This week, I had my six-month A1C and lipid panels done at the clinic's lab. Quite satisfactory, other than the cholesterol reading, which is too high, again. It does go up and down with my exercise or lack thereof. I found that to be the case during the years when I was donating blood every 8 to 10 weeks, when I received the cholesterol and hemoglobin test results from the technician who did the screening and filled out the paperwork. I should have kept notes on those test results, but I didn't think of it at the time. I had to quit donating blood when I started having breathing problems (and my hemoglobin level fell from 16 to somewhere just above 12.)
At any rate, having recently begun on the exercise bike again, I have increased from a mile or less a day to 3 miles morning and again in the evening, to adding to that a couple of miles before lunch. My A1C has decreased from 11.7% to 6.5% over these six months, and I have lost 30 pounds in weight. That's in addition to the 45 pounds I had lost over the previous three or four years, after having gained so much when I couldn't breathe properly and had trouble even getting out of bed some days or walking any distance at all for weeks.
My garden is sporting some wildflowers, but no blue wild flax, so far, either the annual or perennial variety. Nice California poppies, though, and what I believe are wallflowers. (Photos on TheMomentsBetween at wordpress (dot) com.) I still have 3 ounces of wild flax seed that I intend to plant when I get peat moss mixed in with the "organic free" black dirt that was hauled in to bank up against the house.
Interrupted by puppies etc.
As for me, I was off to Heathrow, though I did get to see the solstice sun rise in Wiltshire, admittedly over the M4 rather than the heel stone:
The journey all went very smoothly. After some hairy experiences at Schiphol two years ago I'd been worried by the fact that I only had an hour to make my connection at Frankfurt, especially as it involved two different airlines (Lufthansa and All Nippon Airways), but the combination of German efficiency and, er, Japanese efficiency, meant that I needn't have worried.
On the plane from Frankfurt to Tokyo I found myself sitting between two middle-aged Japanese women, both of whom spent much of the next 11 hours in face masks, but who were to play a significant role in my journey.
I'd secretly been a little annoyed by the woman sitting to my right, because she closed the window just before take-off, depriving me of a view I always enjoy. Also, I remembered that you're meant to leave the windows open on take-off and landing, for the grisly reason that it helps recovery workers count the bodies in the event of a crash. I composed a Japanese sentence to this effect in my head, but hesitated to speak it, considering that it would be kind of snotty, however perfect the grammar, and that we were after all destined to be companions for quite a while.
She rose considerably in my estimation when I woke from a nap to find her absent from her seat. How had she escaped without waking me or my equally slumberous companion to the left? A minute later I had my answer, when she returned, removed her shoes, and clambered over both arm rests with the considerate dexterity of a service-industry ninja.
Then, about half hour from arrival, she became a friend for life by positively shaking me to point out a beautiful view of Mount Fuji.
Apart from one very distant blurry glimpse from a Tokyo high-rise last year, it was my first Fuji sighting, and it looked marvellous in the clear early-morning sun (for it was now 6am the next day, thanks to the magic of time zones), brown with an icing-sugar sprinkle of snow. Of course, I tried to take a picture with my crappy mobile phone, but captured nothing but a blur. Then I remembered that I'd bought a camera especially for the trip, and dug that out. Unfortunately I hadn't yet taught myself to use it, and my attempts were really no better than before. Eventually my kind companion suggested I photograph the picture she'd just taken with her iPhone. So here it is, my photograph of the next-door passenger's iPhone's photograph of Mount Fuji:
Just like being there, isn't it? Hokusai would be proud.
As for my left-hand companion, she chatted politely with me, asking why I was coming to Japan, and so on, which was a good chance to give my Japanese a light workout. When I explained about the lectures I'd be giving in Tokyo she promised to tell her daughter, who was interested in anime - but added that her cousin (who was travelling on the same plane) happened to live in Kichijouji, near the university where I'd be staying, and would be happy to show me there when we landed.
So it was that I spent my first hour in Tokyo with left-hand companion and her cousin, the latter seeing me through the Tokyo tube in the rush-hour crush (no joke when you have two sizeable cases), all the way to the door of the university. She'd made a couple of remarks about looking forward to getting back to her Japanese life after her stay in Germany (her younger sister had married a German and even taken citizenship), so I thanked her for her "authentic Japanese hospitality" (本物の日本のおもてなし) - which I think pleased her, but was sincerely meant.
