If you are lucky to work for a nice big company, you have an HR department. HR does great things like put up notices of an open position, screen resumes, and set up interviews.

However, if you work for a small, independent game company and your production assistant was one of the casualties of a recent layoff -- well, you're on your own, sister.

( An exciting expose on how to organize a hiring! )

Next up: how to gently tell people they are not exceptions to the rule.

I am probably tougher on applicants than I should be. This is the magazine's influence: we learned to cheerfully bounce anyone who failed to follow our submission rules because 99% of the time, their writing was no good anyway.

And these weren't difficult submission rules. Double spaced. Courier. Black on white. Single-sided. 1.5" gutters. Standard, simple rules that any writer -- even an amateur -- knows.

But we got it all. Spiral bound, fancy fonts, illustrations, a different color for every page, floppy disks (well, it was the mid-90s), cover letters longer than the story itself (okay, that's exaggerating).

I can go on and I'm sure there are more with worse.

When I began, I was soft-hearted. I was soft-hearted because in my head I was "one of them". I was horrified that my boss would bounce a story without even reading it because it failed the guidelines test. I felt they deserved a chance.

Until I read the stories and realized: no. No, they really didn't. It was, as someone put it to me, a "filter". If they couldn't follow instructions, it was a pretty good chance that their story wasn't worth reading anyway.

But regardless, I wanted to help them. And there was an outlet for that, in the form of the mighty highlighter. As part of my job as manuscript processor, I would take a copy of the submission guidelines and I'd highlight the section Where They Done Fucked Up and mail it back to them. 99% of them got the point. Sometimes they even resubmitted with the problems fixed.

(This is assuming they included a SASE with their submission. Quite a few of the guideline-breakers didn't, and thus likely remain in ignorance to this day as to why their story fell into a black hole at MZBFM.)

So here I am, once again acting as a gatekeeper. This time, though, I'm reviewing resumes, and I admit -- frustration. Because people have not changed. Which includes me: the part of me that wants to give people a chance is contending with the part of me that doesn't have time to sit down and hold everyone's hand when they don't include a resume, or send a letter telling me to "call them", or do anything on the extremely short list of things that we asked them not to do on the job posting.

I'm a bit incredulous at it because...this isn't a short story submission. This is a chance at a full-time job, with benefits, writing for a living. And I just sort of assume that people will...y'know...read the guidelines. First impressions, right? Why would you blow that?

One friend put it into perspective for me when I said I was feeling like I was being too judgmental: when you're reviewing resumes, that's what you're expected to do. If you're too soft, you hire the wrong guy/gal, and then what?

So, y'know, maybe this blog post will get read where our guidelines weren't. And maybe some of the people who I've flat-out deleted from my voicemail will read this and realize why they're not going to get a phonecall from me: because our guidelines on Craigslist said don't call us. Because if we wanted calls, we'd have included a phone number. Because we are not a big company with a big HR department and it's just me and Eric going through these. Because I don't have the time to chase you down and talk to you about our job. I'd rather not do it at all, but if you do have questions, there's always email.

Maybe you're the greatest, awesomest writer in the world. But if you can't follow simple instructions, I can't in good conscience employ you.

So forgive me for being callus -- I'm just doing my job.

Looking for a comedy writer. See job posting.

Aside: know of an awesome place to put free job postings? Leave me a comment. I would like to get the word out. Thanks!

Oh, I admit it. I just wanted to use my new avatar.

And when did May become Geek Movie Month?

This is me, being a bastard in Mafia Wars.

19 minutes ago:
You were attacked by Don Gill.
You lost the fight, taking 21 damage and losing $100,000.

9 minutes ago:
Katrina Leona claimed your $8,000 bounty on Don Gill.

8 minutes ago:
You were punched in the face by Don Gill, receiving 3 damage.

8 minutes ago:
You were punched in the face by Don Gill, receiving 2 damage.

8 minutes ago:
Don Berfield claimed your $80,000 bounty on Don Gill.

6 minutes ago:
You were robbed by Don Gill.
Your property lost 4% of its health and your enemy made off with $816,130.

6 minutes ago:
You were robbed by Don Gill.
Your property lost 4% of its health and your enemy made off with $816,130.

5 minutes ago:
the mace claimed your $8,000,000 bounty on Don Gill.

4 minutes ago:
\\\"Rickster\\\" claimed your $800,000 bounty on Don Gill.

2 minutes ago:
You were attacked by Don Gill.
You lost the fight, taking 14 damage and losing $630.

2 minutes ago:
Lefty claimed your $8,000 bounty on Don Gill.

1 minute ago:
[JMG] SwytScorpion claimed your $8,000 bounty on Don Gill.

