Temporary hiatus: like half the writers on this site, November for me is NaNoWriMo's alone (November is National Novel Writing Month). Unless the Muse dictates otherwise, I'll see you December first. Have a happy November.

I write fanfic for Bleach as well as original fiction, hold down a job of some kind, practice yoga (it's called "practice" because, like writing or the art of medicine, it's impossible to truly perfect), and am house slave to two or more cats at all times.

Primarily, I describe myself as a writer. My affection for Bleach must and does take a back seat to the craft of writing, even when Master Tite Kubo has provvided the bones upon which I hang my words. On the other hand, being a writer, I am always ready to fall in love with a well-told tale, which Bleach provides. Tite Kubo's artwork is absolutely awesome, as well: he is well-trained in that craft, and his graphic sensibilities always make for well-composed and striking pictures.

My Muse is female, despite my own straight femininity, and my authorial zanupakuto. She's as self-willed as any of the other swords, but I am fortunate enough to be able to trust her judgment absolutely as to what does and what does not work. I think that's because I fell into love with the works of British mystery writers back in my formative years, a couple of centuries ago. They didn't just plot with dedication and craftsmanship, they developed characters which were memorable, their use of the English language was precise and often exquisite, and their work was wet-your-pants funny when appropriate.

I owe the greatest debts of gratitude to Dorothy Sayers, Georgette Heyer, and Josephine Tey, all Englishwomen, and to Charlotte Armstrong, an American sister of theirs. Saki and P.G. Wodehouse shaped me as well, although they wrote short stories and humor respectively, and Dick Francis belongs on this list too. Despite the fact that I did not read his work until I was in my teens, his tales of decent everymen cast into impossible situations has always resonated with me quite strongly. That's probably because Francis, once a championship jockey, sets his work in the British steeplechasing scene. I was a teenage horse-nut, and reading his books, I was in heaven.

I am still striving to reach their standards.

Bleach characters the Muse finds inspiring: Kenpachi Zaraki; Byakuya Kuchiki; Shuuhei Hisagi; Izuru Kira; Renji Abarai; Gin Ichimaru. I cannot tell you why these characters and no others are on this list, since the Muse administers it: she has allowed me to understand that all of them have the means within to be hard men, and that's part of their allure. Further than that, I do not pry. She'll show me what she needs me to understand. I'm happy to be merely her keyboard monkey.

My earlier pieces get updated when the Muse feels the need, and I have the habit of replacing chapters if I find what time, distance, and the Muse's critical eye reveal to be a shoddy mistake in them. You learn as you go, and I want what's here to be my best work. I've also learned more about Bleach, and of course the canon itself has expanded (although there is a limit to what I'm willing to do about that). Writing is all about getting your reader to suspend disbelief. If I tolerate errors and accept less than my best, I can't reasonably expect you to enjoy my work, and I want us both to have fun.

Hardest part of all this? I had to give up watching the anime, which was my first introduction to Bleach, because apparently my Muse will believe any and all moving pictures - and whatever else the anime-only arcs are (only a few have been genuinely well-done) they aren't canon. Would that Noriyuki Abe's script writers embraced the spirit which drove Cowboy Bebop.

What the Muse and I listen to while we're writing: wild blues, the forerunner of Delta blues and all its descendants: soul, gospel, electric blues, rhythm and blues, whatever it was that Ray Charles did, quite a lot of country (but not bluegrass, which oddly enough we also like), Motown, rockabilly, and last but hardly least, rock and roll. Had I never heard the Rolling Stones, I would not have been shown this path. The musical lineage that connects Keith Richard to Muddy Waters to Ali Farka Toure, the late wild-blues master, is, after all, fewer than ten generations long. Current practitioners of wild blues mostly live in Mali.

What the Muse and I watch on TV: nothing current except Castle, Bleach and Naruto, and those are from the Net. (Don't actually own an idiot box.) Past favorites: Stargate, Teen Titans, Fairly OddParents, Danny Phantom, Firefly, and Whose Line Is It Anyway - I can quote entire passages of The Collected Works of Colin Mochrie, and am completely unable to pass the tapioca section of the supermarket without cracking up. It is not wise to initiate discussions concerning either arctic terns or Cuba, a small island in the Caribbean, with me. (Only other Mochrie fans will understand this reference. If you're not one of us, sorry: go to YouTube and see what we're on about.)

What I read: much less than I used to, as the Muse is demanding of my time and I prefer to give her priority. Three authors whose books get devoured by us whenever they come out are Dick Francis, Terry Pratchett, and Robert B. Parker - we like the Spenser novels. Spenser is consistently funny, articulate, and hard as nails. Even Byakuya Kuchiki manages only the last two of those three.

Terry Pratchett's praises cannot be sung highly enough. He wrote a book with Neil Gaiman called "Good Omens" which quite rightly enjoys a niche all its own on FanFiction.net. Political satire, religious satire, magical satire, knowing far too much about the inner workings of human beings to take them seriously: Pratchett's got the chops to do all of this wonderfully well. In his hands, you will read a scene in which a fifty-foot woman climbs a tower clutching a screaming ape in her hand, and suddenly you will realize what this references, and why it is funny all by itself. Make the acquaintance of the "Discworld" or "Tiffany Aching" series today. You will not regret it. I promise. No, you can't borrow my copies. They're all falling apart anyway.

Things that feed my Muse directly: long walks, being in the presence of wild water, and looking at topographical maps. The poor human component of our partnership enjoys the first and the second too, but the third? That's just plain weird.

On August 27, 2006, Pluto was declared a non-planet. I've gotten some really unintelligent birthday gifts before, but that was the worst ever.

For grins, go to semeuke.com and take the "What kind of seme or uke are you?" test. For the record, 1.) I hate chibi, and 2.) no matter how many times I take the dad-ratted test, I'm consistently chibi seme. I wonder whether my obsession with Byakuya or with Kenpachi explains this more clearly?

Go to Sunlight Map to see where all of us live. This live satellite picture of the whole world makes civilization into a string of diamonds - but interestingly enough, it does so only on the dark side.

There's a lesson in there for all of us.