esther_a + id:ursulav   50

Sun, Moon, Dust - Uncanny Magazine
Allpa received the magic sword from his grandmother, as she lay dying.
fic  id:ursulav  f:OriginalFiction  short 
may 2017 by esther_a
Making Light: Hugo IV: A New Hope
@ 528 Em - That is painful and lovely.

Bob the Gull! Heavens, I feel like I should start this in skaldic style--I sing of the Gull, frustrating of fieldmarks!

Well, bear in mind this is a secondhand account, as related to me, but apparently a gull showed up in the neighborhood of Seattle that was ALMOST an Icelandic gull. Which is a pale, medium-sized gull that MAY have all white wing tips, (some have a tick of black) and would be incredibly rare. Meanwhile, a Glaucous gull, which would merely be uncommon, is a somewhat larger gull that does have white wing tips and the juveniles can be very pale. Both have a yellow bill with a red spot.

This gull was apparently smack dab in the middle. Pale! But a little too big to be one! But a little too small to be the other! And not a juvenile because the bill is wrong but third year gulls are weird and not quite right for an adult of either species.

Now, if the bird had come through and left immediately, probably everyone would have shrugged and moved on, but the damn bird over wintered and hung around for months. Everybody had photos of this gull. And the fights broke out--apparently at every Audubon meeting for months, or so the legend says--because if it was an Iceland gull, people could count a new life bird (or a new state bird--state listing is a specialized for of bird fandom) but if it was a hybridized Glaucous x Iceland they couldn't. (Hybrids don't count.) And you had people who could tell a gull from a shot of a wingtip arguing it was and experts just as good on the other side arguing it wasn't, and impassioned "I know an Iceland when I see one!" and so on. Slides were involved.

I am told there was shouting. It is the sort of thing that would have given rise to filk in other fandoms.

Eventually Seattle Audubon ruled that it was neither Glaucous nor Iceland, it was Bob. Bob was his own thing, Bob defied categorization, and no more meeting time would be taken up by it. Henceforth, he was Bob the Gull, only one of his kind, and let us never speak of this again.

Eventually Bob flew away, before it occurred to someone to try and catch him for a DNA sample.

People being what they are, I'm sure there are still birders who aren't talking to each other, and I'm sure a few people wrote "Iceland Gull" on their life lists, but your lifelist is between you and your God, and the rest of us shall not intervene unless asked for advice.

And that is the story of Bob the Gull. And unless he has since died, I am sure he is living still.
nf  id:ursulav 
may 2015 by esther_a
Annotated fairytales
Ursula Vernon MSTK's some of the more odd and obscure fairytales.
story-index  id:ursulav  humor  'LJ  f:Fairytales 
october 2014 by esther_a
Bark Like A Fish, Damnit! - The Day My Grandmother Exploded
So we were chatting on a writing forum about "hooks"--the things you're supposed to have that make the reader keep reading--and about hooks that were clearly over the top and existed just as an attention grab, and somebody tossed out "It was the day my grandmother exploded" as an example and then I was off and running and I haven't got any idea what this is at all, so don't get attached (and don't tell me I said that about Digger!) because I think this is probably just weird flash fiction and not the start of a messed up urban fantasy.
fic  id:ursulav  f:OriginalFiction  femslash  short  crack  'LJ 
october 2014 by esther_a
Jackalope Wives | Apex Magazine
The moon came up and the sun went down. The moonbeams went shattering down to the ground and the jackalope wives took off their skins and danced.
fic  id:ursulav  f:OriginalFiction  gen  short  'other  f:Fairytales 
january 2014 by esther_a
Bark Like A Fish, Damnit! - The Sea Witch Sets The Record Straight
I didn’t take her voice for myself. I want to set the record straight on that, right up front. People got a lot of crazy notions in their heads, the way the story got around, and that was one of them.
fic  id:ursulav  short  'LJ  f:LittleMermaid  f:Fairytales 
november 2013 by esther_a
Bark Like A Fish, Damnit! - The Glass Mountain And The Sensible Child
…and then one day she realized that her life was not wonderful. That she was miserable. That people were being cruel to her, and when she said something, she was told to be grateful that she had friends that cared about her enough to treat her so cruelly for her own good.

