***
Also of interest: I’m starting a quarterly newsletter! This will be a very brief summation of my latest offerings and what I’m currently working on. If you’re too busy to keep up with the blog, this will be a way to get four emails a year with just the news, and nothing but the news. At the end of the year, I’ll also give away a selection of goodies to a handful of randomly selected folks from the mailing list. Go on and sign up if you’re interested! I’m going to send out Spring’s newsletter (a month late!) this week.
Child’s eating is beginning to drive me crazy. She is rejecting more and more of the foods she used to eat, and when she asks for food half the time it’s candy or cookies or ice cream. While she’ll cheerfully leap on mangoes and blueberries and other fruits, getting her to eat some form of protein that doesn’t involve breading a chicken is like pulling teeth.
This is on my mind when we are waiting to be seated at a breakfast restaurant, fresh from picking blueberries. We’d spent a half hour at that, and Child had been interested for the first fifteen minutes and then spent the last complaining that she was tired and could we do something else. Mommy told her briskly that the more she complained, the longer it would take for Mommy to pick berries and why didn’t she pick some more of her own?
So, we are hungry and tired. And as the hostess collects menus for us, Child says stubbornly, “Do I have to eat eggs?”
“Yes,” I say.
“AwwwWWWW but I don’t WANT to eat eggs!” she cries.
“Too bad,” I say. “You can eat eggs or nothing.”
We sit and are rewarded with crayons, and she starts doodling while I order for us both—the eggs, because she used to like eggs and they’re good for her and by God, I hope if I just keep putting them in front of her she’ll forget that she decided to hate them and eat the things. We spend a companionable fifteen minutes drawing together on the paper and are interrupted by the waitress with our meals.
I start eating because I am ravenous, and I am a third of the way through my meal when I realize… Child is eating her eggs. Has, in fact, eaten them all. “Now can I have my toast?” she asks.
“You ate all your eggs!” I exclaim, stunned.
“I know,” she says.
“But you didn’t complain once!” I say.
“I was complaining,” she tells me and nibbles on her toast. “I just did it in my head.”
This startles a laugh from me. I say, “You know what?”
“What?”
“I do that too, all the time,” I say. “Complain in my head instead of out loud.”
“I complained a LOT,” she confides.
“Well,” I say. “Since you did all your complaining in your head and ate your eggs anyway, why don’t we walk next door and get a cookie?”
She lights up. “Ooh, yes!”
So we finish breakfast and walk hand-in-hand to the health food store where they sell the gluten-free baked goods. I wonder a little at my buying her a cookie as a reward for not whining. Surely this is bribery? And then I think: But that’s the way the world works. The people who aren’t unpleasant get rewards more often than the people who are nasty or whiny or unpleasant to be around. Is it sad that we learn we can’t always say what we feel? I think it must be a little. But part of growing up has to be learning how not to say everything on your mind… learning that your speech has consequences, and you can either manage those consequences or constantly wonder why life keeps punching you and how it’s not fair and what did you do to deserve it.
“Pick me up!” she cries when we get to the case, and I bend at the knees as if I’m about to lift a very heavy box, because my almost-six-year-old girl is no longer the easy armful she was at three or four. I hold her up and we put our heads together, and practice our reading skills on the labels. She wants the chocolate chip cookie, so she gets it.
And then I buy myself a cookie, too. Because I spend a lot of time biting my tongue, and once you get to be grown up the only reward for good behavior is the knowledge that you were good, and Mommy is no longer around to pat you on the back.
We share out the goodies in the car and to make sure I don’t undercut my message on self-restraint I give us both only half, and we’ll save the rest for later. She sighs—one complaint—and then eats her cookie. So do I. We make crumbs and it’s all good, and on the way home, she sings.
Start Time: 9 PM EST! Probably until 11 PM or 12, depending on when I collapse.
URL: http://www.livestream.com/mcah
What do I do? Go to that URL, open the chat window, choose a name for yourself and say hi! If you have a Flash/script blocker you will need to unblock the page to see the stream.
What I’ll Be Up To: Probably comics, or other art. We can talk about the Kickstarter, the Wingless audiobook, or forthcoming projects (or just chat!).
Do stop by if you’re interested! I love having the chance to chat with you, or watch you chat with one another! Quick, I need more exclamation points!!
Ahem. See some of you in an hour and a half!
Marketer explains the effect of audience expectations on sales.
***
Reminder that tomorrow I am hosting a livestream get-together at 9 PM EST! I’ll be drawing comics and chatting with people who stop by (or listening to you chat to each other). Tomorrow I’ll put up instructions on how to join.
