Soundtrack to the Motion Picture

I'm crossposting this from The Crimespace Bar, since it serves as an intro. Also because I totally chumped out at the Book Expo and didn't 'officially' introduce myself to some fellow Crimespacers -- the way they might recognize me here, that is. The verbatim follows:

"Red wine trumps damn near anything else poured into a glass.

My name is Tiffany Leigh. Which is true, or mostly true. That is to say the designation "part-time girl" in my profile applies literally.

I'm… Continue

I would never name my child Jason Voorhees.
Wooded
lakeside camps have always been forlornly creepy.
Silent giants wearing hockey masks out of context is now nightmare-inducing.

But calendrically there's nothing inherently scary about Friday the 13th. The date is arbitrary. It could have been "Tuesday the 27th."

[insert Wilhelm scream here!!!!].

Some fun facts, courtesy of the one-stop depository of all… Continue

In high school this is how I was taught to write news articles: the "inverted pyramid;" the "lede;" the "five W's and an H." Tease all facts out of the event, record said facts coherently into the template, spell-check, fact-check, print, read. Ta-da! Journalism 101.

The covered events could be boring or exciting, even historic. But that's immaterial to how they should be uniformly reported. When I read news I want information only… Continue

In the grand tradition (urban legend or romantic truth?) of Picasso paying his tabs with on-the-spot sketches, Esquire Magazine solicited authors to pen impromptu stories on cocktail napkins.

Esquire cast its net over the typical Esquire demographic -- mostly male, white, "serious" fiction or Belles Letterers (Rick Moody, Ben Schrank, Jonathan Ames, were notables). The closest they got to genre that I recog… Continue

[This is cross-posted to within an inch of its life in numerous places, but I wanted to puff out my Crimespace profile with a first post and this is a good sample. For the day-to-day I have my LJ feed linked to the left and at the bottom of this page.]

Music's my petrol, my caffeine, my heat, my light. I write to what's currently sending me. And like Crash Davis in Bull Durham, I HATE people who get the words wrong.

And people always do. Isn't "excuse me while I eat this… Continue