0 minutes ago:
Don McCarthy claimed your $8,000 bounty on Don Gill.

Getting tagged by some anonymous player? Meh. Six Seven (7) hits on the same guy in nine (9) minutes? Awesome.

The boyfriend walked in for his afternoon kiss, took a glance at my screen, and stopped dead in his tracks.

"Say it," I said.

"That --"

"Say it!" I barked.

"That's code."

"I told you I was a coder!"

He gave a shudder, as if trying to shake off a bad dream. "Sorry, honey, that's just scary."

"Coder!" I yelled, jabbing my thumbs toward my chest. "That's me! Hoo-hah!"

Yeah, so, the recent work project has involved javascript, and that's my field, so....

sdshaver.com is now all blue and swirly. In a surprising turn of events, I don't hate the design, though I'm sure in about two years I will.

Times like this I wish I'd bothered to add Flash ("Ahhh-aaah!") to my repertoire. I tried. I remember going to seminars. I bought books. But there was just no bandwidth for it.

And now, back to weapons.

Mike P: What was the text editor you guys use to use.
Me on AIM: Uh. Ultraedit?
Mike P: Before that.
Me on AIM: I think it was PFE?
Mike P: Yep.
Me on AIM: http://www.lancs.ac.uk/staff/steveb/cpaap/pfe/
Mike P: Thanks.
Me on AIM: So long ago.
Me on AIM: And before that, we used the editor in the old IFEs.
Me on AIM: Which corrupted files.
Me on AIM: It was so awesome.
Me on AIM: SO AWESOME.
Mike P: :)
Me on AIM: Whole scripts. Poof.
Me on AIM: Steph, sobbing softly in her overly ginormous chair at Marion's place.
Mike P: Got it.
Me on AIM: And before that?
Me on AIM: STONE TABLETS.
Mike P: Minimizing you now.
Me on AIM: The worst part was when we had to try and edit on AOL's client.
Mike P: Hiding my task bar.
Me on AIM: It didn't allow tabs.
Mike P: ::smooch!::
Me on AIM: Okay, I'm done.

(Not ironic at all sidenote: I edited this post mostly in Ultraedit.)

Steph has been:

• Dieting.
• Working.
• Keeping quiet about what she's working on.
• Not playing games.

That last one is mostly due to the extracurricular stuff, which has included overtime and enjoying the sudden spring weather.

For instance, I would really love once again to get back into WoW and play the expansion. I have the expansion. I liked what I played during the trial. I just don't have any damn time. And neither does Mike, Mr. Drood to Steph's Hunter.

It was an effort just to make time for the BSG finale. We haven't even touched Burn Notice. People! I am too busy for Burn Notice! What the hell?

But I have faith things will settle, and we'll once again get around to the things we love. Until then, I just keep on keepin' on, and try not to think about the boxed collector's edition collecting dust on my couch.

In case anyone should be like me and google "wordpress movable type import line breaks WHY THE FUCK WON'T IT WORK", here's what you do to fix it.

( Only important if you are having problem with linebreaks in your Movable Type -> Wordpress import. )

This week at work, I am hashing out design (which usually involves arguing) and mocking up GUIs (which usually involves me being alone with Photoshop and a closed office door).

Game design. It's an exciting life I lead, I tell ya.

Damn Trader Joe's. I'm craving corned beef. All their fault with their "samples" and their pleasant, smiling "sample lady".

Maybe I'll pick some up. It's physically painful for me to pay $13 for a cut of meat. Even one that will last several meals.

I've been plotting. I won't go into much more detail than that.

I really want to change the sdshaver.com site to be just the blog and a biblio. I'd rather entrust my photos to Flickr anymore, so there's no need to keep the gallery (or keep updating the gallery software), and these intentions are all charming and lovely, but it also means time, and I'd rather be writing.

Yeah, so, if you've been reading the blogs of SF writers and fans on Livejournal, you know what "RaceFail 09" is.

If you've been confused by it you should really go read Mary Ann Mohanraj's essay over on Scalzi's blog.

It's good. It rings true. It may actually be the best thing that's come from the mire.

Been doing GDD (Game Development Doc) work this last week. It's refreshing and fun and the kind of thing I am starting to understand that I do really well. (Typical reaction to my GDD pages: "Ahh. I see!" Typical reaction to other peoples' GDD pages: "...can't you use more bullet points?")

It's all about the bullet points, baby. Well, and headings. And:

• Conciseness.
• Clarity.
• Relying on real-world examples over explanation.
• Omitting needless words.

Unfortunately, most writers I meet wanting to break into the gaming industry as designers don't have these skills to start. Their writing is dense rather than lightweight. They take a long time to get to the salient points.

