dawn_felagund: (morgoth)
Important ETA: Over the past few days, I have been in correspondence with other Tolkien archive admins and the abuse team on AO3. It seems that my initial fears that this incident was "bigger than us" were well-founded. This person has been found on several Tolkien archives (although they don't seem to have posted as widely anyplace but the SWG) and may be linked with a chronic plagiarist on AO3 and ff.net. That makes vigilance more important than ever for all of us. Readers, if you see a story on an archive that looks familiar but isn't by the author you recall writing it, please say something to an admin. It is worth pointing out that we were able to catch and quash this person on the SWG as quickly as we did because we had several members who saw something that didn't look right and reported it. Finally, many, many thanks to everyone who has spread the word. I know it's been a lot of you. (This post was in the LJ Top 25 for a while!) /ETA

As some of you already know, we recently had a major incident of plagiarized work being posted to the Silmarillion Writers' Guild. Given what my comoderators and I discovered during our investigation, I have reason to believe that this is not an isolated incident on our site alone, nor is this person confining their activities to the Tolkien fandom. I have contacted the authors whose work was stolen, and my comods and I have also reached out to the admins of other Tolkien archives (MPTT, Faerie, SoA, OSA, and NaN*) and the abuse team on AO3 to share our findings.

*I couldn't find a contact address for LOTRfanfiction.com, if there is even an active admin on that site anymore. If anyone has one, I'll forward my findings there as well. ETA that Keith has been brought into the loop ...

I am sharing this information publicly here with the intention that it be shared with other admins and authors. Please feel free to link, share, and repost any of the information here. You don't have to ask. I don't care if you credit me (although doing so is probably practical so that anyone with questions about our findings can contact me directly). The important thing in my mind is making sure that this person is shut down before they can do more harm and empowering both admins and authors to do so. If your actions are done with that goal in mind, trust I am going to be cool with it.

A brief summary of what is going on:
  • Multiple accounts were used on the SWG to post plagiarized stories. These stories were stolen from multiple authors.

  • The person or persons behind this was/were responsive to feedback from our moderation team concerning what was allowable on our archive and actually exchanged emails with me on a couple of occasions. They were clearly not part of the Silmarillion fandom (I'm fairly certain they don't even know what The Silmarillion is) and may not be familiar with fandom and fanfic at all. But they were good enough at impersonation that it took us two weeks to catch on to them.

  • They appear to be stealing stories mostly from AO3 and Fanfiction.net. However, there is evidence that they are stealing from other sites as well, and we know for a fact that they have started their shenanigans on OSA. (We've contacted the OSA admin.)

  • They appear to be stealing primarily stories that are recently posted or updated. Again, however, this is not 100% the case.

  • They were insistent of their innocence, even after we found overwhelming evidence to the contrary. I don't know the motivation behind that; it doesn't appear that they were invested particularly in the works they had posted but seem to have selected them somewhat at random.

A version of this post has also been posted to the Stop Plagiarism community on LJ and is in the queue to be reviewed by a moderator.

ETA ... it is now also posted on Tumblr.

What Happened )

Screencaps and Links )

Summary of Usernames, Emails, and IPs )
dawn_felagund: (alex loves)
Bobby and I typically refer to Golden puppies as loaves of bread because they are roughly the size of a decently proportioned homemade loaf and similar in color. Since Guinevere is 11 weeks old--Alex and Lance were both 9 weeks when we brought them home--then she's quite a bit bigger than a loaf. We were adrift for a few days, not knowing what to call her. We'd sort of gesture her proportions with our hands like we'd do for the loaf of bread but bigger. But we didn't have a word to go with it. Eventually, I started calling her the miche, after the extra-large loaves one can buy at Panera Bread.

Well, we picked up the miche after work today. More! Including pictures, of course!! Of the miche. )
dawn_felagund: (alex awww)
I am briefly coming off of hiatus to share some big news.

About a year and a half ago, Bobby and I went with friends to a local ciderworks. On the way back, we passed a house in Hampstead (next town south) that had a pen of Golden Retriever puppies playing in the front yard. Well, by the time we'd driven past three times, the owners noticed us and waved to us, like, "Stop being creepy and just stop and ask to see our puppies!"

We were not looking for a third dog--three big dogs adds all kinds of logistical challenges--but we liked the breeders and took a card and promised to give them a call if ever we were looking to add another Golden.

Three dogs was too many, but we do like to keep two. We like that they are able to be companions to each other when we aren't home, which is an unfortunate but necessary effect of being married professionals. We had talked about when we'd like to get a new dog and decided on the spring. And we'd call the breeders in Hampstead first when we did. Their website made clear that they breed one litter each spring, so the timing should be perfect.

This was solid enough in our minds that Bobby called them the other day to see if we could make a deposit to reserve a puppy from their next spring litter. A, lo and behold, due to work schedules, they weren't able to have a litter last spring, so they had one in the fall instead.

They had one puppy left, a little girl, light golden (like Alex, not Phil, who is red). We went to see her yesterday. I don't think it's possible for us to see a Golden Retriever puppy and resist it. We knew the outcome. I even joked to the owners when they asked if we had any ideas for names that I'd suggested "Maybe" and had then taken it right back because we knew the answer wasn't going to be maybe.