It probably won’t surprise you, my dear, to learn that she got angry.

Yes, indeed, she did. And the person that she got angry with was herself—

No?

But this happens a great deal, you know.
fic  id:ursulav  f:OriginalFiction  'LJ  f:Fairytales 
april 2013 by esther_a
Bark Like A Fish, Damnit! - Elegant and Fine
The real problem with Susan, in the end, was not that she was no longer Narnia’s friend. It was that she had already been its lover.
fic  id:ursulav  f:Narnia  gen  het  femalecharacters  short  ouch  'LJ  post-canon 
september 2012 by esther_a
ursulav: It Has Come To My Attention
It has come to my attention
that people like me
are generally not welcome in fairy tales.

It’s the talking birds that do it.
nf  id:ursulav  poetry  f:Fairytales 
december 2011 by esther_a
ursulav: [peter pan] Never
It was all very well to go away in the night with an elfin boy with laughing eyes who taught you how to fly, and promised that you’d never have to grown up, but it turned out that grown-ups had a great deal to do with meals arriving regularly and on time. To get food, you had to beg it off the Indians or steal it from the pirates, and as a result, nearly everyone was hungry all the time, except perhaps Pan.
fic  id:ursulav  dark  short  'LJ  f:PeterPan 
november 2011 by esther_a
ursulav: The Wolf and the Woodsman 1/2
Here. Listen.

I’ll tell you a story.

Listen.

Once upon a time there was a girl. She was probably about twelve or thirteen, but that was an age when children were older than their years and expected to do real work and help with the harvest, so perhaps she was only nine or ten.

http://ursulav.livejournal.com/1464434.html (part 2)
fic  awesome  id:ursulav  f:OriginalFiction  'LJ  f:RedRidingHood  f:Fairytales 
august 2011 by esther_a
ursulav: Excerpt From The Regency Novel I Will Never Write
“Do you know why I am going to kill you?”

The Prince Regent was foxed. He knew he was foxed. He was pretty sure that someone had just threatened him, but here was the Duke of Foxmoor on his right, and Warthington on his left, and there was the young man with the gun in front of him…oh. Hmm.
fic  ficlet  humor  awesome  id:ursulav  'LJ 
may 2011 by esther_a
ursulav: Dreamlands
The Dreamlands are, simultaneously, both the easiest of the otherworlds to get into and one of the hardest.
fic  ficlet  id:ursulav  f:OriginalFiction  'LJ 
may 2010 by esther_a
ursulav: Miss Tansybaum's Circus of the Moderately Peculiar
Miss Tansybaum did not have a freakshow (at least not in the conventional sense, although the less charitable would argue that the entire operation qualified.) Instead she had Sister Rosemary's Curious Convent.
fic  awesome  id:ursulav  f:OriginalFiction  'LJ 
february 2010 by esther_a
ursulav: I Really Ought To Be Working...
twisted fantasy AU of the Little House on the Prairie books
fic  satire  ficlet  nf  id:ursulav  f:OriginalFiction  'LJ 
october 2009 by esther_a
ursulav: A Chunk Of The One Bluebeard Story With The Hedgehog
The problem with crying in the woods, by the side of a white road that leads somewhere terrible, is that the reason for crying isn’t mostly inside your head. You have a perfectly legitimate and pressing reason for crying, and it will still be there in five minutes, except that your throat will be raw and your eyes will itch, and you will still be stuck in the woods halfway to somewhere terrible.
fic  ficlet  WIP:permanent  id:ursulav  f:OriginalFiction  'LJ 
august 2008 by esther_a
The Book of the Gear
Whenever possible, I have attempted to verify Eland’s writings against other sources, but our information about the clockwork labyrinth, the “gear world” Eland the Younger describes, is so fragmentary that Eland’s writings must often stand on their own. Additionally, past librarians have often jumbled these sources together with Eland’s own work, so that one may occasionally find fragments from other writings related to the subject, or inclusions from other volumes of Terra Absurdium, or in one case, for no reason that I can determine, three volumes of the formerly lost work "Ganesh's Guide To Tchang Cooking," rendering the process even more frustrating.
fic  favorite  epistolary/document-fic  long  awesome  id:ursulav  f:OriginalFiction  'LJ 
june 2008 by esther_a
ursulav: Golem girl
The golem girl sat in the corner of a ruined basement.
fic  short  awesome  id:ursulav  f:OriginalFiction  'LJ 
may 2008 by esther_a
ursulav: Okay, once again--rough, unpolished, nee
There are a number of smells one expects to encounter in a dungeon. Fresh rosemary generally isn’t one of them.
fic  ficlet  id:ursulav  'LJ 
march 2008 by esther_a
ursulav: Druids
Many people have a very skewed vision of what druids do...
I do not wear oak leaves. I have yanked up so many goddamn oak seedlings—pin oak, black oak, water oak, thrush oak, the squirrels bury the acorns, the acorns sprout, and suddenly there’s hungry roots everywhere and perfectly decent plants who never had an unkind word for anybody are getting smothered under an ocean of ravenous oak—I cannot abide oak.
fic  ficlet  id:ursulav  'LJ 
march 2008 by esther_a
ursulav: Asylum of Angels
Like many of the better run asylums--and they had, after all, the sort of unlimited budget that only omnipotence can achieve--this one was neat and clean and unspeakably dreary.
fic  ficlet  id:ursulav  'LJ 
march 2008 by esther_a
ursulav: The Dress
Over the years, people have gone to truly extraordinary lengths in pursuit of fashion. A catalog of peculiar gowns would fill several volumes, even without getting into bizarre hats, wigs, gloves, codpieces, shoes, eyeglasses, and all manner of other demented accessories, and I will not so tax the reader except to mention a few highlights.
fic  ficlet  id:ursulav  'LJ 
march 2008 by esther_a
ursulav: I have been noodling around with this go
All wizards are crazy.

