The Unfairness Doctrine for Science Publishing!

Representative John Conyers (D-Mi) has introduced a bill that would reverse the NIH's Public Access Policy to any and all studies funded with taxpayer money, and would likewise make it difficult for other agencies to do the same.

In the last election, the science community put its weight behind the Democrats because eight years of Republican rule had decimated public funding for research and placed a strangehold of regulations on private research interests. Now, unfortunately, one arm of that community wants its piece of the pie: a "Fair Copyright Act" that would forbid the NIH and other agencies from requiring open licensing agreements for federally funded work.

Your tax dollars would go to research that the NIH could use but not publish; the research teams would be free to find other publishing outlets, and reap private rewards for their success with public funding. This is contrary to every basic premise of the US government: if the taxpayer paid for it, the taxpayers should be able to see what they paid for, without qualifications or exorbitant fees.

The Alliance for Taxpayer Access has an example letter up on its website. Project VoteSmart has a "find your representatives and legislators" function on their website. Let it be known that you oppose the selling of America's public intellectual property to the highest bidder.

Storyboarding A Novel with Post-It Notes

Storyboarding Princess Jera

I’ve recently begun experimenting with storyboarding my longer works the way Elmore Leonard does. He uses 3×5 cards, but I figure that with my crabbed handwriting and tragically bad organization, 1×1.5 post-it notes is going to work just fine.

The story to my left is the rubble of Princess Jera, a novel told in twenty alternating chapters of about 2500 words each, so about 50,000 words total, not novel length but good fun and practice.  The story is about half gonzo; Jera’s magic powers come from arousal and pubescence (classic themes beaten to zero Kelvin death by the X-Men and the Twilight series, but still pliable in the marketplace), the Traditionalists are terrified of a Mage upon the throne and the Mages are terrified that she’ll be like the last royal, discovered-at-puberty Mage, who damn near wrecked the kingdom with his self-indulgence and self-destructive tendencies.   That he wasn’t very bright compared to Jera doesn’t quite enter into their calculations.

With help from a friend in her father’s court, Jera finds documents from that era, four centuries prior, and embarks on a journey of self-discovery (ahem), discovers that there’s a word for her and the two mages assigned to her training have been mostly training her how to tamp down and ignore her powers.

Even worse, Jera discovers that an incident from four centuries ago that both her nation and the kingdom to the north portray as a great betrayal by her ancestors was something far, far more complicated… and she may be able to undo much of the damage.  There are those in the court who like things exactly the way they are.

The story ends with a violent confrontation in an ancient castle, a ruin where once her predecessor’s secret mage council practiced forbidden necromancy, and a discovery that will turn the entire region upside down with its implications.

The storyboard is an attempt to isolate important scenes and ideas.  Not all of those above will make it into the story.  And as I said, this is half of them; the other half is told in diaries, journals, and letters from her predecessor’s era, a cache of documents that stun Jera with their wanton depravity, so unlike the elegant, controlled concupiscience of her father’s Imperial harem.   And then among the documents Jera stumbles across the most dangerous find of all– the grimoire of another student of her predecessor’s mentor, a woman whose training made her cruel and dangerous.  Those post-it notes, with descriptions of various orgy scenes and other laciviousness haven’t  been put down yet.

It’s an attempt.  We’ll see how it goes.  I really should transfer these to a much larger canvas, like something from a very large sketchpad or something, but the notebook is a compromise between space and portability.

This entry was automatically cross-posted from Elf's writing journal, Pendorwright.com. Feel free to comment on either LiveJournal or Pendorwright.

There's Treasure Everywhere!

Record Labels

A long time ago, Omaha and I bought a box of records — that's an analog audio format encoded onto discs of vinyl, kids! — somewhat at random, from an elderly couple at the same garage sale where we first bought Kouryou-chan's copy of Hooked on Phonics. Looking back through my LJ, I see that my first mention of it was February 11, 2003, meaning that Omaha and I bought the box in the Summer of 2002. We brought the box home, discovered that our turntable wouldn't turn, and promptly forgot about the box.

Omaha's been in a cleaning frenzy the past day or so, and we decided to tackle the box. What we found was a treasure trove. We're convinced that what we have is a DJ's personal collection of albums from the 1900's through the early 1940s. The oldest album in the collection, of those that even have dates, and most of them don't, is from 1903– 105 years ago.

Unfortunately, what we did not know when we bought the box was that someone had spilled motor oil into it. Many of the albums are damaged beyond repair. We're going to salvage what we can, and if I can fix or buy a turntable, I'll try to record and FLAC as many of them as I can. Does anyone know what the legal status of stuff like this? This is just an amazing collection, all 78 RPMs of Bing Crosby, Tommy Dorsey, and many others that I've never even heard of.

You will probably beat me for this

Doctor Who: The Infestation

"Doctor! Doctor, where are you?" Sarah Jane Smith swatted the indistinct black forms that swarmed through the air of the TARDIS. Try as she might, she couldn't connect with even one, and there were dozens of them in the air. "What are these horrible things?"

"Ah, Sarah!" The Doctor, who had been under the command console, stood straight. In his hand he held a cylinder about a meter long. "Ah, yes," he said, squinting against the infestation. "Oh, these are Gallifrea Diptera Tempi, a rare species of insect native to Gallifrey that feeds directly upon temporal energies. Sometimes they swarm like this inside a Tardis or other Gallifrean vessels. Annoying, aren't they?"

"They're everywhere," Sarah said. "They're horrible! What do we do?"

"First, we bring the Tardis back to the regular universe. Shall we?" Batting his way through the swarm, he twisted a dial. The lights dimmed briefly. The universe groaned and gave way as the Tardis forced it way back into the ordinary temporal flow.

The tiny black creatures began to whip madly back and forth. "Doctor!"

"Oh, Sarah, they're only bugs. Harmless, really. They're upset because I've taken away their food supply. But now..." He opened the case.

"What's that?"

"It's my old archery quiver. Haven't used it in years."

"Archery? Doctor, this is hardly the time."

"This is exactly the time, Sarah, exactly the time! When I give the word?" He reached into the quiver and pulled out one shaft. He tossed it into the doorway. The entire swarm of insects followed it. "Now, Sarah!"

He pushed one side of the inner doors shut, and Sarah took the other. Once closed, he ran to the console, twisted another dial. The Tardis shook, and the swarm was cast out into space. "There, see?" he said, clapping his hands together. "All gone. Out into space. Poor fellows."

"But Doctor, I don't understand," Sarah said. "How did that work?"

"Oh," said the Doctor. "You see, Sarah, time flies like an arrow."