Arrested Development, the show you always meant to watch, debuts its fourth season on Netflix. Following the same format as the universally loved House of Cards and the universally opposite-of-loved Hemlock Grove, all fifteen episodes will be available on May 26th. If you’re like most people who haven’t seen an episode but feel compelled to tell everyone you have, Netflix has provided a convenient cheat sheet below: Now instead of only talking about David Cross dyeing himself blue, you can recount how funny it was when that crazy ostrich got in the house or when Jason Bateman bought the airport luggage truck....

Conventional wisdom has it that Thanksgiving is the one day where family and friends reunite, reconnect, and relapse over a grocery-store-bought feast of turkey, stuffing and wine. Football is watched. Happy tears are shed. Everlasting memories are made. Balderdash. Come on, admit it, if I put a gun to your head, would you be able to give me ten specific (not to even mention, beloved) Thanksgiving Day memories? What’s that, you say? The many years of chewing on dried turkey, hearing the same dull stories and watching the interminable parades and bad football games have melded together in the same way Aunt Jane’s viscid, feldgrau-colored gravy slithered into the cranberry sauce on your plate last Thanksgiving to create a ichorous blob of food that looked like the bloody brown mucus goo that was leaking out of your nephew Timmy’s nose at the kids table? Well, then, in that case, how about ten Black Friday memories? Ahhh. Now that’s easy. Without any prompting you rattle off a host of fond recollections… … Delicious cold turkey sandwiches (so much better than the dry, hot turkey slices of the previous night)…The entire family going to see the latest Disney, James Bond, Harry Potter or Twilight movie…Dad somehow getting that perfect parking space right in front of the mall’s entrance….Mom buying the very last Cabbage Patch doll…and the sales…oh, the sales… Now those are the memories for which ink is laid upon the Hallmark Card. According to Wikipedia, the term “Black Friday” was originally coined to describe the great stock market crash of 1869. “Black Friday” gained traction as the nom de plume for the day after Thanksgiving (and unofficial start of the Christmas shopping season) in 1969 when the Philadelphia police used the term to describe the...

Spider-Man: Turn Off the Dark has yet to kill anyone, but could it end up murdering the Broadway Flop? No show in Broadway history has ever battled through such a dizzying array of troubles as Spider-Man: Turn Off Dark. The buzz hasn’t just been bad, it’s been genocidal.  And like the war in Afghanistan or The Passion of the Charlie Sheen, there seems to be no end in sight. This week brought news that director Julie Taymor has been fired/quit the production and the supposedly really, really, real opening date of March 15th has just gone the way of the dodo. Yet the production continues to perform gravity-defying feats of box office wonderment. The producers love the free publicity. Critics are having adjective orgasms crafting witty, bitchy prose. Federal, state and local authorities are only too happy to enlist the show’s help in fixing historic deficits by fining it for countless safety violations. And the suddenly contract-endangered Glenn Beck is relieved to pontificate on a subject that doesn’t involve eschatology. Everyone, it seems, is happy to have Spider-Man: Turn Off the Dark in their life. The only people who shouldn’t be happy are theatre fans. Spider-Man: Turn Off the Dark may not be the catalyst for one of Beck’s certain-to-arrive-any-minute-now apocalypses, but it very well could be the canary in the coalmine for an even more tragic End Time: The Death of The Broadway Flop. Devotees of film, literature and music rarely focus their café conversations on the Cutthroat Islands, Ancient Evenings, and Garth Brooks in the Life of Chris Gaineses of the canon.  But if you love theatre, it’s a given that at some point in the last month you’ve incanted “Carrie: The Musical,” “Moose Murders” or “Dance of the Vampires” in the hushed, haunted...

“The Ancient Greeks reserved a special word for the sort of arrogance that makes you forget your own humanity. That word was Hubris.” — From an introductory essay included in the Playbill of Spider-Man: Turn Off the Dark. Note to Julie Taymor, Bono and The Edge: When creating a $65 million dollar musical beset by more accidents than those found in the diapers of my nine-month old niece, it’s not a good idea to feature an essay in your show’s program about Hubris. But then again, the entire production history of Spider-Man: Turn Off the Dark reeks of Hubris. And Hubris was at the heart of what I saw on the night of December 20th when, during a preview performance, Christopher Tierney (one of the many actors who portrays the flying Spider-Man) plummeted 30 feet into an orchestra pit, causing the performance to come to a premature end with seven minutes left. In truth, I was there to see an accident. Not an accident that endangered the life of an actor, mind you, but a theatrical one.  I had missed the opportunity to feast upon such legendary Broadway turkeys as Dance of the Vampires, Lestat, and Carrie: The Musical. And the larger-than-life elements and Jupiter-sized egos involved with Spider-Man: Turn Off the Dark seemed to ensure that the show was either going to be a unmitigated disaster or a genuine work of theatrical genius like Taymor’s The Lion King. I know what you’re thinking now– Aside from the stage accident, how was the show? To assist me in answering this question, I’ve enlisted my buddy Aristotle, the ancient Greek philosopher who knew a few things about Hubris. As anyone who’s taken a freshman year theatre class knows, Aristotle broke down Greek Tragedy (and thus...