So Guinevere Estel will be coming home with us next Monday. This weekend, we are in Ocean City for a teaching convention (really! I swear! even though all the classes are in the morning so yes we will have to figure out something to do with the afternoons and evenings ...). She was born on August 1, so she is a little over ten weeks old. We didn't know her birthday at first, and the day Bobby found out she was ready was the eight-week mark of losing Alex, so that meant she could have been born on the day we lost him. I'm ... kind of glad she wasn't. As poetic as it sounds in theory, it actually hurts quite a bit in reality. As you will see from the pictures (of course there will be pictures!), she is a pudgy puppy like Phil, not tiny and emaciated like poor Alexander was. She is playful and friendly (also not like Alex! the carpet alligator!! I often say he was the cutest puppy I've ever seen but also the most awful in terms of behavior. He had no socialization prior to coming to us, it seems.)

It's funny: We've had three Goldens now, all obtained under unplanned circumstances. All were from litters of nine and were the last to be adopted.

We debated at length over the name. Bobby initially suggested Guinevere (Gwen for everyday use), but I shot it down right away, since she is a character in literature that I've never felt much connection to. We went through literature and mythology. It's a lot harder to name a girl using that method than a boy. We were between Cassiopea (Cassie for everyday--my preference) and Estel (Bobby's preference), which oddly were suggested by the opposite person who preferred them. Finally, driving home today, we revisited Guinevere and decided that there was a lot to like about the name, mostly that we liked the name Gwen and could imagine calling a dog in from the backyard using that name. (One of the main reasons that Lancelot became Phil over time! And one of the main reasons that I didn't prefer Estel.) So Gwen it is.

Phil went with us and met Gwen and ... wasn't thrilled. Phil likes exactly one other dog: Alex. But he has learned to adjust to about a dozen dogs of friends, family, and neighbors who end up sharing his house and yard periodically. He even learned to live with a cat for a while. (He really wasn't happy about that.) So he'll adjust and maybe, I hope, even learn to like her over time? At least a little?

This is much sooner than expected but we've gone with the circumstances with both Alex and Phil and ended up with beloved pets both time, so we think we're doing right now too. And we really can't resist a Golden puppy ... :)

Meet Gwen ... )
dawn_felagund: (unicorn)
Those who read the SWG newsletter or follow me on Tumblr know that I have officially started my hiatus for my thesis. I won't be on social media and will even *gasp!* be closing out my email while I'm working so that I can avoid the bad habit of popping in every five minutes to see if there is anything new.

I am definitely reachable on email, so if you want to tell me something, please do email me. :)

My most excellent comods will be taking over my responsibilities for the next few months on my various fandom projects. Russa put together the SWG newsletter this month. It was the first time in ten years that I didn't do it! I feel like a new parent leaving a child with a babysitter for the first time with all my little finicky instructions and comments. (I hope I wasn't too annoying!) Even though I know they will do a wonderful job, it's just strange that something that has been a daily part of my life will for over a decade now will get on without me for a few months! I'll still be getting auto-forwards but trying not to answer them! Let's see how I do!

So ... I'll see everyone in March then! <3
dawn_felagund: (alex awww)
When I first purchased my video camera, I practiced using it by taking lots of little videos of the Goldens just being the Goldens. Now that Alex is gone, I am so glad that I did.

I pulled these videos off my school laptop the other day to save them on Dropbox. This one is probably my favorite. In 2013, the Ravens went to (and won) the Super Bowl. We took the Goldens to a party for the AFC Championships over my inlaws' house. I took this video the next morning, when I couldn't even get them off the couches to go outside.

Alex always had a very expressive face and a way of looking and acting that sometimes made you feel like he understood a lot of what you were saying. The dirty looks he gives me in this video as I immortalize his laziness are priceless.

Phil is in it too, curled in a tiny ball on the couch. Unlike Alex, Phil couldn't care less that I was filming him.
dawn_felagund: (pawprints)
As I noted in my last post, we decided to bring Alex home and bury him in the yard. Bobby and I started digging the grave on Thursday. It was slow going because our soil is a mixture of clay and rock. Bobby picked, and I shoveled. We got about two feet down before the thunderstorm creeping up out of the west started throwing visible lightning, and we decided to call it a day.

Friday, we picked him up at the ER clinic. Read more... )
dawn_felagund: (alex awww)
We had to put Alex down last night.

I know. We were just celebrating his biopsy results coming back negative for any cancerous cells. And the second opinion confirmed that.

Yesterday morning, when we woke up, Alex was a little under the weather. But he has never been a morning person, and he had played hard with Bobby the night before, so we chalked it up to him being a little worn out. But when we came home from work, he was very obviously lethargic, and when we checked his gums, they were gray, suggesting that he was bleeding again inside. (He had gotten his color back to the extent that even his grandparents commented on how pink his tongue was when he was panting at Mackey's last week!) His breathing was also a little labored, and he was using his abdominal muscles to draw breath.