I spent the rest of that day meeting people, paying rent, registering at the library and getting online, and so on - more or less in a daze, for it was 24 hours since I'd had any sleep worth the name. I'll leave that aside for the moment - we will meet these actors again - and just give you a quick tour of my dwelling, the Foreign Faculty House, where I am sole resident. The outside I've already posted, but here it is again, in glorious colour:
So far, the rainy season has consisted of bright sunshine and 29-degree heat, and my little patch of garden is alive with butterflies and dragonflies. A murder of crows has taken up lugubrious residence in a nearby grove.
Inside, I have a spacious and comfortable apartment, though rather oddly appointed. The building, being almost 100 years old, is in any case ancient by Japanese standards, with polished wooden floors on the landings to facilitate the swish of kimonos (not that kimonos do swish, but this is the obligatory word to use with female clothing of yore) and, I suppose, the clatter of geta. There is an ominous stairwell that leads up into a void, but from which, so far, nothing has issued. Anyway, here are a few shots of the inside, to give you a feel:
Some of the facilities, though not quite coaeval with the house, have a distinctly retro vibe - but this makes me feel quite at home, my heart spending much of its time in the 1970s in any case.
Japanese error in most urgent need of correction? Why, that would be my habit of pronouncing "Toukyou Joshi Dai" (the abbreviation everyone round here uses for the name of this university) as "Toukyou Dai Joshi", which translates rather unfortunately as "Tokyo Big Girls".
This must end.
Other than a somewhat jolting experience at the opening ceremonies, which made it clear yet again that many of those who have always assumed their perfect safety in any circumstance (and who thus find argument entertaining) simply do not comprehend the paradigm for those who have always had to be wary, to at least some degree, while maneuvering in public spaces. I trust that learning happened.
After that, things went so very well. So many great conversations, over delicious food. Interesting panels, lovely weather. Another thing occurred to me: I so seldom get that quick-back-and-forth of conversation, as my social life is about 95% online, that I found myself frequently behind a couple steps. At least, I think it's due to that and not (I hope) to me dulling with age.
The con was splendid right to the last moments: my return train was to leave Mpls. at ten-ten that night, and I did not particularly look forward to sitting at the Amtrak station for six hours, but I didn't have the discretionary cash for adventuring about. However after delicious ice cream sundaes (yum, yum, yum!) carbonel generously offered to take me home, then drop me at the station, though it was not even remotely in her way.
My six hours passed so pleasantly it was emblematic of the entire weekend for me: after the fast pace it was so nice to sit quietly, watch some BBC animal planet documentaries . . . and, to my utter delight, the resident kitting--after doing considerable showing off by leaping to wall and ceiling beams and down again--curled up in my lap to purr. When you realize that I rarely get to see cats except in youtube vids when the news is too fraught, you will understand how that was the perfect close to an excellent weekend.
Thence an equally lovely train trip back, much reading and some writing achieved.
And this morning, I hauled my aged bod to yoga, for a much-needed session. This last couple weeks has been all about the head. Exhilarating, but not good for the bod. I used to be so active, until the arthritis turned all my joints into a constant ache; now exercise is something I have to do, so I've some tricks to keep my lazy ass in gear.
Anyway, it occurred to me as I sweated and stretched that the fundamental good of yoga is to strengthen all those muscles we otherwise do not notice that hold the body upright. Especially someone like me with rotten posture (I've had the child-abuse shoulder hunch all my life, and when young fought against it in dance, constantly hearing, "Shoulders down, Smith!" The only time I didn't have it was in fencing, oddly enough) it's easy to turtle. But I feel much better and stronger overall when I keep up with the yoga.
So--that, and to my desk to catch up!
A bit of writerly stuff to pass on: an indie writer I met through a fantasy bundle project last summer, C.J. Brightley, has put out a call for fantasy stories of the uplifting sort, and asked me to pass it on. Submission data here.
1. Solaris has put up a hexarchate faction quiz for Yoon Ha Lee's Machineries of Empire! I got Shuos, which is not what I was expecting. Maybe I flunked the trolley question.
2. Girl of the Port (1930) had almost no internet footprint when I watched it—I could find links to contemporary reviews on Wikipedia, but almost nothing by anyone closer to me in time. By now it's been reviewed by both Mondo 70 and Pre-Code.com, clearly from the same TCM showing. Honestly, this is pretty cool, even if I wish it were more like discovering and promoting a cult treasure than a thought-provoking trash fire.
