She would like to know if anybody who is reading this journal has a WisCon membership for sale. You could leave a comment here if you had one for her.
Now, back to your regularly scheduled rengeekery. For the writers out there: Shakespeare and Jonson on professional jealousy, respectively:
Was it the proud full sail of his great verse,
Bound for the prize of all too precious you,
That did my ripe thoughts in my brain inhearse,
Making their tomb the womb wherein they grew?
Was it his spirit, by spirits taught to write
Above a mortal pitch, that struck me dead?
No, neither he, nor his compeers by night
Giving him aid, my verse astonished.
He, nor that affable familiar ghost
Which nightly gulls him with intelligence
As victors of my silence cannot boast;
I was not sick of any fear from thence:
But when your countenance fill'd up his line,
Then lack'd I matter; that enfeebled mine.
To John Donne
DONNE, the delight of Phoebus, and each Muse,
Who, to thy one, all other braines refuse;
Whose every work, of thy most early wit,
Came forth example, and remaines so, yet;
Longer a knowing, than most wits do live;
And which no affection praise enough can give!
To it, thy language, letters, arts, best life,
Which might with halfe mankinde maintaine a strife;
All which I meant to praise, and, yet, I would;
But leave, because I cannot as I should!
Don't you feel better now?
I know I do.
Ben Jonson's unofficial motto: "If you can't keep it in your pants, keep it in the peerage."