We took him to the Pet ER, and the vet, suspecting that one of the lesions on his liver was hemorrhaging like his spleen had hemorrhaged, recommended an ultrasound. She found no free fluid in his belly, but on a hunch, took a look at his heart, and his pericardium was full of fluid. She explained that she was 95% certain that he had a hemangiosarcoma on his pericardium that had ruptured and was filling his pericardium with blood. The biopsy likely came back negative because the tissue in his spleen had deteriorated so badly that even the cancerous cells weren't able to live in it anymore. Basically, his whole body was riddled with cancer.

There is nothing--NOTHING--that can be done for hemangiosarcoma on the heart. There is no medical or surgical solution to prolong his life. Since he was hemorrhaging into his pericardium, his time was very limited, and as she explained, could quickly deteriorate to where he died badly during the night. (I asked if we could take him home for one last night and have Dr. Baker do his euthanasia the next day, but she said that there was a significant risk that he would deteriorate rapidly in just a few hours.) And we did see him deteriorate even in the two hours we were at the vet with him.

My parents were in Atlantic City, but my inlaws, Amiah, and Erin came to the ER, and he was so happy to see them. He lifted his head and wagged his tail each time, and he even stood up for his Aunt Erin. You could almost see in his face the surprised delight that everyone came unexpected to see him! So he was peaceful and happy when the time came. (Which is why I didn't want to euthanize him at the ER if we could avoid it, because he understandably hates it there, and I didn't want him to be distressed when he died.) We surrounded him for about a half-hour and petted him and laughed over our memories of him and how he used to walk Grandmom around the apartment complex when we lived in Ellicott City and try to eat napkins that he found on the ground and pull pieces off the Christmas tree, and all the other stuff he used to do that made him Alex.

This is really hard. I have loved and lost pets before, but I have never loved a pet like I loved Alex, and I don't know if I will again. He was not a typical Golden. He was very intelligent and willful, and he did things on his terms. I always felt like he and I were cut from the same cloth, like we were truly Wallses in our manners and personalities. There was always friction between us because he would intentionally do things to irritate me for attention (I definitely irritated him too, since I would tickle his ears and feet), or I would want him to do something one way, and he had to do it on his terms, but I understood and connected to him like I never have before with a pet. Three weeks ago, when he went in for his spleen, I began to prepare for this possibility, but now that it's come, I still find myself surprised by the spaces in my life where he should have been, where I never thought to miss him and now find him gone.

We are so grateful for the time we had with him. A lot of pets with hemangiosarcoma die so suddenly that their people come home to find them dead. Or the situation could have been reversed, and the tumor on his heart might have ruptured first, and we would not have had the last three wonderful weeks with him, in which he seemed like a dog half his age, if only for a short while.

I am, as many know, getting ready to write my thesis in October. As those who work with me on fandom projects know, I am in the process of preparing those projects for my four months off. I feel like this is the moment when I am beginning to step back. I am probably not going to be around as much till my thesis is done. This does not mean that I am unavailable, and anyone who wants/needs to talk to me knows where to find me, and I am happy to hear from people, just not sure I'm quite up to being my usual hyper-energized self right now, at least socially. I hope you all know how much you mean to me and that my silence is not from lack of care or interest but because I'm coming up on an intense part of my life, and I feel very frail right now.

Alex is still at the ER. We have decided to bury him at home, so we are waiting to hear from Miss Utility so that we can choose a site and begin to dig, and the clinic will hold his body until then. He will be well provided with grave goods, and we are going to have a wake to celebrate his life. Anyone who lives in the area will be invited. I will post here when I have a date.
dawn_felagund: (out of the light star)
... but Alex's biopsy came back benign.

The pathology lab is seeking a second opinion, but they tested four 2-cm sections of his spleen and found nary an abnormal cell. They were supposed to call Monday, and we were wondering why we hadn't heard from them but unwilling to call while on vacation.

I got an email and a call from Bobby as soon as I arrived at work, while my students were drifting in to homeroom, and had to close myself in my closet because I was crying. I didn't dare hope for this.
dawn_felagund: (black-eyed susan)
As seen at Oshun and Rhapsody ...

A clean house is a sign of a wasted life ... )
dawn_felagund: (silmarils)
I want to thank everyone who sent me a birthday card for the SWG's 10th birthday. I was very generously treated and am grateful for each and every one. Quite a few had heartfelt messages that made me wubble hard and that I will cherish for a long, long time.

As a result of putting this together*, I am hella behind on pretty much everything else fannish, so if you are waiting on me for an email reply, a beta, archive stuff ... I'm huffing and puffing but slowly catching up! In addition to Alex (who is doing extremely well, though we are still waiting on biopsy results), things have been pretty heavy at work recently. I feel like my time has been crunched down to fit into a jack-in-the-box and springs out at random to bop me in the nose; I am back to waking up in a panic periodically, convinced that I've left something undone. (I have! Many things!) This weekend is pretty empty except for a hafla on Sunday, so I should have everything set to rights very soon.

*And, yes, a few people have asked: I did do my own birthday card album! :D That was my modly job, to upload the cards to Photobucket as they came in. Trust me, it did not diminish the joy I felt to receive such lovely cards and messages, and I pretended yesterday like I hadn't seen them all already and went through and looked at them again. My comods even set up an email for me, so I even got an email with a password like everyone else. ;) And Russa did use her mod access to sneak one past the form, so I did get a bit of a surprise!