3. I have been meaning to link this poem since Juneteenth: David Miller's "Hang Float Bury Burn." I wish I knew where to nominate non-speculative poems for awards.
It’s time to put your paws in the air and welcome our latest Star Kit, Legs. She is a 5 week old Tabby from Gainesville, Florida.
Legs is one of four beautiful babies born by a stray queen at a tiny little apartment complex in Gainesville, FL. Unlike her other brothers and sisters, she was born with twisted back legs, also known as Swimmer’s Legs. Even with her disability, she still scoots around, plays, dominates, eats, and defecates. She is the most shy out of all her siblings, but is loving in her own little way.
Already having two cats, she is the only one of the kittens we are keeping, due to believing if we turn her into a rescue or shelter, she will have the highest chance of being euthanized. We are willing to put the time and effort into her care, and don’t believe she is suffering or deserving of being put “out of her misery”.
Dear Senator Johnson:
First of all, thank you for speaking out against the speed with which Senator McConnell is trying to force his Better Care Reconciliation Act through the Senate.
Secondly-- As it turns out, Senator McConnell had polio as a small child; his health care was entirely government-funded. This is exactly the kind of health care--the kind that provides needed services to children whose parents *are*not*wealthy*--that he is trying to destroy. The hypocrisy of this infuriates me, above and beyond all the other things that I think are appalling, shameful, and horrifying about the BCRA.
The BCRA is potentially catastrophic for me. I have a number of chronic conditions, including Major Depressive Disorder, Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder, and Restless Legs Syndrome, that are controlled, entirely or in part, by medications--medications that I cannot afford without health insurance. Without the chemical assistance to straighten out my brain chemistry and neurology, I will very quickly become paralyzed by the apathy of depression and the brain-lock induced by OCD--not to mention the chronic sleep-deprivation caused by RLS. And these conditions are all incurable. They can be *managed* very successfully, but I will never be free of them. I need these medications for the rest of my life. (I'm 42. I'm hoping "the rest of my life" is a very long time.)
Right now, I have insurance through the State of Wisconsin. But--as you are possibly aware--the state has been steadily chipping away at its employees' health benefits for the last 20 years, and if the BCRA passes, it gives Wisconsin greatly increased leeway to make state employees' health benefits ever more meager, which will mean my out-of-pocket costs for prescriptions and doctor visits will continue to increase and increase, while my insurance covers less and less of the care I need. (The medication which principally controls my RLS already has a co-pay of more than $100 a month.) And if I *lose* that coverage, I will be uninsurable. I am a walking compendium of "pre-existing conditions"--I didn't even tell you about the chronic migraines or the fibromyalgia or the Obstructive Sleep Apnea.
Senator, I need health insurance. I need it to be affordable. I need it NOT to be contingent on my never having been and never becoming sick, because that door slammed shut a long time ago. I need it to PROTECT ME, not benefit the health insurance companies and pharmaceutical manufacturers.
I am hoping that, as my senator, you care more about my well-being than you do about providing tax cuts to a handful of people who do not need them. I am hoping that you recognize Senator McConnell's rank hypocrisy and that it angers you as it does me. I am hoping that you will defend me and your other 5.77 million constituents who need, as a matter of quite literally life or death, the access to affordable healthcare that Senator McConnell and his BCRA are trying to strip away from us.
Please continue to oppose the BCRA. Do not let this unconscionable bill be your legacy.
So, the walk I promised you yesterday!
This is the headstock of the mine cage I posted yesterday- if that cable ever snapped, you had a lot of dead and badly injured miners on your hands:
( More pics! )
The sharpening can also be for an edge, rather than just sharpening the point -- this, despite the etymology: from Latin acūminātus, past participle of acūmināre, to sharpen to a point, from acūmen, acuteness. The adjectival sense is almost entirely used in botany (an acuminate leaf) or zoology.
And that wraps up this week's grab-bag of random words -- back next week with another round of the usual mix.
2. Rest strained/pulled muscle (possibly hip abductor) whatever it is so it gets better.
3. Venture out for concerts Saturday and Sunday nights.
4. Laundry? If my muscle is better. It is raining a lot this weekend, so I might not want to trek to the laundromat for that.