Fierce Anticipation’s 1st Annual Macabre, Morbid, Miserly, and somewhat Murderous Christmas Reading List of 22 Books Selected at Random by Me, Ryan Dixon Need a gift for that not-so-special someone? Read on to discover the perfectly inappropraite book for every Christmas occasion after the gallery… For those who’d rather eat a reindeer than ride one: How to Cook a Reindeer by Laila Spik For those who’d rather eat a human than a ham: I Ate Billy on Christmas by Roman Dirge For those looking for a legitimate reason NOT to buy anyone presents: Scroogenomics: Why You Shouldn’t Buy Presents for the Holidays by Joel Waldfogel For those who aren’t already bored enough by Prairie Hometown Companion: A Christmas Blizzard by Garrison Keillor For those looking for re-confirmation that Texas is the worst state in the Union (especially at Christmastime): Tinsel: A Search for America’s Christmas Present by Hank Stuever For those who are closeted, Christmas loving Jews: Sex, God, Christmas and the Jews by Gil Mann For those plotting a family member’s murder during the holiday: Murder for Christmas: 26 Tales of Yuletide Malice edited by Thomas Godfrey For those who ate too much bread pudding: The Bathroom Book of Christmas Trivia edited by Lisa Wojina For those getting a PhD in Christmas Studies: The Battle for Christmas by Stephen Nissenbaum For those getting a PhD in Christmas Studies with a focus on the semiotics of Santa Claus: Santa Claus, Last of the Wild Men: The Origins and Evolution of Saint Nicholas Spanning 50,000 Years by Phyllis Siefker For those who like their Beef Stick organic and farm fresh: Stocking Stuffers: Homoerotic Christmas Tales edited by David Laurents For those who want some Gore(y) with their Christmas: The Twelve Terrors of Christmas by John...

INTRODUCTION TO THE 2010 EDITION: Why Me? How did an always poor, mostly anonymous and only occasionally witty blogumnist living in Burbank, CA suddenly find himself as the protagonist in a real-life, 21st century Horatio Alger novel? During the past three weeks I’ve been quoted in the Wall Street Journal, my voice was heard on NPR and perhaps the greatest corporation in American history became my 69th follower on Twitter. And I owe it all to one saliva-inducing, two-syllable word: McRib. My journey to becoming a PhD in Pork Product and being hailed as the world’s foremost expert on McDonald’s legendary and enigmatic sandwich all began with a seemingly innocuous FaN blogumn that I wrote last December arguing that the McRib, an object of both mirthless odium and near-religious devotion, was simply the Citizen Kane of rapidly-processed culinary cuisine. I had resolved myself to the fact that this blogumn had probably sunk to the never-to-be-read-again seabed of the fathomless internet ocean until a few weeks ago when a reporter, working on his own McRib story for the Wall Street Journal, read the post, contacted Fierce and Nerdy and interviewed me. With the publication of that front-page article, I stepped upon the national stage to take my rightful place as the Susan Boyle of fast foodies. (Google “Ryan Dixon McRib” and 3,390 results come roaring back at you. Google “Ryan Dixon” and I don’t even make an appearance until the second page.) Unfortunately, for the past sixteen years only select pockets of the country were able to celebrate the annual arrival of those banners, draped under the Golden Arches, inscribed with that immortal phrase “The McRib is Back.” But this year, for the first time since 1994, the entire nation, in a period of great...

If you’re stuck in the office today, try not to blast this. Though, I know you’ll be tempted… From April 8, 2009 Saturday Night Live is pretty much dead to me. Mainly because it’s been ridiculously unfunny since the election ended, but also because I can no longer stay up that late. So big thanks to Friend of FaN, Mike Bollow for posting this hilarious Andy Sandberg video from last Saturday’s Seth-Rogen-hosted ep on his Facebook page. If you have a boss, it’s a must-watch for the first 30 seconds alone, then it just escalates from there. NSFW w/o...

What better way to end our two week of re-runs than with my original Fierce and Nerdy post? This has been an AWESOME two-week clip show. Thank you all so much for reading and re-reading our FaN Favorites. See you next Tuesday when we unveil the site redesign! From September 7, 2008 Ask not what your country can do for you, but how you can help your country procrastinate. –Ernessa T. Carter     If you can, try not to quote yourself. It only makes you look like a self-involved asshole. –Ernessa T. Carter So Willkommen, Willkommen* to the Fierce and Nerdy blog. This is the first, and probably last, Sunday post that you’ll ever read on this blog, unless there’s some huge breaking newsy sort of thing that we just have to post on. But for the most part, Fierce And Nerdy will be a weekday blog for fellow fierce And nerdy people like ourselves. If you need an explanation of what fierce and nerdy is, then you’re probably either only fierce or nerdy and not both, but hopefully you’re enough of one or the other to enjoy this blog. And don’t worry the Fierce and Nerdy blog will definitely make you more of both. Feel free to quote Fierce and Nerdy on that. Fierce and Nerdy will also introduce you to music you’ll want to download, points of view that you’ll want to consider, and advice that you’ll want to take. Fierce And Nerdy is basically your best friend — but you know, much more fiercer and nerdier. Fierce and Nerdy will also decrease your taxes by at least 15%, so work that savings into your 2009 budget — not really. But Fierce and Nerdy is willing to make promises that it...

. Proof of Nerd ID by Charles Cron HAPPY ANNIVERSARY, FaN! YOU’RE IN THE TOP 6%! EDITION According to an estimate in Harper’s Weekly, 94% of all blogs worldwide have not been updated in the last 4...

I’m looking weirdly forward to going to Washington D.C. on my book tour. I haven’t been back for eight years. But I was told this rap parody captures Arlington (where a lot of yuppies who work in DC live) perfectly back when I posted it the first time… From July 1, 2009 Dudes, I’ve only been to Arlington once, for a 3-day visit back in 2000 with my Smithie roommate. But from what I remember, this is dead...