Not the quaint, colloquial “crazy” where you have an offbeat sense of humor and wear brightly colored socks, not mild eccentricity coupled with a general lack of fashion sense, not “you don’t have to be crazy to work here, but it helps.” Wizards aren’t weird. They are genuinely, legitimately, around the bend.

This is because magic is a form of psychosis.
fic  short  ficlet  id:ursulav  'LJ 
march 2008 by esther_a
ursulav: An Evening In The Life Of Sings-To-Trees...
Sings-to-Trees had hair the color of sunlight and ashes, delicately pointed ears, and eyes the translucent green of new leaves. His shirt was off, revealing the sort of tanned muscle acquired from years of healthy outdoor living, and you could have sharpened a sword on his cheekbones.

He was saved from being a young maiden’s fantasy—unless she was a very peculiar young maiden—by the fact that he was buried up to the shoulder in the unpleasant end of a heavily pregnant unicorn. Bits of unicorn dung, which was not noticeably more ethereal than horse dung, were sliding down his arm, and every time the mare had a contraction, he lost feeling in his hand.
fic  ficlet  awesome  id:ursulav  f:OriginalFiction  'LJ 
march 2008 by esther_a
ursulav: I know I'm getting old.I'm starting to appreciate Andy Warhol
uddenly I find myself thinking "Not only was I not born when this art came out, thirty-eight years ago, my parents were still good Catholic teenagers waiting for marriage. This painting pre-dates not just my birth, but even the possibility of my conception."

Thirty-eight years, and somebody somewhere is on a blog, ranting semi-coherently about it.
art  meta  blogpost  nf  id:ursulav 
march 2008 by esther_a
ursulav: The Gospel of Judas
"Christianity would not be notably improved by inclusion of a gospel where Jesus turns into a teenage girl with a telepathic unicorn pet."
writing  meta  religion  nf  id:ursulav  fandom 
march 2008 by esther_a
ursulav: Sadness and Sadism
There is obviously a sadistic streak in writers, and it's kind of scary how fun it is sometimes, when you feel you've really earned it.
meta  writing  nf  id:ursulav 
march 2008 by esther_a
gearworld -
an LJ with a very cool exploration log of a very strange place
fic  favorite  steampunk  epistolary/document-fic  awesome  id:ursulav  f:OriginalFiction  'LJ 
august 2007 by esther_a
"- Digger" By Ursula Vernon
A wombat. A dead god. A very peculiar epic.
nf  webcomic  complete  biweekly  favorite  id:ursulav  awesome 
august 2007 by esther_a

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