***
The Kickstarter’s doing well! Today we’re at 207% funded, whoot! Pony-jaguar will be taking a break posting updates over the weekend, as has become customary, but look for more fun on the project blog Monday.
***
Finally, some car doodles:
Tired jaguar is tired. I liked how the colors in this one came out. And the flopped over ear.
One of the best quick sketches I’ve ever done of the Chatcaavan Emperor. How about that!
Don’t cry, emo jaguar. Tomorrow’s another day to keep trying!
So the eating seems to be going well, or at least, I am tamping down on as much of the unhealthful influences as I can. Doing that has given me a lot more energy, and a steadier energy, than I had while I was eating crazy stuff I shouldn’t. Also, making vegetable juice has had absurd results: like, so absurd I went from “I am skeptical about this hippie back-to-nature stuff” to “omg, everyone needs to drink this now and we will have world peace.”
Okay, maybe not that extreme, but close. I feel more alert and calmer and I have a host of other strange but pleasing side effects, like the shape of my face changing and my skin getting better. One of my coworkers, on finding out how long ago I originally worked for the university, exclaimed, “You can’t possibly be that old.”
*preen*
Anyway! The piece that’s missing is exercise. I now stand at a desk for six to seven hours a day, and by the time I get home from that, I am exhausted and what I really want is to sit in a chair and feel the blessed relaxation in my limbs as I take the weight of gravity off them. And this is good, because I’m tired… and bad, because I love exercise. While fencing‘s out of the question still, for time and money reasons, running is still in my grasp and I haven’t had the physical energy for it since I started working the Day Hobby.
But this is no good. I might need the exercise as much as I would have had I been sitting at my desk all six hours, but I miss it. I miss the long stretches of time doing nothing but working out thorny plot problems while listening to music. I miss the pleasure of feeling like my body works, that it can work, that if I throw it on a treadmill for half an hour it will obediently jog until I’m done. I miss watching the muscles develop as they grow and then reshape the skin above them.
Recently, my old gym sent me one of those “offers you can’t refuse” in an attempt to get former members to rejoin. Since it was a 66% discount off the already discounted price I originally paid them, I couldn’t say no, particularly since they have a sauna. I don’t love gyms the way I love sports, but I have fond memories of this gym: it was on their elliptical that I came up with Spots, and walking in there makes me think, powerfully, of creative rushes, and the adrenaline highs of “OMG I KNOW WHAT COMES NEXT”.
Tonight, then, I go back to running and weights. I’m not sure how I’m going to manage my energy level so that I can get through an entire routine, but the only thing for it is to experiment. If you have suggestions for getting through end-of-day work-outs (no, doing it before work is not feasible), I’m all ears!
FOOD
Like us, Ai-Naidar are omnivores. Their primary meat source is fish, which they cultivate in the city as well as catch outside it (glance in any of the many pools in the city and you are likely to find fish there). They also serve game meat. You’ll find occasional birds, but it’s fairly rare; most birds served as food are those that stay grounded most of the time, things like quail and ducks. Of vegetables and fruits you’ll find a plenitude. Kherishdar is a rice culture, so you can expect to see some of the familiar forms of rice dish there, from sticky sweet rices to rice paper rolls. Food is almost invariably light, however; heavier dishes are reserved for people doing rigorous physical labor. You will not be considered one of them, however you feel about spending all day on your feet!
Eating customs have varied historically. In the modern period, the heaviest meal of the day is dinner, which is eaten in late afternoon, in the company of the rest of the family. Breakfast is usually a catch-as-catch-can affair, and very light, eaten before people dress/prepare to go out. Whether or not they have that light breakfast, people will often eat a meal an hour or so afterwards, and that meal is taken “at work,” in the company of peers. Interestingly, my observation is that most people stand while taking that meal, or do so at a small table in the workplace for that purpose. If the Ai-Naidari works at home, they may skip that meal if they’re alone, or take it with coworkers (usually family members) if they’re present. It’s also very common to go out for that meal.
A fourth “meal” is sometimes taken before sleeping, but this meal usually consists of something very light, or just a liquid. Fruit is rarely used for this meal: if there’s eating involved, it’s usually a vegetable, not too starchy or sugary.
I should re-emphasize that the Ai-Naidar do not eat as much as we do. No doubt part of this is biological: they don’t seem to need quite as much fuel as we do. But a lot of it is a cultural emphasis on minimalism. It’s not that gluttony is disapproved of—though if taken to an extreme it merits Correction—but it is considered bizarre, or an excess of the young. This tendency toward eating judiciously probably helps them with longevity and quality of life issues. While they have shorter lifespans than us, they are healthier until the point of their abrupt senescence.