. a favorite blogumn by Joshua Pullin Josh Says: I like the below piece because it’s the one I get asked about the most. And the longer I live with taking my wife’s last name, the more it feels real. From January 21, 2010 Some day around the age of four or five my son will ask why we named him what we did. This is what I will tell him. Your mom and I knew you were a boy before you were born. We could’ve given you a family name. Only with one grandfather and zero brothers or uncles between us, there weren’t a lot of family names to pick from. So, we made a few rules. Popular names, even if we liked them, like Jack, Andrew or Ben, were out. Biblical names were out. Names that reminded us of anyone we didn’t like were out. Trendy celebrity names were out. We thought about naming you Joshua, but I didn’t want to turn my head every time your mom called out Josh. Besides, we wanted you to have your very own name. Ruling out names was taking forever so we decided what kinds of names were acceptable. Your mom craved one with literary significance. I sought a name that was unmistakably a boy, but fit for a man – the name of someone who could eat dirt and one day run for congress. It wasn’t long before we settled on the letter ‘G’. Maybe it was because you have a grandma Gayle and a grandpa Gordon. I really don’t know. Graham was the early front-runner and met both our criteria. Graham Greene was an author, playwright, and critic, and Graham by itself sounded like a little boy who might just grow up and...

So, as many of you know, I’m just obsessed with Wii Just Dance. So I’m running my original review of the game and hoping all the things I didn’t like get fixed in the next version. We’ll see… From March 4, 2010 Okay, I’m just an hour away from finishing my latest audiobook, but I’ve accepted that that hour is just not going to happen today. So look for that review next Tuesday and let’s talk about the new Wii game, JUST DANCE, b/c every time I mention this game on Facebook, somebody’s asking me whether I like it or not. So w/o further ado, here are my thoughts, organized in what I have decided to make my usual reviewing fashion: Why I Decided To Buy It: The commercials made it look like so much fun. Also, this seemed like an even more fun version of Dance Dance Revolution, which CH and I played a lot when we were slimming down for our wedding. But on a more practical note, the way my (absolutely free) weight loss program [more on this later] works is that I’m given a low number of calories and after that, the more calories I burn, the more calories I can eat. My MIL is a fantastic cook, so I need to burn a lot of calories if I want to enjoy a decent dinner. You burn about 292 calories after an hour of non-aerobic dancing, and a ton more with aerobic dancing, so I’ve been dancing like a fiend lately. What’s It All About: Basically you hold the Wii Remote in one hand and mirror the movements of either a male or a female dancer. And you accumulate points by how well you mirror her or him. Both dancers...

Of all the things I’ve featured for “One More Thing Before We Go,” I think this is the object I want most… From March 22, 2010 Then perhaps you should buy one of these Georg Bohle piano tables. It fits in your dining room and I think it’s kind of genius. Though at $6000 it would be an investment. Click on the pic for more...

From Sept. 15 2008 A Facebook Forward from Fierce and Nerdy Contributor Delia...

I picked this blogumn as a FaN Favorite b/c I’m starting the second draft of the AWESOME GIRL’S GUIDE TO DATING EXTRAORDINARY MEN and have a whole slew of new research to do. But I’m not going to talk to much about it, b/c you know … spoilers. From January 13, 2010 So this week’s current mood picture refers to the fact that I’ve sent my last pass of 32 CANDLES back to the publisher, and am now hankering down with a new women’s fiction novel called the The Awesome Girl’s Guide to Dating Extraordinary Men. As I mentioned last week, I was all sorts of in love with this new novel … but that was before I actually started working on it — or if we want to stretch the romantic metaphor, before I moved in with it. Now, I’m finding out the weird — almost schizophrenic way — that these characters who seemed hot-to-go when I was with another novel, are actually demanding nags. The novel has four main characters, but there’s one that I like particularly and she has been hinting that she wants to be a comedian. Yes, a comedian — even though I have little to no experience with performing comedy — only writing it. I tried offering her many other career options. I was even willing to let her be a writer, though I try to never, ever make my main characters writers — just because the actual act of writing is so boring that I know it’s not really of interest to anyone but other writers. But she stood her ground and insisted that she had to be a comedian, b/c that’s what she was. Okay, so though, I’m a write-at-home mom with limited evening time to...

. Proof of Nerd ID by Charles Cron TIME’S A-WASTING EDITION According to a recent Dow Jones report, Americans spent 4.2 billion hours stuck in traffic during 2007 — which equates to one full work week per person. Photo Credit: Kathy...

. a favorite blogumn by Amy Brown Amy Says: I’m missing Los Angeles like crazy.  Here are my two favorites LA reads in rerun. From February 2, 2010 One of my favorite things to do in Los Angeles is to watch the sun set from the bar at the Huntley Hotel in Santa Monica. I’ve lived here for five years now and still feel a tremendous sense of awe looking out over the curve of the shoreline stretching up to Malibu. Somehow the view of the stucco and the roofs feels timeless, as though nothing has changed since the early days of civilization here. It seems like I could walk out and meet my father in the ‘sixties, going to work at Ramo Woldrich, now TRW, while Anita, his first wife, took care of their children in a ranch house on Euclid Avenue. It’s the same feeling I have reading Raymond Chandler, a lingering nostalgia sinking me as a reader so deeply into the time of the novel that when I draw up my head, I expect to find the people around me wearing gloves and carrying guns, rather than Ugg boots and Macbooks. The High Window, published in 1942, opens on Dresden Avenue in Pasadena. Mrs. Elizabeth Bright Murdock, “the widow of an old coot with whiskers named Jasper Murdock who had made a lot of money helping out the community,” has lost an antique coin, the Brasher Doubloon. She’s quite certain the culprit is her disliked daughter-in-law, who has mysteriously disappeared. This is not Philip Marlowe’s first case, and from the wealth of Pasadena, the detective is soon drawn into Bunker Hill, where “there are still standing a few of the jigsaw Gothic mansions with wide porches and walls covered with round-end shingles...