5. Try not to be too frustrated with my injury.
My World War One erotica story “The Aid Station, 1916” is appearing in For the Love of a Soldier from Circlet Press, edited by Kristina Wright. It’s out June 29th. This one has been in limbo for a long time, so I’m very excited!
Here’s the opening of my story:
Captain Harry Cash tried not to cling too obviously as the British ambulance hurtled over a hole in the road. They landed with an almighty jolt, slamming his tailbone into the hard seat and his elbow into the metal box strapped next to him. For a few moments, pain distracted him from the breakneck pace, and he hunched over his arm, biting back a stream of curses in courtesy to the driver. Nothing was broken; he would still be able to do his job, once they arrived at the aid station.
The next pit was longer and deeper, but fortunately easier to see; the driver maneuvered them around it, slowly and carefully. The vehicle rocked back and forth in heaps of dirt thrown up by the artillery shell’s impact; Harry could make out remnants of casing strewn everywhere. Even the rural backroads of his home state of Vermont were not so rough.
“I’ll get you there alive, Dr. Cash,” Eloise–Miss Naughton–remarked, as if sensing his thought. Her eyes didn’t leave the road, though her tone was casual. She was a sturdily built, pretty woman in her twenties, round-faced and rosy cheeked, her pale brown hair bobbed under a peaked cap. Her hands were square and competent on the wheel of the ambulance. She’d changed, since he’d last seen her in 1913. She’d cut her hair short, and she’d lost her smiles, and she no longer looked at him as if he was someone who mattered. She spoke to him as if he was a stranger.
I've got news I can't share yet so this is kind of a boring post. I need to get back to my book rec posts but Fridays are kind of a bad day for them.
We were supposed to have a hurricane but it turned and is now torturing a different part of the country.
Oh, I did a Reddit r/Fantasy AMA yesterday, and got a great question on Worldbuilding:
Question: One of my favorite things about your books is the incredible detail and authenticity to the cultures and societies you create. I've read City Of Bones and your Raksura books and I am always immediately engaged when the characters travel to a new city. The residents, architecture, customs, languages, and overall presentation feel well rooted and historical. It really adds an incredible flavor to your writing and inspires me to improve my own.
Are you willing to describe the process in which you develop a new city? When you sit down to create a new location, how you start the vision and do you have a system in how you begin to add layers of detail until the city/town/society feels authentic?
Me: Thank you so much!
I use different methods for different types of book. For the Ile-Rien books, where the locations are based more on real-world places, I did a lot of research into cities in similar cultures, climates, environments as my imaginary city. For the Raksura books, I tried to think of a neat setting for a city, then tried to make it as weird and extreme as possible. Like the Turning City, Keres-gedon, which started out as just a camp in the mountains.
Basically it's a process of coming up with an element you want in your city, like canals. You look at cities with canals, like Venice, and maybe Angkor Wat. What are the canals used for? Transportation, a reservoir, entertainment, defense, etc. You think about how the environment and climate of your city is going to affect your canals. Can they freeze over? Are they affected by drought? Sewage? Plant growth? Underwater monster issues? Etc. Why or why not are they affected by these things? Once you make all those decisions, you decide how they affect the inhabitants of the city, their culture, their everyday life. It can be simple or complicated, and ideally, it leads to ideas that can further characterization and plot. And the big thing to remember is that the reader doesn't need to know everything you know about your canal system. They'll be able to infer a lot from the bits and pieces they see as your characters move through the story, and the sense that the city is operating by a logical system is more important than knowing the exact details.
I also don't usually figure out too many of the details of my settings in advance, since I'm going to concentrate mainly on the parts my characters are interacting with. Like most of the city may be sketched in, but the characters are going to need this little train system and this temple hospital, so those bits are going to get more attention and development. Also keep in mind that cities change over time, with new buildings, new roads, and what stays in place and what gets built over or torn down all say things about the people who live there.
It also helps not to set too many boundaries. You never want to tell readers that there's nothing over the mountains, because it's going to make the world feel closed in, like a puddle instead of a huge mysterious ocean. And if you keep writing in this setting, you may eventually need those empty places to put things in.
I hope that helps!
I have a signed copy of The Murderbot Diaries: All Systems Red in the Authors for Grenfell Tower Auction: https://authorsforgrenfelltower.com/
There are tons of other great items up for auction to benefit the tower fire victims. Please check it out or pass it on.