It's hard to express how much the SWG and the people in this community mean to me. Starting this group was life-changing, and I don't mean that I spend a lot more time than I would have otherwise using Notepad to write code or debating the finer points of copyright law with my obliging comods. I mean that, before fandom and before the SWG, I did not take my writing or my love of language seriously. I forced myself onto any path but the one I secretly longed for, where books and writing and words were the chief delight.

I mean that I would not be a teacher, would not be working with at-risk kids, would not be a grad student in humanities, would not be starting to publish my scholarly work (would not have scholarly work) without the people in this community. I have been so generously treated over the years by people who have pushed me to see myself differently. To recognize my value in this world, which I was honestly struggling to do when, bored at an unrewarding job that I took only because I didn't know what I truly wanted to do with myself, I began to write Another Man's Cage and not long after set up the SWG. I sometimes worry that I can never repay the kindness and generosity with which I have been treated. The SWG is an attempt to do so, to create a version of the way I was myself treated, in hopes that others might continue to find their voices through the humble mode of fanfic. I am sometimes terrified when I imagine what life would have been like if I'd never discovered fandom, never started writing AMC, never founded the SWG because, for all my grumbling and complaining--some of it petty, some of it very legit--I am so happy in my life and am doing what I love and want to do for as long as I can do it, fighting the good fight to change the fact that "everyone speaks but few are heard."

So I am grateful to you all for what you've done for me over the years. And I am saying that to those of you who sent me a card and those of you who didn't but have been a part of the fandom, the SWG, and my life for these last ten years.

Thank you.
dawn_felagund: (alex eek)
What it says on the tin!

We picked up Alex this afternoon at 5:30. He came out with the tech, straining at the leash, his four paws skidding on the floor in his eagerness to go with us. He looks 100 times better than even yesterday. He spent the whole ride home with his head stuck between the seats, watching the road in front of us, which is his favorite way to ride in the car, with prolonged sessions of resting his head on Bobby's or my shoulder, thus making him the world's coolest pirate!parrot.

In the car, right after leaving the hospital.

 photo home-from-er1_zpsk7aa33dn.jpg

At home, Phil was over the moon to see him. Poor Phil has been a little lost soul without his brother. He ran out into the yard yesterday to bark at someone in the street and then stopped halfway, like, "Where's my brother?? I can't do this without Alex!" (Alex does most of the barking.) He has mostly been laying on the patio, chewing on rocks, like he's not sure how to play without Alex, but he has not spent more than a few hours away from Alex since he we brought him home at nine weeks, so he really isn't sure how to play without Alex. Phil dislikes every other dog he's ever met except Alex, who is in a privileged Alex-only category.

It didn't take long after returning home, though, before Alex was sound asleep. This is him during dinnertime clean-up. He didn't even notice when I plopped a big spoonful of poached egg whites from the cookpot into his bowl. (Normally, that is his favorite, and he hangs around underfoot whenever eggs are being made.)

 photo home-from-er2_zpsp0usukzc.jpg

The little orange football and Phil are in the background. :)

So he is on limited activity for the next two weeks. (He already tried to take off after a squirrel once before being abruptly stopped by the leash.) That means leashed yard access only, and we will be watching Amazon videos on the computer upstairs rather than in the basement so that he avoids the steps.

Thank you to everyone for your kind words and thoughts over the past few [very rough] days. We are still very much in the woods, but we are happy to have Alex home again. I told Alex that he has a cheering section that stretches across the world. I think he knows. :)
dawn_felagund: (alex loves)
After last night's very bleak post, I have some good news.

(You see, I cannot resist for long. For all my grousing and cynicism, in my heart of hearts, I remain an unrepentant pie-eyed optimist.)

Alex is still at the hospital. Bobby and I visited him for about an hour this afternoon. We were expecting that he would be doped up and perhaps immobile and we'd have to visit him in the kennel, but we were put in a room and a tech brought in a blanket, followed by Alex. We were told to take as long as we wanted.

When Bobby spoke to the vet this morning, Alex's red blood count had continued to drop, and they were on the verge of giving him a transfusion if it dropped any further. (During surgery last night, a liter of blood was removed from his abdominal cavity; even the vet expressed surprise that he'd bled so much.) He also hadn't eaten.

Thankfully, his blood count has stabilized, so he still has not required a transfusion. As soon as he came in ... well, he looked rough, but he just endured major abdominal surgery. He was mobile, though, and developed a small spring in his step when he saw us. Bobby hand-fed him some of the bland diet the tech left with us, and Alex ate it, although reluctantly. We took him out for a short walk, and he even cranked up his pace to a light trot. When we got back in, he ate more of his bland diet on his own and drank some water. He laid down and went to sleep while Bobby and I scratched him all over his body.