High-larious still. From Oct. 12, 2009 Big thanks to Corey Saucier for posting this video on his Facebook page. It basically shows how ridiculous the rap game is about homosexuality. And it’s also really funny. So good...

So as a few of you know, I live blogged my labor and delivery. I chose this post from the , b/c it was written at the height of my pain. I was literally crying as I wrote this and I don’t ever know if I’ll ever have a similar writing experience. It should be noted that I’m still in 100% agreement w/ what is written here — except the bit about C-sections. The recovery was such a pain for just a regular delivery that I would never elect for a C-section. The C-section line was definitely the pain talking. You know how wounded animals often go off to suffer alone? That’s basically where I’m at. I’m singing and not talking to anybody and composing blog posts to get through the pain. CH is the best husband ever b/c he’s not engaging me just rubbing my back, handling all interactions with Mariah the nurse, rubbing my back occasionally and making sure that my monitor cables get reconnected correctly when I come back from energy-sapping trips to the bathroom. Every so once in awhile it sinks in particularly deep that this man truly gets me, and I love him even more for that even if this situation is technically 50% his fault. I’m totally over labor. If I could go back in time and schedule an elective C-section like I hear most European women do, I would totally do that. I have never felt more selfish than this in my life and all my what’s-best-for-Betty thoughts have flown out the window. And I’d rather be sore and on bed rest for a week than in labor pain for hours and hours b/c Americans are scared of science. That’s probably the pain talking. Writing really helps....

Betty was born w/ a full head of hair, so I never had to prove my stated conviction never to buy my baby Baby Bangs. From March 18, 2009 Apparently, there are actually people out there that feel that their hair-challenged babies need a little help, hence forming a market for Baby Bangs, which Before-and-Afters babies as seen below. I’m curious about the kind of mother that would make her little girl wear Baby Bangs. I suspect she is the same kind of woman that gets her grade-schooler a weave, you know, right before entering her into the local beauty pageant. But maybe I’m just being insensitive. Both my sister and I were born with full heads of hair, so I never knew the pain of being a less than fully afroed-out baby. Still, I know I won’t be buying this for Betty, even if she’s bald and everyone assumes she’s a boy. Would you get Baby Bangs for your...

. a favorite blogumn by Michael Kass Michael Says: I recently re-read this blogumn and it brought me back to a simpler time, when a simple test could determine the fate of a relationship. I was also struck by the callowness of the writer–what an ass. Also, it made me giggle. From February 2, 2009 I have just returned—literally moments ago—from a ‘date.’ For the past two hours, I sat across from a lovely young woman. We chatted. I found out all about her. She grew up in New Jersey, loves Italy, and is learning to cook homemade pasta. We laughed and did that sort of flirty thing where you accidentally-on-purpose brush up against each other. I won’t be seeing her again. See, it was going so well that I did something that I usually reserve for the second or even third date. I subjected her to The Litmus Test. Don’t look so appalled, Fierce Nerdites. You probably have a litmus test, too. Maybe you don’t call it that, but every time you sit across from someone and wonder if they’re right for you, if you can really stomach that laugh every day, if you want to put up with a lifetime (or even 3 months) of that habit of cutting the food into absurdly small pieces before eating it: Litmus Test. I just deploy mine with malice of forethought. And so it was that, as the date wound to a close, I let loose with the Litmus: “So,” I said, “I was hanging out in this bookstore the other day.” That’s the first step. Introduce the concept of “hanging out” in a “bookstore.” If her eyes roll or she harrumphs in any way: test failed. But she actually leaned forward and said, in...

. a favorite blogumn by Jeff Rogers Jeff Says: It wasn’t easy for me to pick a favorite “Hippie Squared” to rerun. I’m pleased to find how many of them I’m still happy with. But “Gold Country Gold” has a few things to recommend it. It might be the most purely crafted of them all. It was only my third one, so I was still taking Ernessa’s 300 word limit seriously. So it’s tight. I like the characters, I like the dialogue, I like the local color. I like the punchline. And it’s all true. But the ultimate reason I chose it? It’s my wife’s favorite. And she has good taste. So Sweet Elise, this one’s for you, babe. Enjoy. From November 24, 2008 “Out here we grow amunds. ‘Almonds’ are what we sell.” Lou’s giving me the tour. “This year the birds got ‘em all. Wasn’t worth knockin’ one tree.” Past the almond groves their acreage ends at the edge of a tree-filled canyon. Successive ridges of oak-dotted yellow hills climb to the gray line of Sierra Nevadas. Three canyons over the gold rush began. My wife and I have taken her mother to see cousin Bertie for the first time in fifty years. They grew up together, third generation San Franciscans. Irish great grandfather fled the potato famine. Grandfather “Pop-pop” owned seven saloons on the Barbary Coast and a famous night spot in San Francisco. The first floor was a public restaurant. The second floor an exclusive one. Third floor was the brothel. Bertie takes in refugees. She takes us to feed the burro his nightly garlic bread. He’s as big around as he is long. “He loves his garlic bread.” Someone shot the burro’s friend the goat. And bobcats got the chickens. But they’ve...

