That feeling when you’re trying to balance the names of the characters in a space opera novel so that they don’t all start with the same letter, and you end up staring at a bunch of letters, shuffling them around, until written language doesn’t mean anything anymore…
Author: marylowd
Heathers vs. Les Mis
That feeling when you’re tempted to write an essay explaining how Heathers is a better musical than Les Miserables. But there are probably better uses of your time, so you try to let the feeling pass.
Grow the Public Domain
Under 1978 copyright law, Spider-Man would have entered the public domain in 2019.
I just saw someone arguing that public domain Spider-Man would be a nightmare, cause then people could make him trans/gay/bi/etc.
Copyright law right now is on the side of evil and fascism. Continue reading “Grow the Public Domain”
The Years Start Coming…
German Chocolate Cake in a Cup
Me: I should really focus more on my writing…
Also me: puts lure on coffee shop PokéStop
The story-telling part of my brain is acting like a dog who I’ve put on a leash but doesn’t want to go on a walk… just lying there on the floor, pretending to have no feet and insisting that if I want it to write stories, I’ll have to drag it.
T.K., Truggster, and Kermit urge me to add words to my blank page, but instead, I stubbornly go buy another drink because this place has one called “German chocolate cake in a cup,” and I must try it.

Update: it is A-MA-ZING.
There is soooooo much sugar in this German-chocolate-cake-in-a-cup drink. Sooooooo much.
Stomach: why are you putting this much sugar in me? oof
Brain: we will bathe in the brilliance of sugary goodness forever! feed us sugar and you can write again!
Me, working on a story that makes no sense: “Wait, wait, no, stop, what if there was an octopus… that… used to be eight mice????”
I am told that letting me buy a giant inflatable narwhal on this much of a sugar high would be like letting someone get a tattoo while drunk. But giant inflatable rainbow-and-sparkle blue narwhals are waaaay less permanent.
So, I came down from the sugar high of the German-chocolate-cake-in-a-cup drink… but there was still a third of it left… and it was mine… so… I mean… I had to drink it… And now I’m flying again. I do not know how they cram that much sugar into one drink.
Julie Andrews
11-yr-old: “Julie Andrews is never going to sing me to sleep.”
Me: “You could listen to her singing while falling asleep…”
11: “Not in person! And that’s something I’m just going to have to deal with…”
Presidents and Miscellany
Veep (2012-2019) is a really important show. If you have reservations about a woman president, you should watch it. Not because it shows a woman doing a good job as president (it’s a comedy—everyone’s comically terrible at their jobs) but because it normalizes the concept.
Also, if you just want the power trip of watching a woman be president, Veep is awesome. Continue reading “Presidents and Miscellany”
I Feel the Earth Move
The earthquake simulator at OMSI no longer sings Carole King’s “I Feel the Earth Move,” and this is deeply wrong, so Daniel is singing it for me.
Tasty Chefs, Veep, and Doubts to Donuts
I binged all of “I Draw, You Cook” over the last few days, and now I kind of want to write furry fan fiction about all the Tasty chefs.
I’ve been watching Veep (2012-2019) & I have to wonder how much funnier it might have been as it was coming out. At this point, it’s kind of gently humorous, but the outlandish situations seem… tame. Mostly, I’m just enjoying the wish-fulfillment of watching a woman president. Continue reading “Tasty Chefs, Veep, and Doubts to Donuts”
The Promise of New Heffe
by Mary E. Lowd
Originally published in Exploring New Places, July 2018

The evacuation of Heffe VIII occurred when Jeaunia was only a pup. Her memories of waiting in the long lines on the hot spaceport tarmac were dim. She did remember playing games with her cousins on the crowded flight to Crossroads Station afterward, and she thought she could remember the view of the swollen Heffen sun through the spaceship’s rear windows. She couldn’t be sure, though. The bloody smear of red giant sunlight in her memories could have been a fabrication. She had been very young. Continue reading “The Promise of New Heffe”