They had shaved his left foreleg all the way around to accommodate the IV, which meant that they shaved off part of his cowboy fringe! (The long feathers on the backs of his forelegs that look like the fringe on cowboy chaps.) His belly was shaved--they even shaved his penis!--and his incision runs from his groin to midway up his abdomen and is held closed with staples. I asked him what was worse: that they shaved his penis or his cowboy fringe. He was more upset about the cowboy fringe. I pointed out that he sometimes pees on his cowboy fringe. That, he pointed out, was his own choice of how to use his own cowboy fringe. The IV didn't go in the back of his leg, so the cowboy fringe could have been left untouched. Whatever, Alex!

At this point, it is looking like he will be home tomorrow.

As for his long-term prognosis: A sample from the tumor on his spleen will, of course, be sent off for testing. So we will know whether it is malignant (I am almost certain it is) and whether it is the particularly aggressive form of cancer so common to Goldens. (Again: almost certain it is.) BUT--the glimmer of hope since yesterday--Bobby and I have since heard from several people whose dogs were diagnosed with the same cancer, who underwent chemotherapy, and went on to live for several years of good life. (Because that is always my caveat: the life must be worth living. I will not keep him sick and suffering because of our inability to let go. But chemo in dogs is apparently not awful like it is in people.) The hospital where he is now also has several oncologists on staff, so we will get a referral to see one of them once the results of the biopsy is back. We have already started talking with the ER vets about setting that up.

(Once again: I am so grateful that we have been paying all these years into good insurance for both Alex and Lance. Bobby called the insurance company this morning, and Alex's surgery and any further oncology treatments he needs will be fully covered. The vet we spoke to this afternoon was relieved to hear that he had insurance and said she wished more pets did. It is sad to think how many animals are put down for reasons of cost who might otherwise survive.)

When we left, he was distressed to see us go. That is the worst part: that you cannot explain to them that you will be back, that they are not being abandoned. They did let him take his orange football back to his kennel with him, so I hope that will be a little reminder of home and that he will be returning there with us, and soon.

Here he is, from our visit today, looking at a little rough but pretty good, all things considered:

 photo photo 2_zpsra3sol1a.jpg

 photo photo 1_zpsuw8my0fg.jpg
dawn_felagund: (alex say what)
I started this cute entry about my students at work today and now find I cannot post it because I find myself 180 degrees from where I was those eight hours ago. We received some very bad news about Alex today. About two weeks ago, he woke up one morning, very lethargic and holding his body like he was sore in his tummy. Bobby called his vet and managed to get an afternoon appointment, but by the time the afternoon rolled around, Alex was fine again. Today, it happened again. Our vet didn't have any appointments available but referred us to a vet in Westminster, so we took him in as soon as I got home from work.

At first, she could find nothing wrong with him. But he was clearly exhausted and wouldn't even stand up when we pretended to leave and call him. She checked his gums and noticed they were a little pale, so she recommended bloodwork and some X-rays, just to be on the safe side and since he was clearly unwell. We usually can't get Alex to sit down at the vet; now we couldn't get him to stand up.

It's a good thing that she recommended the tests because the bloodwork showed he was slightly anemic, and the X-ray suggested internal bleeding. She inserted a needle into his abdomen, and it immediately filled with blood. She began calling around to emergency vet offices to get him in for more tests and observation. We ended up in Towson because the Carroll County Animal ER had already had one emergency surgery tonight and wasn't sure they had enough blood if he needed a transfusion.

Long story short, an ultrasound at the Towson ER showed a mass on his spleen that had ruptured, causing the internal bleeding. The ER vet explained that a particularly aggressive form of cancer, common in Goldens, often causes blood vessel-rich tumors to form on the liver and spleen. They rupture and cause internal bleeding. They also spread fast, and once they begin to metastasize, dogs generally have 3 to 6 months to live. Our two options were to have his spleen removed or put him down. The ultrasound showed no lesions on his liver or anywhere but his spleen, and his bloodwork was good aside from the slight anemia. He has insurance, so the cost of the surgery was no object, so we chose the first.

On our way home, the vet called from the OR: He had multiple masses on his spleen, and she also spotted two smaller lesions on his liver. She gave us the option to complete the surgery and see how things went, or we could have him put down in surgery. Of course, we chose the first.

I remember like it was yesterday when we first brought him home when he was a baby. I remember what he felt like when I held him in my arms. He was small--too small--and infested with fleas and sick with Lyme disease. He slept constantly, curled in my arms on next to me on the couch. This is too soon to think of his life ending when I still remember it beginning so vividly. You know you will very likely outlive your pets, but he is only eight years old. I thought of us only halfway through our journey together, and now it seems very likely we are at the end.

Throughout the night, Bobby and I looked for every glimmer of hope and kept it as our polestar. Now we are to the point of hoping he recovers quickly enough that we can keep him comfortable and happy and enjoy what time we have left with him. This is too effing soon. Please think good thoughts for my Alex and be patient and kind with me. We both need it.

ETA: The vet just called. Alex is awake after surgery. She said he was remarkably spry for a dog that just had major surgery. We will be able to visit him tomorrow. He will probably come home Wednesday.

Fight, Alex, fight.
dawn_felagund: (feanor fall)
Okay, at long last, I am sharing the video of my presentation at the New York Tolkien Conference here. The full title (which will not fit in the space allotted for titles) is "The Loremasters of Fëanor: Historical Bias in the Works of J.R.R. Tolkien and Transformative Works." It discusses both the evidence for historical bias in Tolkien's works (especially The Silmarillion) and how the fan community uses that bias to create fanworks.

