Nutmeg Apprentice, Yeah!

Those are the mis-heard words my kids sing to a Christmas song. It sounds like a jingle about a barista learning to spice the Polar Express hot chocolate. While dancing on the backs of the seats. I really should pen the rest of it.

But first, I have other projects.

Lone Wilderlands. I’ve always wanted a card game/tabletop RPG that can be played solo and is more portable than a book, but I’ve looked and looked and never found one. The mechanics of most RPGs don’t model physiology and psychology the way I’d like, either. So, I made my own. In the spring of 2018, I hope to have Lone Wilderlands: The Solo Sandbox RPG in a Cardbox available for purchase at TheGameCrafter.

SpaceBoots. My first young adult sci-fi is novel is complete. It’s currently on an editor’s desk at a publisher. Where exactly on that desk and under how big a pile, I don’t know. But how fun for Leo Jones and Hophnia Zimmerman! Maybe someday dozens millions hundreds of people will experience the heroes’ dual timeline misadventures in American middle schools and US Navy starships.

Fyrecon. I was recently invited to present at a three-day conference on writing and art in science fiction and fantasy. In June 2018, I’ll be teaching a workshop on Aerospace Medicine and perhaps a few other disease and pestilence things. It’s fun to dust off Mr. Dalton the high school biology teacher, and even more fun to spend time with writers.

Untitled Work in Progress. This one gets me really excited! I’m doing background reading for what I call frontier punk historical science-fiction. Did you know all the great scientists in history had bodyguards? No? They didn’t either…

So, that’s my Holiday Card to everyone: Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukah, Peaceful Solstice, Fab Festivus, Jolly Kwanzaa, and brilliant Boxing Day.

Did I forget anyone?

Oh. The nutmeg. Here it is in recipe context. Original lyrics by Isaiah, music by George Frederick Handel, and modifications by my offspring:

Hallelujah! Hallelujah! Hallelujah! Hallelujah!

For the Lord’s Nutmeg Apprentice, yeah!

But the Nutmeg Apprentice isn’t the best musical malapropism to come out of my house. According to my age 8 son, Boris Karloff describes the Grinch a little more harshly than Dr. Seuss intended:

You’re a three-decker sour crotch and toadstool sandwich.

Put that on a Holiday Card.

What if the Lorax was cold-blooded?

I'm remarkably well read for a reptile. Maya Angelou. ts eliot. Robert Frost.

Dr. Seuss.

The good Doctor hid his genius from the literary elite with silly meter and purposefully nonsensical words (as opposed to most humans' inadvertently nonsensical ones). Then he buried it like a hibernating terrapin in his comic strip illustrations. We commoners got it, though. If I had any wee ones, I'd read it all to them and they'd be better turtles for it. Thank you, Mr. Geisel.

Look! Sincere gratitude! My therapist will be so proud.

Problem is, those of the sapien persuasion get worked up over feel-good, warm fuzzy entertainment, and throw money after it with worshipful enthusiasm. The VISA credit card people know this well. So they helped bankroll the live-action Grinch and added their own tagline to advertisements. I swear I'm not making this up: 

“VISA. Just in case he's wrong.”

Invest. Distort. Profit.

Here's another favorite. I worry about this one, also. It's number two on the Ectotherm Readers List, right behind Yertle the Turtle. Though dark and ominous with one sliver of hope on the last page, The Lorax is brilliant. I think it's because of the dark and ominous contrast to everything else Seuss.

In theaters March 2^nd. Here we go again. But first, a word from our sponsor.

How long has it been?

I, the Once-ler ask when

you last thought to think of a Thneed?

Oh, such a shame,

and I take all the blame

for the tree-mess stuck firm to my name.

But again there's a need

at the mall in South Shreeds

for more of my high thread-count Thneeds.

But I learned. These new Thneeds

aren't from truffula trees,

instead they are fashioned from cheese.

Cheese made by bees, the great Bizzery Bees,

For Bizzery Bees work cheap as you please

and send all the Thneeds from Zizzer Zar Zees.

The shade of the truffula,

that's where I'll be seen.

So plant one or two,

just don't change your routine.

Remodel your house

and drive a new car.

Make certain your food

comes from far Far Balar.

Trade money for stuff.

Fancy shiny fluff stuff.

And never you worry if there's not enough.

That online teasler

of the city post-Once-ler?

It was happy and bright

and a sparkling sight

with houses and streets set just right.

It seems the old Lorax,

as we know in Woodholly,

he fooled Dr. Seuss

in his tottering folly,

to paint my Thneed-making with gray melancholy.

Great books can have flaws we must fix for the screen,

especially for kids whose minds aren't too keen

Still, get back those trees,

right away if you please,

to better what our home appraiser next sees.

In all it's glow glory,

here's the real Lorax story.

Shiny and flashing

with 3D so dashing.

For who needs in their head

Seuss's silly goose dread?

Here's mass-marketed opiate for masses instead.



The Lorax and I agree on ONE thing though. Go Mazda!

News from Lake Woebegone

I hope you will all pardon my self-indulgence. It's not often a girl is asked to do an interview with a major fashion magazine. Especially one exhibiting the epitome of panache from one end of Duluth, Minnesota to the Saskatchewan border.

My debut with the Eveleth Elle:

EE: Shelly - can I call you Shelly?
SBT: That's my name.
EE: Good. I hoped this could be a first-name basis, up-close and personal talk.
SBT: Okay, but only if you brushed your teeth.
EE: (Laughs) Well, we were overwhelmed by the followers of your blog among our readership. They were urging us to find out more about you.
SBT: Both of them?
EE: Three, actually.
SBT: Hmm. I'll have to check my site again. Number three, whomever you are, welcome!
So, what do you want to know? I'm a Zodiac atheist. I like long walks under logs and couches, and eating long earthworms with handsome men Lady-and-the-Tramp style.

EE: The big question everyone keeps asking involves the rumors of getting in front of the camera.
SBT: Liked those Valentine's cards, did you?

EE: No no no no. The children's book rumors! Stop being so modest.
SBT: I guess I'm the last to know. Fill me in.

EE: Ooh! I get to dish the good stuff?
SBT: Come on, who's the author? What's the illustration style? What's the subtle political agenda I'll be pushing?

EE: That much I don't know, but if you were making all those decisions, what would be the result?

SBT: That's a shallow dish, girl. Result? Newberry award. Twice in a row.

EE: Okay, but before that.
SBT: You want names? Hmm. Unfortunately Dr. Seuss has passed. He did nice work with Yertle. And he could pick a meter and stick to it. That's an unfortunate rare skill in children's literature. But poetry's not really my thing. Maybe Oscar the Grouch as author. I think he's a mammal, but he sure doesn't let it show.

EE: So you want an author-illustrator team?
SBT: Two perspectives, you know? To capture the feel of dual monocular vision.

EE: I don't know what that means... but go on.
SBT: This is a tough decision. Bill Watterson is out, though.

EE: Too hard to contact? Too expensive?
SBT: No, I want him to voice the audio version. Who doesn't want to hear him impersonate Calvin's Dad?

EE: I think that reference must predate me...
SBT: I'd need time to choose between Mercer Mayer, Maurice Sendak, and Fumi Kosaka, since Michelangelo is dead.

EE: Now there's a group of illustrators. What about that guy that did Poky Little Puppy?
SBT: Um, really? Didn't you see how cute those puppies were? He even made the lizard adorable. I wanted to see the black spider, but some moron editor cut that illustration out.

EE: That's true. What was he thinking, removing a black hairy arachnid picture from a baby book.
SBT: Now you are making me hungry. You're buying lunch right?