When you're a genre writer, you don't tend to be lightweight because you're trying to embalm the reader in your world-escaping juices. I accredit text-based games with teaching me to be lightweight. First, we had a hard character limit and couldn't break it. Second, when you're faced with two hundred room descriptions of forest, you learn not to blow your wad on the first ten.

Impatient upper management taught me to Get To the Fucking Point. Eventually becoming management drove this home further.

I've really gone off on a tangent here (something I don't have the luxury of in a GDD), but to conclude: monkeys.

That's it. Just monkeys.

"So, baby," I said, in my best 1-900 voice, which admittedly is pretty good.

"Yeah?" Mike wandered in from the other room to look at me.

"Howsabout --" I grabbed his waist "-- Friday night --"

His brow shot up.

"-- you and me --" I continued, batting my eyelashes and swaying suggestively.

"Mmhm?"

"-- order a pizza --"

"Unh-huh?"

"-- and stay at work and do overtime all. Night. Long."

"Ooh baby," he said, hugging me. "You know me so well."

Yeah...yeah, we're basically a match made in hell.

Revisions carry on. I am still struggling a little with the story (I blame the characters, of course) (and specifically Wil) (Not Wheaton), but as usual I now have a great idea for the next one, not the least of which is continuing to ruin Lelia's life by putting her into situations where people mistake her for a Herald.

This is hilarious to me, and I wish I'd thought of it months ago rather than this morning. I'll just have to hope for another anthology and another invite so I can properly get the idea out.

Until then -- I still don't know what I'm writing next. The Guy and I are discussing creating a schedule by which I will have set writing nights. Nights I would not be cooking, you see. Nights where he might. Oh my.

Tonight the great revisions have started, and I only have tonight to write the next draft. We have hit the halfway point, which means it is now officially Vietnamese Noodle Salad time.

I am still trying to come up with a spring roll/noodle sauce that equals the stuff I get at Pho Grand, but I think I have come closer to that lofty goal tonight.

And now: I cook.

I carried with me three books to Mexico, and somehow managed to only truly enjoy one.

No desire to disclose the titles, but here is what I will say: I am tired of the "girls kick ass, too" genre.

I am not tired of girls kicking ass, I am just tired of the ", too" part of that phrase. I'm tired of books written to showcase ass-kicking girls, and with disposable characters that rudely point out that the girls are kicking ass, and inevitably get their asses handed to them by said girls. I'm tired of editors who choose to wrap the books in cover flaps that promise the characters as "able to take care of themselves" or "don't need a man".

I just -- I -- ARGH.

I note that a large number of these stories rarely damage the girls involved, or if they do they are always either in the past (read: rape) or temporary (scratches, bruises, being "knocked out", limbs that are easily mended). They don't vomit, they don't drool, they don't get concussions and bleed all over their awesome armor, they don't get their lovely, flowing locks fried off by a flaming mace.

The problem with being an ass-kicker is that inevitably, you miss the ass you are aiming for, and something will wind up badly damaged: probably you. I am not talking about a psyche or a broken heart, I am talking about whole limbs, your character's pretty, pretty face, or her life.

(The exception is Women in Refrigerators syndrome, but these are almost always supporting characters, and not the story's focus. In that case, the girl may kick ass, but her maiming is ultimately a tool meant to strike at the heart of the hero who cares about her well-being.)

This tendency to want to make a girl bulletproof (aka "an ass-kicker") makes me think that subconsciously, the writer is putting his or her women on a pedestal. A pedestal lightly dusted with grit...but a pedestal all the same. By making them so very excellent, they make them "safe". Which makes them boring. And hence this entry.

Last year I went to a memorial for my great-uncle who died in WWII. There is a plaque to him now at Mount Soledad in San Diego.

There are a lot of plaques there, actually. And one I noticed was Lori Piestewa's. The media liked to point out she was a woman, and the first native American to die in service to the U.S. military.

I'll tell you what I saw there. A plaque, one among many for someone who lost a life in service to their country. I saw someone honored for her deeds, not her gender.

At some point, I hope more writers can do the same.

Steph has been:

• Writing.
  
• Working.
  
• Snorting and rolling her eyes at that Wired "vaporware 2008" list.
  
• Writing some more.
  
• Getting ready for a trip to Playa del Carmen.
  
• Getting electrodes glued to her head.
  
• Not updating her livejournal.
  

Steph will be back in a few weeks, when she'll probably have something to say about Wrath or "Wotlick", as she likes to say (as of this moment). Until then: we're on Central Mojito Time and it's Steph O'Clock. Bye now!

It's a year to the day when Mike and I first started dating (he asked me out on New Year's Eve).

We bought a lottery ticket today.

Just sayin'.