You won't be able to see the data and other visual aids on the screen behind me. That data (as well as a detailed synopsis of the paper) is available on my blog The Heretic Loremaster.

Also, a friendly reminder that The Heretic Loremaster does have a feed set up on both LJ and DW at [syndicated profile] heretic_lore_feed. Following this feed will bring new HL posts directly to your flist. Because my journal has come to be just that--a journal--it is usually the last place that I bring fannish stuff; however, I know a lot of people who friended me here did so because of our shared fandom involvement, so if you miss seeing that stuff here, the HL feed might help a bit. (Just a bit because it is infrequently updated thanks to my grad school schedule!) Also, please remember that I have no ownership or control over this feed, which means that I don't receive comments left on feed posts. Please comment directly on the posts themselves; no membership is required to do so.

The paper will eventually be available to read but I need to clean up citations first. If you don't mind my sloppy sourcing and want a copy early, just let me know.
dawn_felagund: Skeleton embracing young girl (skeleton black sails)
Bobby of got-a-perfect-score-on-his-Outdoor-Emergency-Care test has been, not surprisingly, drafted into becoming an instructor with Ski Patrol. As a result, he has been teaching parts of classes at the most recent Outdoor Emergency Care class on Friday nights. We grab a snack on the way home, he goes to class, and when class is over, we meet somewhere in Westminster for a very late dinner. Since his class is an hour south in Rockville, he takes the Yaris, and I drive the truck to meet him.

Over the winter, we had some problems with the battery in the truck. It was supposedly "new," but who knows if it actually was. Used car dealers and all that. Since the weather warmed, we haven't had any problems.

Bobby is also working to establish a nano-reef tank. It is right next to the couch where I sit and work on the the computer. On Friday nights, I take up my post and put my phone on the aquarium stand so that it's on hand when he calls, and I don't have to worry about it sliding off the arm of the couch.

Last night, he called, and I got up to get ready because I was still in gym clothes, and I left my phone on the aquarium stand. I started down the hill toward Westminster, and the gas light came on in the truck. I hadn't even realized it was so low or I would have stopped after the gym. So I turned into town instead of toward Westminster when I got to the bottom of the hill to stop at the Sheetz in town. It is overpriced and the parking lot is weird and someone was busted for having a brothel out back when we first moved here, but hey, when you're desperate, it's better than walking a few miles for a gas can. And I figured it would only make me five minutes late for meeting Bobby.

I have never put gas in the truck before and couldn't find the release for the gas door, so I had to look it up in the owner's manual. (Only to discover that there is no release!) So I had the interior lights on, plus my headlights, while sitting at the pump doing this. Then I put in 10 gallons of gas, which took a few minutes. You might see where this is going.

I got back in the truck and went to start it. clickclickclickclickclick ... NOTHING. I may have then said a few four-letter words of Anglo-Saxon origin. I thought, well maybe because the gas had been so low, it needed fuel in the lines, so I pumped the pedal a few times and tried again. Nothing. The thought never crossed my mind about the battery because I couldn't imagine that the few minutes I'd had the lights on while reading the manual could have drained it.

So I went in my purse and guess what? No phone because, of course, the phone was still on the aquarium stand at home.

By this time, Bobby was probably arriving in Westminster. All I could think about was him worrying over me. I wouldn't show, he'd call, and I wouldn't answer my phone. Eventually, he'd go home, and I wouldn't be there either. He'd never think to look at Sheetz because we use that gas station maybe three times a year.

At this point, my options started to look like a decision tree, and I was down amid the leaf rot at the roots. I could see two options: 1) I could maybe find someone in the gas station who would loan me their phone, or maybe the gas station would let me use their phone, or maybe they even still had one of those dinosaurs of communication, a pay phone, on premises. Or 2) I could run the mile or so uphill back home and maybe get there when Bobby did.

The first seemed the better option. Only I don't have Bobby's cell number memorized. Brilliant thought: I'll call my parents! Even if they don't answer, I'll leave a message, and maybe they'll get it and be able to contact Bobby!

Except that my parents are in Vegas right now.

So I started to riffle through first the glove compartment, then my wallet, looking for anything with a phone number on it. I found insurance information and an old prescription from one of Bobby's injuries. Both had our address but no phone number. I started on old service receipts, hoping they had maybe recorded a contact number. Meanwhile, I'd started some honest-to-goodness Positive Self Talk about the possibility of running home. "Dawn, you can do it. You're strong and in good shape. It's all uphill, and yes, that will be a bitch, but this is why you go to the gym!" (It's not, but you're allowed some little white lies during Positive Self Talk.) "Yes, you are wearing slip-on Toms shoes, and your feet will get torn up, but your feet get torn up regularly on account of being shaped oddly anyway, so that's nothing new, and you'll be fine; it won't hurt while you're doing it! They'll be mostly healed in time for Ocean City next weekend!" I was worrying very hard about Bobby worrying about me. I didn't even dare look at my watch to see how late I was.

