So, tomorrow I start on the grand trek to the airport that will eventually lead me to DragonCon. I’m not sure about connectivity there in Atlanta, especially with Ernesto wandering up the coast. So I’ll leave you a few things to keep you company.

First of all, there’s my interview over at EvolutionWriters.com, done by the wonderful Nonny. Among other things, I talk about happy endings and the difference between small press and large press.

Dead Man Rising officially comes out September 1. For all who asked, early sales don’t hurt me at all. I believe they’re called “presales” and they count toward the total number of books sold, which is what publishers look at.

I mostly finished the revisions on Cloud Watcher. I will have to come back to it and give it a final booting when I get back from the con. I literally just got the revisions on Monday, so really it’s not my fault. I don’t know when the book is coming out now, but you can ask the publisher if you want a firm date.

I believe I will be taking Noam Chomsky’s Necessary Illusions to read, but other nominations for my book pile are yet to be broached. I’ll worry about packing my clothes first. And my camera. And…*stares blankly into space*

The DHM did manage to get me another car, since Babette the Mitsubishi blew out her main seal on the road while I was coming back on Sunday. Further bulletins as events warrant. But I do have to register that the DHM is a lovely man and deserves a big cookie. I told him we didn’t need another car until after I got back from the convention.

His response? “I didn’t want you to worry while you were gone.”

All together now. “Awwwwwww!”

And from the AP wire: Warren Jeffs is in custody! That’s a big Christmas present right there. For those of you unfamiliar with the story, Jeffs is the head of a fundamentalist polygamist Mormon cult, wanted for trafficking young girls across state lines to serve the lusts of his coterie.

When Trooper Eddie Dutchover walked up to the vehicle, something seemed amiss. Jeffs said the group had stayed in Las Vegas for a night, but they had too much luggage, Dutchover told The Associated Press. Jeffs also offered a contact lens receipt from Florida with the name John Findley as identification, the trooper said.

No weapons were found in the vehicle, but authorities said they found three wigs, 15 cell phones, letters to “President Warren Jeffs,” $54,000 in cash and $10,000 in gift cards. (Myrtle Beach Online)

Sometimes the world does work the way it should. Now let’s see if he can be held accountable for his crimes.

Last but not least: thanks to everyone who sent a “welcome back, and sorry about your car” email. The support REALLY helps. Big hugs!

Off I go to pack for the convention! *Ride of the Valkyries playing on kazoo*

I do read all the comments. Unfortunately, WordPress doesn’t send me comment notifications, so I can’t respond the way I’d like. I do see them all, I just sometimes can’t respond.

*sad face*

So tomorrow I’ll be devoting a whole day to packing for DragonCon. Today I have the last-minute revisions on Cloud Watcher to work on.

As for the Con, here’s the panels I know I’m scheduled for:

Read On, If You Dare »

So, I’m back from Bellingham. Bellingham is a totally awesome city. It’s bike-friendly, there are natural food stores and two AMAZING yarn stores, as well as Michael’s Books, a bookstore that makes me drool every time I think about the dusty old stacks. Mmmh. Drool, I tell you.

Highlights of the weekend spent with my sister include meeting her friends (and a weiner dog and several cats) and going out to lunch, breakfast, and dinner at amazing places (like Taco Lobo and the Old Town Cafe–more on that in a moment), shopping at Fairhaven (mmmh, yarn…and the amber rings…and the sunny day) and then knitting in Boulevard Park while my sister napped in the shade.

My last morning in Bellingham we went to the Old Town Cafe, which serves local food (grown locally, if possible) and where everyone does every job, from cook to host. They also have the “community table,” where if you don’t want to wait for a private table you sit and other people who feel similarly can be seated as well. We ate along with Merrill (who was surprised I knew China Mieville’s name) and Jim, who does amazing Japanese metalwork. Strangely enough, the conversational barrier was broken by my sister enquiring about a book Jim was reading–one of matociquala’s books, Worldwired–and everything went on from there. Merrill promised to read WFTD (don’t worry, M., I won’t hold it against you if you don’t. *grin*)

I bought all sorts of presents and am looking forward to giving them.

And then, Sunday, I started home.

It was a good thing I needed to stop to visit my youngest sister in Seattle. Because as I was going through Everett (traffic there is ALWAYS bad) my car threatened to overheat. Fortunately, the DHM was in Bellevue for the day, visiting kendo folk, so he came over the bridge and took a look at my car. The problem appeared to be a split hose, which he replaced with MacGyver-esque speed and deftness. We put more antifreeze and water in, and eventually started home with the DHM following me to make sure I was all right.

Thank God he was. My car nearly blew up in Kent.

To the people in the convertible in the lane I veered into: please don’t blame me. You were going ninety in a sixty zone and I didn’t see you, and the only reason I had my cell phone to my ear was because I was freaking out over MY CAR BLOWING UP and the DHM was talking me into the next exit, where he had seen a gas station.