It is polite to enjoy a meal, and to praise it. Try not to ask for seconds though. If you’re given the task of serving yourself, then put enough on your plate to prevent going back for more.
MEAL COURSES AND ETIQUETTE
Most meals have courses, even if abbreviated: for instance, breakfast will begin with something warm to drink (tea or clear broth) and then the main dish is served. Sit-down meals with family usually involve several courses; different families will choose different ways to move through the meal, but the intent is always to allow sufficient time between small courses to feel replete, and to digest and savor what you’ve had. Even meals without courses should be lingered over. Eating slowly is important, especially since you’ll be expected to make conversation over the food. It’s not uncommon, for the family meal, for there to be an interruption between courses long enough to sit back from the table and talk, or even leave the table entirely.
You may spot an herb now and then served as its own course: this is frafra, a digestive stimulant. It has a flavor like mint, or pepper (or both? It’s both piquant and refreshing), and it’s often used as a palate cleanser.
Food is inevitably served family style when served to a group. The elderly pick first, and then pregnant women and children. Adults go last. Guests are slotted into this hierarchy based on caste and rank, and so I can’t give you specific rules for that: for your part, you should eat last unless you have a health issue, since I’m fairly certain that’s what the food order is designed to support. People whose nutritional needs are less strenuous are put at the end of the line, which means there’s no shame in it; you might even consider it a position of honor, because it implies you’re able to help support the parts of the family who have special needs. I’ve observed that the principals of the House often go last, as if reaffirming that they’re hale enough to look after everyone else, and committed to going hungry if there’s not enough for everyone.
In terms of handling the food: Ai-Naidar eat with their hands, and food is designed for that: it’s in small pieces, or wrapped in something easy to pick up. There are no knives—from what I can see, needing a knife is an insult to the person who cooked, because it indicates they didn’t cut the food correctly. Soups and broths are drunk from small bowls. There’s something like a spoon for porridge or risotto-like dishes, but it’s flatter than we’re used to, and is more a way to hold a portion in place when you eat it from the bowl. Gathering the food into your spoon and then lifting it from the bowl to your mouth is considered a bad idea… it’s much easier for the food to fall and splatter, so why wouldn’t you bring the bowl to your mouth and circumvent the inevitable accident?
Sauces for food are served as dips, and if a food is designed to be sauced it will be long enough to get into the dip without also getting your fingers wet.
And there are napkins: a wet napkin (fathra bej) and a dry napkin (fathra dili). The wet napkin is more towel-like, and is served twice: once at the beginning of the meal, to wipe your hands, and then is taken away; and once with the first course. The latter comes in a small ceramic dish, covered, and you can use it throughout the meal if you feel your fingers are sticky, or you spill something. The dry napkin is for tapping your fingers dry, or for wiping your mouth or the lips of plates, and is usually kept on your lap, or folded and to one side.
All the dishware is going to be smaller than we’re accustomed to, except the serving platters.
I should also note that Guardians and Landworkers eat differently from other castes! But it is unlikely that you’ll be dining with either.
I know this is going to be a favorite topic… and I have more to say about it, which we will hear next time! Thank you, also, for the people who listened to me chew through the whole “what kind of utensils do these people use agh!” thought process on twitter. That was fun! :D
We are sitting together on one of the chairs at the kitchen table, and she is no longer an easy lap-ful, this five-year-old child with her sun-bronzed legs and stretching torso. She has her head on my shoulder and the rest of her curled untidily on my thighs, and we are playing the inevitable “Why?” game, which begins when I tell her that we can’t have the lights on at night because we’re sleeping (“Why?”), because she should sleep because then she can grow (“Why?”), because growing is good for you so you can eventually become an adult, (“Why?”), because being an adult is neat, (“Why?), because you can do lots of things that little kids can’t do, (“Why?”), Oh, because I suppose you have so much practice at them that you can do them when small children can’t—
“Why?” she asks.
“I don’t know,” I say finally. “Why would we want to do anything at all?”
She looks up at me, head nestled on my shoulder… makes a screwed-up thoughtful face, and pops out, “To make money!”
And then I burst out laughing. And she laughs too, and I say, “We don’t do everything because we want money! We do things for love, sometimes, and fun!”
She allows that that might be true, but only after I tickle her and pretend to eat her arm, until she’s used up all all her squealing. And then I go to get dressed to go to work, and think ruefully, “To make money, indeed.”
It occurs to me later that I didn’t tell her that sometimes we do things for duty. But then, what is duty, but a form of love? For ideals, for justice, for the right thing, for people as part of our civilization, our community. So, I think, that’s all right. She’ll understand when she’s older. Why is a big question. We’re all still answering it ourselves.