I think it’s fairly obvious why I chose the below as one of my FaN Favorites: From May 4, 2009 Photo by Kalimba Bennett So as you may or may not have noticed, I haven’t been talking about the writing process much lately. Many of you might have thought this was because I got sick of navel-gazing. But c’mon, I’m a neurotic writer — which means that I will never, ever stop obsessively picking at my own belly lint. I mean ever. So get that thought out of your pretty little heads. Alas, I haven’t been writing about writing lately b/c the saga of my first novel has been changing too fast to keep you up to speed til now. Here’s the recap, if you haven’t been with us up to this point — oh, and if you don’t want to go through the whole chronicle, just skip down to #4. That’s when it really gets good. 1) Around Christmas 2007 I finished the rough draft of a novel about an ugly duckling named Davie Jones who becomes obsessed with getting a Molly Ringwald Ending (a beyond perfect 80’s movie ending), even though she’s completely unpopular, the daughter of the town hooker, and extremely poor. She eventually escapes her small Mississippi town, reinvents herself as a lounge singer in Los Angeles, only to re-meet her high school crush 15 years later. I dubbed the book Molly Ringwald Ending, and I worried on my then-one-person blog that no one would like the novel that I had spent almost two years cobbling together. 2) After months of rewriting, I emailed the book to my sister. She declared it good, so I sent it off to a fabulous book and screenplay editor named Karin Gutman, who I...

I hope this inspires you to do something great this weekend. Cheers! From January 25, 2010 This totally inspired me out of last week’s rain-and-sickness funk. Hopefully, it’ll help you guys out with the Monday blues. [Source:...

I still consider this post of my best moments of parenting so far… From December 25, 2009 Dearest Betty, Sometimes I wonder if you might want to be even a little bit cool when you grow up, and then I feel sorry for you because I know that you’ll be afraid to bring your popular-kid friends home for fear of them finding out about your nerdy lineage when they meet you’re not-even-trying-to-hide-how-geeky-we-are mom and dad. Your popular aspirations will also be thwarted by the fact that anyone who Googles “Betty Angela Hibbard” will find the below baby picture from now on. So here’s 32-year-old-me saying to future-15-year-old you that instead of Queen Bee, you might want to go for Queen Nerd. You have a good chance of achieving that goal with the foundation we’ve laid out for you. Also, study hard and keep your grades up — especially in math and science. You need a lot of math and science to become an astronaut. Love,...

. Proof of Nerd ID by Charles Cron RAINBOW COALITION EDITION According to a Yale University study, the smell of Crayola crayons is more recognizable for adults than the smells of either cheese and bleach. Photo Credit: Chris...

. a favorite blogumn by Gudrun Cram-Drach Gudrun Says: I decided to rerun The Loulou Edition because now, nearly a year later, it’s good for me to see how things have changed. I’ve come a long way in my French step-mothering, and I have a long way to go. I may not have the patience that comes with being a biological mom, but I can communicate better, I am more confident, and I am becoming very, very attached to these two now five-and-three-quarter-year-olds. From September 24, 2009 In France, loulou means … well I guess it means kid, as in: eh les loulous [hey kids, listen up], or gros bisous aux loulous [big kiss to the kids]. M happens to have 2 loulous, who are twins, a boy and a girl, one month shy of their 5th birthday. In spite of my age I have not had much experience with children, and when I first arrived on the scene as the part-time-sort-of-step-mom, I had no idea what I was doing. I have had to make a lot of changes. The first one was to accept that I was now, unavoidably, a grown-up, and kids depend on grown-ups for everything. Not only to feed, bathe, and protect them, but to zip jackets, to remember where they put their toys, to explain ‘why’, to kiss their booboos (it actually works), and to read them stories at night. Up until a few months ago, all the caretaking I had done consisted of pouring out kibble, changing water, and cleaning litter boxes. I was afraid that if M went out for more than 15 minutes the loulous would kill each other then burn down the house. When they cried I didn’t know how to help them, and when...

As a former English major with a Dramatic Writing MFA, of course I had to re-run this … From March 3, 2010 Thank you, thank you, thank you to Zacki from “Tall Glass of Shame” for posting this on his regular blog. On a side note, this reminds of a story that I wrote in high school, in which two black girls run through the complete works of Shakespeare and end up changing all the endings by saying things like, “Now don’t go smothering anybody, Othello. Iago is a straight hater!” Oh, how I miss the 90s [not...

. a favorite blogumn by Kelly Kaboom Lett Kelly Says: This blogumn got me in some hot water when it first appeared on FaN. At the time I was coaching roller derby to girls between the ages of 8-16, and while I had discussed my addiciton previously, never had I gone into such great detail. Those details created concern among certain people and I was ordered to remove the blog, or leave my coaching position. I did, and still do, love working with children and at the time I thought that position was the only thing keeping me sane. After a heated debate I had the blog removed and most of you never got a chance to read it. I am having it put back up because a month later I left coaching after realizing that the behind the scene’s tension was a direct cause to much of my daily stress. It is also my intention to allow you to see where I started. My next new blog is going to be an update filled with victories, losses and stagnation as I continue to fight addiction and create the life I desire so badly. From May 25, 2010 It has been 18 days since I last smoked any weed at all. Over the past two months I have gone through a series of false starts in dealing with my addiction. I would get to 4 or 5 days and then smoke again for whatever reason. Often a single shared bowl with a friend on a Friday night would lead to my purchasing an 1/8th the next day which would trash the next 4 days of my life. For those of you not in the know, an 1/8th size bag of weed is between $40-60...