And then a guy walked up and asked if I needed help starting the truck. Cue tempered relief. The problem wasn't solved yet but maybe ...

He told me to try to start the truck again. He said it sounded like the battery or the starter. I'm glad he knew! I started hoping for battery; that we could solve here. He said he'd try to jump-start it and see if that worked, so he drove his truck over (of course he drove a truck! white knights in Carroll County always drive trucks!) and we had a good laugh over the series of unfortunate events that had placed me in this predicament.

And the jump-start worked.

I thanked him about a dozen times, and he said, "No problem. If it was me, I'd hope someone would do the same." Remind me of this when I'm rolling my eyes at my fellow county citizens.

I well exceeded the speed limit driving home, and as I ran into the house and picked up my phone from the aquarium stand, it rang in my hand as Bobby called me for the umpteenth time. He had just left, fearing I'd broken down on the road and knowing me well enough to know that I'd probably forgotten my phone.

Moral of the story: He picked me up and we had an even later dinner than usual. And we're getting a new battery for the truck.
dawn_felagund: (out of the light star)
As word of Baltimore's troubles becomes national and now international news, people are starting to contact me, so I'm going to start by saying that Bobby and I are fine. We live about an hour northwest of where the worst of the violence and rioting is taking place. I am in school right now; almost no students are here (14--the attendance list just came in), since City schools closed today. Social media is reporting that there will be a riot at Security Square Mall, which is about a mile from my school. That is the closest it should come to either of us. (And my school is in a business park, not a commercial district, so no, I don't think there is much risk of any chaos at Security reaching us. Hopefully, they will preemptively close the mall today as they did Mondawmin Mall yesterday and Towson Town Center last night, due to similar social media activity.)

I thank everyone for your thoughts and concerns. Please think of my students, many of whom do live in the areas affected (and many of whom will get themselves embroiled with the chaos).

We were supposed to have a field day today, but that has been canceled due to the potential violence at Security.

Huffington Post has a good article summarizing everything so far. Some of the pictures are staggering. I am bitterly disappointed that yet again an opportunity for peaceful protest and constructive dialogue has been hijacked by a spectacle of violence and chaos, but the picture of the woman "looting" a CVS for diapers? Does kind of say it all.

The short version: a young African American man, Freddie Gray, died in Baltimore City Police custody after suffering a broken spine and trachea. His family pleaded for peace, and there were peaceful protests this weekend, but you know that if any city was going to turn up, it would be Baltimore. As I said, I am disappointed that the chance to turn attention and possibly inspire change on the very real problem of racial bias and brutality among U.S. police departments (and the BCPD is a very well known offender) will instead turn into gawking once again at the chaos. I've been talking to my students about what is going on; I can assure you that what motivates what is going on in Baltimore as I write this is not rage at injustice or a desire for change. As one student told me this morning, watching the riots on TV last night, he thought it "looked fun." I've been trying to talk with them to help them see the social justice issues that are at the heart of this--and we read MLK's "Letter from Birmingham Jail" earlier this year and they went to see Selma, so they have that background--and maybe consider how doing things just because they "look fun" might hijack that movement for justice and end up providing the means for injustice to be further perpetuated. But, as I told a friend this morning, it is like trying to talk down a tsunami.

It was illustrative when I went on Slate last night, and almost every article at the top of the page was about Baltimore, and most of the titles had the tone of "We knew Baltimore was bad but damn."

It is a sad time for a lot of reasons, and my feelings are extremely complicated right now.
dawn_felagund: (yavanna earth)
Wednesday was Bobby's 34th birthday and also the last day of our trip, so we saved the excursion we were looking forward to the most for this day. Shell Island, as I noted in the last post, was created when the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers dredged the channel between the Grand Lagoon and the Gulf of Mexico to allow for the passage of shipping traffic. It is an uninhabited section of the park with absolutely no amenities and accessible only by boat. A shuttle boat runs regularly from St. Andrew's to Shell Island. There are some wooden poles stuck into the water to show where the shuttle boat will ride up onto the sand, but that is it. There are signs posted at St. Andrew's: Shell Island contains no water, shade, or bathrooms. If you want it, you have to bring it over with you.

The NO SHADE worried me the most. We brought over two big bottles of water, and if I needed the bathroom, it would not be the first time peeing in a wild place (or the ocean ... tmi!) by far. Despite properly applying sunscreen the day before, I was becoming tender in places, as was Bobby. So that morning, we stopped at the Ron Jon surf shop and picked up a pair of rash guards with SPF 50+ so that we could spend the day in NO SHADE in comfort.

We had lunch again at Finn's--the third time! The food was delicious and the open at 10. We had the scallop ceviche this time and I had the shrimp crunch wrap ... which, yes, is like the things they make at Taco Bell but about 100 times better! At St. Andrew's we rented a tandem kayak for the day, which was loaded onto the shuttle and across we went.

Shell Island was beautiful and wild. We donned our rash guards and launched our kayak and headed out along the coast on the channel side. I love rowing--there is something immensely satisfying about pulling yourself through the water--but I kept getting a crick in my right bicep that was annoying and sometimes painful. We pulled to shore so I could give it a rest and also to explore the island.