I wish I could have taken pictures earlier, when the geese had goslings and the irises were blooming. But it's very beautiful now, too.
paths through the water
( more photos from the reservoir )
Not only have we got about twice as many concepts as usual to map this release (at work), we've got less time than usual, due to them not managing to adjust the brand new tooling to process them till a bit late in the schedule.
On the positive side, this may mean missing the work awayday. And it will probably mean not being given any other work, such as research articles, while this is ongoing for the next month and a half. (I'll take any consolations that I can get.)
Oh well. Moan, then get on with it. Coffee is my friend.
Down to the harbour, over the Heugh and down the other side to the beach immediately across the water from the sandbanks where the seals hang out. I couldn't see any seals, but I could hear them cooing to each other. The tide was quite low, so I walked round the headland towards Saint Cuthbert's island. The sun was just breaking through a grey sky, tracing a faint silver path across the wet sands:
Photograph taken at 9.20 pm. The solstice is past; the nights are drawing in.
Please join me in meeting and greeting our latest Star Kit, Junsei. He is a 6 week old Tabby from Seattle.
Junsei was rescued, along with his sister, from the bushes of Seattle by a young couple unable to care for him. Sadly he and his sister were split up before he came to me. Junsei loves shoelaces, kitten milk, long naps and playing with anything that dangles: preferably earrings. He is a very smart young kitty and potty trained himself immediately. Since he’s so little, he often uses a meditation cushion as a landing pad when jumping off the bed.
So... from here to Wavre, the time of sunset is different this time of year but the time of sunrise is the same. And from here to Austin, the time of sunset is the same this time of year but the time of sunrise is different. But on the other solstice, it's the other way around - Austin and NYC share a sunrise time, Wavre and NYC share a sunset time.
There is some way this all makes sense, and I know I've had it explained to me before, but... I guess it didn't make enough sense. (It has something to do with how the sun appears to move in a figure 8?)
Semi-related, Mr. "How did they know it was noon?" reminded me of something. There is an algorithm to convert sundial time to clock time, and vice versa. Apparently, when mechanical clocks first became common, their time was considered inaccurate, and true time was sundial time. This is blindingly obvious the second you hear it explained, but it didn't occur to me until I happened to read it on Wikipedia while looking up common sundial mottoes. (It's later than you think!)
There must have been a middle period in there where the younger generation was chronically annoying the older generation by showing up for things at clock time when the older generation obviously meant real time.
The Deseret Alphabet, a 38-Letter Writing System Developed by Mormons
Pictures: Colored Honey Made by Candy-Eating French Bees (There's something to pointlessly engineer - flowers with multicolored nectar to make multicolored honey! If they think they can sell pink pineapples, colorful honey is sure to be a hit. And it won't be garbage, so it won't be gross.)
Census: US growing older and more racially diverse
The Mussels That Eat Oil
When the Bus Stop Button is Broken
Medieval medical books could hold the recipe for new antibiotics
Man sent home from work for wearing shorts in over 30°C heat comes back in a dress
Memory for stimulus sequences distinguishes humans from other animals
This ‘Indian Dr. Seuss’ Is Very Fond of Nonsense
How the Liberal Arts Help Veterans Thrive
Urban agriculture only provides small environmental benefits in northeastern US
Supreme Court Says You Can't Ban People From The Internet, No Matter What They've Done
People with disabilities at risk in Central African Republic
Abused children find Japan’s shelters provide little comfort
Desperate Venezuelans set sights on Colombia as worry mounts
Hundreds of Inmates Still Confined to Tent City During Phoenix Heat Wave
Former immigration detainees challenge labor practices
How Our Modern Lifestyles Perpetuate Slavery
War-torn Yemen to get cholera vaccines as death toll mounts
U.S. will take weapons from Kurds after Islamic State defeat: Turkey
If you do the same thing yourself, be warned - don't take your cake to the outside tables:
durham_rambler was very amused: "They're after your cake!"
"No," I said, "They're after your cake!"
They were quite fearless in pursuit of it, too:
But in the end, it was my cake that they got. I was laughing too much to defend it. This is not a criticism of the cake - the one corner I got was very good: but it was worth a slice of cake to sit back and watch the little birds mobbing it, and to feel the wind of their wings, and to watch the lone blackbird surveying them with an affronted air, clicking his beak impatiently (and audibly), as if wondering why they weren't giving way to his superior claim.