I chose this book review just b/c now that I’m on the other side of publishing, I still think it’s the marketing book that every writer should read like yesterday. From February 11, 2010 I’ve been reviewing mostly fiction up to now, but as I mentioned last week, I’ve become very interested in fully learning the art of promotion before 32 CANDLES hits bookshelves. And sense I’m a page-to-life learner, I’ve been reading a lot of books on the subject. Here are my thoughts on the latest self-help-for-self-promotion book: GET KNOWN BEFORE THE BOOK DEAL by Christina Katz. Why I Decided To Read It: Like I said last week, I’m completely gung-ho about getting out there and promoting 32 CANDLES, I’m just not sure how to go about it. What’s It About: Building your platform, so that you can more easily get a fiction or non-fiction book deal. What Makes It Different: Unlike a lot of the other self-promotion books that I read, GET KNOWN is both comprehensive and engaging. Usually it’s either/or with these books. What I Loved: This is basically the self-promotion bible I’ve been waiting for. There were so many good ideas in here that I had never considered before. Ms. Katz is a straight-shooter and her writing style is both compelling and engaging. It felt less like a read and more like a conversation with a professional. I kept on having to put down the book and make notes, I got so inspired. Also, if you don’t have a platform, she helps you figure out how to get one. I absolutely think that every MFA student should get this upon graduation. Yes, seriously! What I Didn’t Like: You know how they say, “Don’t judge a book by its cover”? I...

This post only got one comment when it originally ran, but I was amazed at the horror it still strikes in my heart, so… From July 1, 2009 I like Capri Sun, but this is just wrong. Seriously, why? [Source:...

. a favorite blogumn by Roya Hamadani Roya Says: I picked this entry because it’s a great dish from my Persian heritage, and because I love the idea of bottling leftover cereal milk on a commercial scale. From October 15, 2008 I’ve spent the last three days visiting family in Boston, sharing shrimp toast and candy apples and barbecued ribs. For gastronomic adventuring I can think of no better partner than my sister. One taste and she can accurately predict my reaction – “You won’t like this cannoli, it’s got anise in the cream” – and my visits with her consist of epic culinary tours of all her favorite haunts and newest discoveries. The highlight of this go-around had to be the mob Italian restaurant that served her a mounded platter of seafood and linguini in spicy red sauce that would have fed a family of five. As my sister peered over the tower of mussel shells and squid rings before her, I thought, “There’s no place I’d rather be than right here, right now.” At breakfast yesterday morning my sister’s brother in law asked for his left over cereal milk to be used in his coffee, launching us all on an extended fantasy in which “Uncle Drew’s Own Cereal Milk” outsold every creamer on the market. According to our collective vision the logo pictures a bespectacled Drew smiling in his pajamas, milk dripping off his stubble, with a tagline that reads, “Made only with organic milk, natural sweeteners, and Drew’s own spit.” It all ends in scandal after the emergence of a video showing Chinese factory workers chewing lactate by the handful and eating from huge vats of cereal which pour off the milky dregs into Drew’s bottles. Food love is a special...

I  still don’t understand why the below concept didn’t go viral. From March 15, 2010 Okay, if you watch one PoT! this week, watch this one, especially if you know me IRL. And then after you watch, find out how we did it and do it yourself here. Then leave us the link to your hero in the...

. a favorite blogumn by Robin Rosenzweig Robin’s on a wedding-induced hiatus. But I chose this teeth rant as my favorite of her blogumns, b/c it’s absolutely true. That’s all. From April 7, 2010 As someone who gets massively geeked out on television, I know as much as the next person that sometimes you have to take what you watch with a grain of salt. It’s called suspension of disbelief, and it allows the viewing audience to accept things like mystical tropical islands with magical time travel powers and ordinary people with extraordinary superpowers. And for the most part, I’m cool with everything my TV shows throw at me, except for one little detail that keeps sticking in my craw… Exceptionally good teeth. Yeah, that’s right. Teeth bug me. Teeth. Particularly, when a character on television has way better teeth than he or she should. I really noticed this a few weeks ago when I was watching the series premiere of Justified on FX. The show follows a rugged lawman played by Timothy Olyphant as he is reassigned to his rural hometown in Kentucky. And although Olyphant has exceptionally good teeth, it wasn’t his that bothered me. It was the ones that belong to his former best friend and current rival Boyd Crowder (Walton Goggins), leader of a local backwoods white supremacist gang. Here’s a guy who grew up working the Kentucky mines and is currently a violent moonshine-swiller who entertains himself bombing churches. And yet…and yet…his teeth are straight, sparkling and blindingly white. I enjoy pretty much everything about this show, except for Goggins’ incredibly distracting teeth. I just have a hard time buying that this character makes flossing any sort of priority. About a week later, I settled in to watch a...

