Sundry items

[truepenny]

1. There's a short interview with me up at Grinding to Valhalla.

2. Serendipitously, I have found an example of omniscient which involves switching PoV within a paragraph and yet is quite distinct from head-hopping. These are the opening lines of Georgette Heyer's The Toll-Gate:

The sixth Earl of Saltash glanced round the immense dining table, and was conscious of a glow of satisfaction. It was an emotion not shared by his butler, or his steward, each of whom had served the Fifth Earl, and remembered, with a wealth of nostalgic detail, the various occasions upon which the State Dining-room had been used to entertain Royalty, foreign Ambassadors, and ton parties of great size and brilliance.

The entire first chapter is told in this panoramic omniscient, moving from viewpoint to viewpoint, and she does it with beautiful smoothness.

3. Even more serendipitously, as I was writing item #2, I got email telling me that another interview is live, this one at Suite 101.

4. When I went to sleep around midnight last night, the Elder Saucepan was loafed on my hip. When I woke up at 6:25 this morning . . . the Elder Saucepan was loafed on my hip. My inference is that there's about six hours in there where I didn't move.

It is perhaps not to be wondered at that I'm feeling a little stiff this morning.

5. The Wii keeps trying to use me against mirrorthaw. I find this highly objectionable--although not as objectionable as the house centipede that was lurking up near the ceiling in the corner behind the TV last night.

Comments

[oracne.livejournal.com]

I think cats are like logrollers when we turn over.

[truepenny.livejournal.com]

Hee.

In this particular case, I'm pretty sure I didn't turn over.

[alex51324.livejournal.com]

Gah. I loathe centipedes--I've made my peace with most creepy-crawlies, including spiders up to the size of a quarter, but I can't stand centipedes. But the other night, I'd have been glad to have a centipede lurking in the corner near the ceiling. My centipede story, let me tell you it. First, I noticed Mr. Centipede crawling across the floor. He was heading away from me, and Fred, the household's Junior Cat, was watching him attentively, so I wasn't too worried, and decided to let her take care of the situation rather than stomp on him. When she pounced, however, he made a loop around the coffee table and headed straight for me. At this point, I became anxious. Then she made another ineffective pounce, and sent him scurrying (I thought) under the couch that I happened to be sitting on. Then I looked down and saw that he had in fact scurried up the side of the couch and was perching on my shirt. My actual shirt that I was wearing at the time. I screamed like a girl and flung off the shirt in question (the only piece of good luck in the whole mess is that it was a button-down that was unbuttoned at the time--had it been a pullover, I think I'd have just died on the spot). I am not sure where he went after that, but it took me quite some time to regain my composure, let me tell you. Ugh. I've been considering entering an official reprimand in Fred's file, which will surely affect her chances for promotion in the event a position of Senior Cat becomes available.

[truepenny.livejournal.com]

That's gonna look bad on your performance review, Fred.

[mevincula.livejournal.com]

I'm afraid I've removed centipede disposal from my cats' job description. The cats find it much more interesting that centipedes continue to move once they've been torn in half (2 toys for the price of one). I only needed to see that once.