More and pictures below the cut ... )
dawn_felagund: (tiki hut)
On Tuesday, we were to receive the paddleboards we had attempted to rent the previous day and return to St. Andrew's State Park. Bobby had found a highly rated Mexican restaurant in the area that opened at 10 for lunch, so we planned to grab a bite to eat there and then head over to the park. We had a catamaran cruise scheduled that evening and had to be at the marina at 5, so we actually were working on a schedule for once. (Usually, our schedule more or less matches the sun: When the sun starts to set, we come off the beach and get supper.)

Of course, we showed up at the restaurant, and they were closed. Allow me a brief grouse about places that make changes and don't update their websites. Seriously, folks, as someone who has managed a website for eight years now? It's not that hard. Bobby found another lunch place that was supposed to open at 10. We drove out, found it ... and they were also closed because this was the day they were having a new stove installed. We were both grouchy at this point. I made a snarky remark about just going to someplace I invented in my grouchiness called Happy Jack's Happy Flappy Flapjack House. I just ... don't like breakfast. Well, I like Bobby's breakfast, which has been carefully honed over many years to my tastes. I don't like dessert, so why would I want to eat what amounts to dessert at the beginning of the day too? We ended up at a Waffle House because it is one of the few places that has breakfast that I like: a peanut butter waffle (with no syrup for the love of all things holy!) and a double hashbrown with cheese, onions, and jalapeños. When this is the biggest blip in your vacation, you're doing alright.

We headed over to the park, and Bobby called the stand-up paddleboard (SUP) rental guy. Within ten minutes, he was pulling into the park with the boards strapped to the top of his truck. So the day was looking better already.

Bobby mentioned wanting to try SUPing about two years ago, when we saw people doing it in Ocean City. At the time, the joints in my feet were so swollen and painful that I wanted to weep for the thought of standing on a board and trying to float across water on it and them by extension. I made up my mind that I would miserably have to endure it for Bobby's sake. Well, thank goodness that chapter of life is behind me. I was actually able to enjoy it--it was quite a lot of fun!

St. Andrew's State Park is located at one end of Panama City Beach. In the 1930s, the Army Corps of Engineers dredged the Gulf-Bay Pass to allow for shipping traffic to pass between the Grand Lagoon and the Gulf of Mexico. On the west side of the channel is St. Andrew's State Park; the east became Shell Island, which I'll say more about when we go there. Several rock jetties were built, which on the St. Andrew's side, block most of the effect of the surf and create a very calm area for swimming ... or learning to SUP, in our case!

More and pictures below the cut )
dawn_felagund: (happiness)
Bobby ended up placing fifth in his category today at the Mountain Dew Vertical Challenge. This was a very impressive result (in my admittedly biased opinion!) There were 36 competitors in his category, which was ages 26-35, so he was also competing against guys significantly younger than him. And it is also worth remembering--and it's easy to forget sometimes because he's come so far so fast--that he has only been doing this for four seasons now, and missed part of two of those seasons due to injury. So I am very, very proud of him. :)

Pictures below the Cut )
dawn_felagund: Ainulindale--star photo from hubblesite.org. (ainulindale)
Well, when it rains it pours, in a good way this time. Some of you might remember a few weeks ago when I had mad deadlines for things and was biting my fingers till they bled (how I react when stressed out!). Both being due simultaneously meant that they were both published within the past two days.

My article "Fictional Scholarship: How the Peter Jackson Films and Fandom Archives Make Tolkien Fan Fiction Writers into Competent Critics" is out in Mythprint 52:1. It is a shortened version of my Mythmoot paper (which will eventually be available for free online in the proceedings) but does introduce some new data and expands on some of the points I couldn't really delve into in my Mythmoot paper because of time. Unfortunately, I don't have a link for this one, but Mythopoeic Society members will get it as part of Mythprint. There were no strings attached on this article, so I can reprint it wherever and whenever I want, and I will post it on the Heretic Loremaster in a couple of weeks. I just want to give Mythprint the courtesy of having it first for a while.

And my article In a Stone House by the Sea: The Founding and Governing of the Silmarillion Writers’ Guild is available in Signum University's Eagle. (Here is the entire March edition of the Eagle.) The timing on this was perfect because, believe it or not (and I am still having trouble believing it), the SWG's tenth begetting day* is tomorrow.

*Just like an Elf, the SWG has a begetting day and a birthday because I set it up on March 15 and then chickened out about doing anything with it until later in the year, having been utterly unqualified to start anything of that scope, even as I imagined it then. Uli pushed me in the summer to try to actually, um, get people to join, so I count the end of July as its birthday.

Finally, I wrote an essay, We Are Fëanor? Thoughts on Reading Moral Ambiguity into the Characterizations of the Fëanorians, which I posted to the Heretic Loremaster and also Tumblr. (Also a reminder that [syndicated profile] heretic_lore_feed will display HL posts on your friends page. I don't use the HL very much these days but it [and the entire Midhavens site] will be getting a facelift and some renewed attention once my MA is done and then I hope to have regular updates from me and People Not Me.)


dawn_felagund: (Default)
Dawn Felagund

November 2015



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