So I picked this blogumn as a favorite, b/c not only did we have a rather intense comments discussion about this, but also b/c Friend of FaN, Sallie Patrick, convinced me that it should be spelled “yay,” and I’ve spelled it that way ever since! From July 29, 2009 Image Credit: Khantipol So I have this character in my rogue sci-fi novel who gets weirdly and rather childishly excited about everything and therefore ends up saying, “Yay!” a lot. Or should it be “Yea!”? Or should it be “Yeah!”? Like me you’ve probably seen this exclamation spelled all three ways by others. I personally prefer “yea,” but will go with “yay” according to the addressee and/or the occasion. For example, I might say, “Yea! I can’t wait to see you again” to a college buddy visiting town. And “Yay! The 2010 reunion is going to rock” to a family member. I never say “Yeah!” b/c I feel it sounds a little too much like I’m pumping my fist in the air when I write it this way, but I do understand what attracts other people to it. Still, I wish we could all agree one way of spelling this exclamation. Then I’d really say yea! Or yay! Or yeah! Sigh… But seriously, how do you think we should spell it? Let’s hash it out in the...

. Proof of Nerd ID by Charles Cron HEALTH CARE DEBATE EDITION According to a recent study, the average hospital stay in Japan is approximately 36 days.

. a favorite blogumn by Amy Brown Amy Says: Sweden cast the most perfect actors in their movie version of the trilogy, out this summer.  Go see them before Hollywood ruins Blomkvist by casting Brad Pitt. From November 24, 2009 Vacations in my house have always involved cleaning and mystery novels. This Thanksgiving has proven to be no different. My mother has embarked on a massive construction project in my childhood home. In order to maneuver, we are required to reorganize all our accrued literature, including my Dad’s old Optics journals and my baby board books. It’s been four days, I’ve culled the contents of fifty cardboard storage boxes to fill nine plastic tubs, and I top off my evening with Motrin each night. Adventuring into the past can prove hazardous, as the eponymous heroine of The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo and her sidekick, Mikael, discover. Mikael Blomkvist, an Encyclopedia Brown of Sweden, grown up, is asked by a retired industrialist to investigate a mysterious disappearance forty years ago. The magnate’s niece, Harriet vanished from an isolated island on a day when an overturned oil truck blocked the only bridge. Each year, a framed pressed flower appears by post, Harriet’s perennial birthday gift to her favorite uncle. Is it a taunt from her murderer? And who on the island hated a young girl enough to kill her? Described this way, the story sounds like a classic Agatha Christie – the kind Mom and I sorted by what seemed like the hundreds into yard sale boxes. I love Agatha Christie novels, and this book lives up to the comparison. But in the modern twist Larsson introduces, Blomkvist is not a detective, but a financial journalist, disgraced in a libel suit and out of a job. The...

From March 22, 2010 Which is a gotdang miracle, considering that it’s beyond awful. But I’ll bet you’ll want to try it after seeing this (not being shown in the States) ad, too. [Source:...

. a favorite blogumn by Monique King-Viehland Monique says: I chose that article for two reasons. One: with my mother’s recent hospitalizations and the death of my grandfather in the ER, as well as my own impending stay in the maternity ward right around the corner; health care reform has been on my mind lately. Both my mother and I (one of us well-insured and one of us under-insured) are fighting separate battles with doctors, insurance companies, etc.. It has become glaringly clear to me that the current system is so very broken. And though I remain optimistic about “Obama-Care,” I am not sure if our health care system can truly be fixed. So it will be nice to see if people, including myself, feel differently about health care reform now that it is “here.” From March 23, 2010 Last night as I watched the historic health care vote come to a triumphant end. I thought to myself that the President and Vice President Biden should have played Kool Moe Dee’s “How You Like Me Now,” over the loud speaker as he walked into the press conference. I can just picture President Obama, decked out in a black kango hat, black shades and black leather jacket… “…I’m no phony, I’m the only real micaroni…” Kool Moe Dee and Ted Kennedy would have been proud. I know I was! In a vote of 219 to 212, the Democrats passed a major health care reform package that would start phasing in expanded coverage, consumer protections, business tax credits, and aid to the elderly as early as this calendar year. About 32 million people without insurance would get coverage in the first 10 years (about half of them through Medicaid) and more reasonably-priced insurance options for individuals...

I’ve been thinking about this blogumn a lot lately just b/c not having the same last name as your husband always becomes a bit more hard to manage when you’re traveling. I know a ton of women who haven’t changed their last names, but apparently a lot of travel professionals don’t. This has come up daily on our trip. Still my original opinion on the matter stands. From March 24, 2009 It’s funny, b/c though I’m a feminist, it would never occur to me to get on top of another woman for changing her name after she got married. For one thing, I do realize that this is a choice, and if you give people a choice, I don’t necessarily see why you would chastise anyone for not making the exact same choice that you would’ve made. Also, I have a few conditions that made not changing my name particularly attractive: As a writer I place a lot more value on my name than a woman in a different profession might. Plus, I love my name. I mean really, really love it. My first name is unusual but not so much so that it’s embarrassing or particularly hard to explain. My middle initial fits in perfectly with my other two names, and because I loathe my middle name it comes with an air of mystery that it wouldn’t otherwise have if I didn’t often refuse to answer the question, “So what does the T stand for?” with anything but “Terrific!” And did I mention that my initials are “etc?” C’mon why would I ever want to change my name? However, a few of my relatives have had a hard time understanding that. One of the few aunts who had dared to navigate the scary...