Theoretically. The air is about the temperature of boiling right now and the idea of actually setting foot on zoo grounds is not that tempting, really, even with the possibility of being personally disdained.
*throws up hands*
I started reading The Hanging Tree yesterday and I'm more than half done already, so that's something. It feels great to be reading a book I can't wait to return to.
We were going to Blists Hill which is a former heavy industrial site- coal and lead mining, clay extraction and iron and steel founding and brickmaking. Classic Midlands industrial complex.
It also has the remains of railways and the Shopshire Union Canal plus an inclined plane to get canal traffic down to the River Severn.
In more recent times, it's been turned into a living history museum with buildings slated for demolition being moved in to create a late Victorian town. The date placed on the town as seen is 1900.
As we walked through Madeley to get to Blists Hill we passed the King's Barn. This is now converted to dwellings but is one of the places King Charles II hid out after the disastrous Battle of Worcester (on his way to Boscobel -you may remember I posted from there a while back)
It's a very fine example of a Tudor barn indeed!
( More pics )
Also, be sure to do today's Google doodle. I could do that all day.
Cow herd behavior is fodder for complex systems analysis
Making Cents of Currency’s Ancient Rise
The Lion-Shaped Maps That United a Nation
African farmers’ kids conquer the marshmallow test
Summer solstice: the perfect day to bask in a dazzling scientific feat (First comment: "How did they know it was noon?" I can't even...)
Discovery could lead to sustainable ethanol made from carbon dioxide
She May Be The Most Unstoppable Scientist In The World
Dinosaurs got an evolutionary assist from huge volcanic eruptions
The Great Uprising: How a Powder Revolutionized Baking
Why the 'peculiar' stands out in our memory
Incredibly pictures of NYC when it was covered in farmland
'Human Project' study will ask 10,000 to share life's data
The App That Does Nothing
DNA reveals how cats achieved world domination
The ATU Fable Index: Like the Dewey Decimal System, But With More Ogres (I don't really care what happens in "Bunnies Beware of the King", but I'm more than a little perturbed that I can't even read the entire synopsis for 910J: Never plant a thorn tree.)
Chimps' cultural traditions extend beyond family
A Good News Story About Diarrhea — With One Surprising Exception
The Forgotten Trains of India (Photojournalism)
South Africa's District Six Cookbook Helps Preserve A Lost Community
Forever green: Cemeteries make more room for natural burials
Debate heats up over teaching climate change in US schools
Bosnian students keep up their protest against segregated schools
Afghan de-miners cling to hard but much-needed jobs
What Is the Point of Sean Spicer's Briefings? (I've got a question for Sean Spicer. "Do you know that you make yourself a laughingstock every time you hold one of these briefings? How much are you getting paid to shred your dignity to bits? Are you sure it's really worth it?" Damn, that's such a good question, rather than waiting for a journalist to ask it, I should send him a postcard. Or I could go traditional - "How do you sleep at night?" Postcards are cheap, I can send both questions.)
Iraqi forces advance on Mosul mosque where IS declared caliphate
What Is Putin Up To in Syria?
US interrogates detainees in Yemen prisons rife with torture
My hc_bingo card ( is under this cut )
At first glance I didn't see a whole lot of prompts there that work well with my usual-these-years fandom/ship, but on looking again, there are a few that I could theoretically do interesting things with, or that at least can be made to match WsIP that I expect to be on the shorter side if/when I can finish them. And my monofannishness aside, I do always hope that these challenges will twig something in my brain and let me write something new.
(Is this my first time getting an hc_bingo card that doesn't have one of the soulbond prompts? I haven't gone and checked to see if it's literally the first time, but the card generator has traditionally been very keen on giving me "unintended soulbond" and/or "unintended side effects of planned soulbond" [or whatever the exact phrasings are]. I always kinda meant to write the former for Warehouse 13; it could even happen someday. It's pretty perfect.)
And my seasonofkink card and Newsflesh-specific (inherently NSFW) notes ( are under THIS cut )
If you would be interested in joining a Discord server for fanfiction writers, please consider joining Metamorprose. The rules and policies are simple and accessible on the server itself and are displayed in a static location at metamorprose. A direct invite link can be found here: https://discord.gg/z3FHEYQ More information about Discord, what it is, and how to use the server are on the comm. Happy writing!