Hey Guys! Remember when I used to trouble myself with actually posting a “File This Under” when our regular bloggers took off? Yeah, those we’re the good ol’ days. And for the record I still think this is one of the grossest inventions like ever. From February 26, 2009 Gudrun from “Secret Life of a Nerd Girl” is currently stuck in France w/o internet access. Bit of a cowinkydink, I know, given my article earlier this week about not wanting to go anywhere w/o an internet connection. She describes the unexpected wifi disconnect as “quel disatre, but kind of nice” — anyway, she’ll be back w/ another installment of Nerd Girl in two weeks. Meanwhile, I want to introduce you to this rather traumatizing Jezebel item: An invention filed with the U.S. Patent Office allows pregnant women to partially insert a balloon in the vagina and push it out, in order to practice giving birth. According to the patent, when inflated in the vagina, the balloon tapers conically toward the waist, which “causes the orifice of the birth canal to dilate in a manner similar to that caused by the emerging head of a baby.” Pregnant women can then “exercise by pushing the balloon out of the vagina in preparation for giving birth.” Supposedly repeatedly birthing the balloon will make the real thing easier and less painful… Oh, no, no, no! I’m finding it hard to believe that they even found enough pregnant women willing to test out this invention in order to apply for a patent. I’m about to take a birthing class myself, but no way would I want to practice with a balloon. The real thing’s going to be icky enough. . [Source: Jezebel via Inventor...

. a repeat blogumn by Amy Robinson Amy Says: This is the blog I think of when I think back on my FaN career.  It’s mainly fierce with just a little, jelly baby, of nerdy.  This blog reminds me to push past my excuses and fears (and hills) so I can enjoy the beauty on the other side. From February 9, 2009 Sometimes, it seems like every experience I have is a huge, neon metaphor from the universe about my life. This past Sunday, one such metaphor threw itself at me in the form of the Chinatown Firecracker 5k. There is one thing you should know before we continue into this life lessony type story; I am not athletic. I’m moderately active for my heart and mental health. If I could be happy and healthy sleeping in and eating cheese-fries, I’d do it. But then all of the gyms would be out of business because most of us feel the same way. So as the story starts, we find Amy signed up for a 5k run as part of a New Years Resolution to “Run two 5k’s this year”. My husband, Seen, and I love Chinatown + proceeds for this run benefit Chinatown + we’ve been talking about this run for 3 years = Firecracker 5k is the first 5k Seen and I attempt in ‘09. So, I started running at the gym, getting my time down, wrecking my knee. To insure that I’ll actually go through with this, and not wuss out, I tell everyone around me that I’m running this thing. On a Friday, only 9 days to race-time, a co-worker of mine gives me a frightened look when I tell her how jazzed I am about the upcoming run. It seems she was...

From January 26, 2010 Wow, you just can’t make stuff like this up. You also can’t get the sound of “We shake the devil off” out of your head. And I love that the white guy just totally can’t dance. [Source:...

, a favorite blogumn by Kelli Bielema Kelli Says: I think this blogumn is probably fitting because I just killed a tomato plant. It was starting to blossom some fruit, but needed to be staked. I bought the stake on a Saturday eve, with full intent to pound into the dirt Sunday morning. Come sunrise, the poor thing took a dive and lopsided. Produce is for buying at the market. Not for me planting in the soil. From June 15, 2009 I’ve never been outdoorsy or even possessed a mild proclivity to nature. I really don’t know what’s happened to me since I moved to Seattle. Living in Los Angeles’ Los Feliz neighborhood I would hike Griffith Park frequently, and I liked to get fresh flowers occasionally. That was the extent of it. I regularly killed houseplants, including succulents, which I was told were the easiest to grow. It wouldn’t surprise me if I were till annihilate a plastic fern. I moved into a lovely rental home here in Seattle near the end of November 2008. The house was built at the turn of the century (as in the 20th) to provide lodging for the pastor of the neighborhood church. It’s barely 600 square feet, boasts cathedral ceiling (keepin’ the faith, yo), and has a sleeping loft which I utilize as a guest room/storage area. The kitchen is open, with ample counter space and stainless steel appliances. Super fun to cook and entertain in. The bedroom is small and I have significantly edited all the junk in my life. I just need clothes, cookware, artsy things and some bric-a-brac and I am homesteaded. I have a small patio, which I recently adorned with a couple of cushy seats and potted plants (poor suckers don’t...

So we’re doing re-runs of our favorite Fierce and Nerdy blogumns while I’m on my two-week vacation. I chose this column, b/c now that I’ve gotten published I’m asked for even more advice. And this advice on asking for professional advice applies even more so. I would add this to #4: If you’re seeking writing and/or getting published advice from a published author, read her or his book before you ask her or him for any advice or favors. This is one that I thought would go w/o saying. Man, was I wrong about that. So I’m saying it. Dude, you have no business asking anyone for advice if you haven’t done the basic act of reading/watching/researching whatever credit made you think this person might be a good one to ask for advice. From November 11, 2009 So lately I’ve been in the somewhat weird position of being asked for professional advice. Don’t get me wrong, I love giving and asking for advice, however, I’ve noticed the following sometimes-common mistakes: 1. Not Asking For Specific Advice. Now I love hearing about other writers’ backgrounds and how they came to writing and their journey so far. Seriously, I eat that ish up, so keep it coming. However, I just hate when the email ends like this: “So I’d appreciate any advice you might have.” Really? You want ALL my writing or getting published or blogging advice? Because I have a ton of it. I mean enough to write a book, which I would then expect you to buy. This is the one time you shouldn’t be general. Ask a specific question or even questions and you’re more likely to get a response from anyone you ask for professional advice. 2. Over presumption. If I haven’t...