So. At the Shell station, after my car stops working. AAA was called, and the car towed to a local mechanic (thank you, Sam from A-US Towing, you are a very nice man and deserve a BIG kudo.) I was in such a state that Sam the tow truck guy said, “Just go on now. I’ll take care of this. I’ll call your cell phone when I’ve dropped the car off and put the key in the night drop. You just go on now, dear.”

So then it was finding dinner for the kidlets, who were very excited by this chain of events (life is indeed an adventure) and the long drive back home. We rolled in around midnight, or slightly thereafter, and after I got everything out of the van I settled down to read a bit, being in somewhat of an excited state myself.

I’m not even going to worry about the car until after DragonCon. I just can’t. Unfortunately that means I won’t get into the bookstore before I head out to Atlanta. *sad face* I have a present for the Kiwi and a present for the Selkie, and I can’t wait to give them. *another sad face*

But…I made it home. My car didn’t get unsteady until after the weekend was over. The DHM was right there, and everything was taken care of. So if it had to happen, it happened in the best way possible. I think the Dear Husband Muffin deserves a medal.

Or a brownie button.

So. I’m home for a few days, and damn happy to be here. There’s just something about one’s own bed.

Off I go to weed through my inbox…

First of all, it rained last night. Thank God. But that’s not as cool as this: Johnny Depp is playing Sweeney Todd. Yes. And Tim Burton is directing, precioussssss. It’s enough to make any self-respecting girl swoon. The only way this could be better is if Angela Lansbury was still young enough to do Mrs. Lovett. (It’s…priest. Try a little priest…)

This makes me so happy I could cry.

I’m about to leave tomorrow to visit my sister in Bellingham. I’m going to enjoy the break and be back just in time to wash my clothes and pack for DragonCon, which I am also going to enjoy. My lovely assistant, Christina Radish, will be meeting Nina Merrill and me there. Christina is the lovely lady who has taken it upon herself to answer some fan questions so I can devote more time to writing. *waves vigorously* Hi, Christina! Who says I never mention you? *wink*

Several of you have written and commented to ask me about Danny’s necklace in DMR. Yes, the silver-dipped baculum are what you think they are when you google “baculum.” I got the idea mostly from the Vavamojos, (I have a pair of Vavamojo earrings) but I’d been aware that baculums have been used in magic and shamanism (especially fertility or sex magic) for quite some time. The baculum in Danny’s necklace were bought from antique and occult stores in the Tank District. Jace worked for a long time over that necklace.

*blanks out for a moment*

There I go again, talking about imaginary people. In any case, the necklace is important for future events. And it looks good on Danny. She’s just as vain as any–femina laudem vult, you know.

Talking about imaginary people again.

In any case, I’ve started stressing over the flight there and back. I don’t like flying. It’s not the actual flying I have a problem with, though any rational person should have a little bit of a problem with doing something humans were not intended to do so casually. (Icarus, anyone?) My problem exists during takeoff and landing, and at the airport itself. So many people crammed together, excited and nervous and what-have-you, makes for a very nervous Lili. Plus there’s a whole rant I could go into about how airline “security” is left in the hands of subcontracted company where people aren’t paid or treated well enough to care if something is going to go wrong. If the screeners are really what’s saving my plane from being blown up, I want them paid well. But then, I also want nurses, teachers, and daycare operators paid top dollar, since these are the people educating our future or taking care of me when I (God forbid) need the hospital. It doesn’t seem likely to happen (the majority of nurses, teachers, and daycare operators are women, and that seems to preclude them being paid for what conservatives trumpet as the most important jobs around but suddenly develop amnesia over when budget time comes…

…and let’s not even talk about the price women pay for motherhood.

In any case, I’ll have Nina with me to help me through the takeoff and landing. And she’s so good at organizing and herding (which I am dismal at) that I really have very little qualm about setting my lines to her tug and following her out to sea. If the harbar can be reached, we’ll reach it.

Of course, if there are pirates on the high seas, my own talents come into play. *grin*

All right. I might not write for a while, so I’ll leave you with two things–Dead Man Rising is already shipping from Amazon, which is exciting and nerve-wracking at once.

Here’s the second thing, from our very own green Jedi Master.

Luminous beings are we, not this crude matter.

Namaste.

Okay, so I buckled down and got the work done. You can find the PDF download of the Dead Man Rising Fiction Contest winners by clicking here. (You need Adobe Acrobat to view the PDF, I believe.)

Enjoy!

This makes me absurdly happy: Snakes On a Plane via Chaucer. (Courtesy of the Quiet Selkie.) Why does Middle English make me so happy I could just do a lyttle Snoopie danse? It certainly isn’t the fluid spelling.

Here’s a taste.

Then Sir Sean did see manye knightes comynge to that place and so he hid hymself among the bushes. And Kyng Edichim ycam wyth his knightes and dide kille the eremyte. And Sir Sean made to fle but his bootes made a sounde and the knightes spyede hym and gave hym chase. And thogh he scapede from hem, thei sawe wher he rode and knew of his lodging. Therwithal Kyng Edichim sente thre of his knightes to Sir Seanes lodging for to slayen hym for he had sene hys foule deede. And thus cam aftir vespers Sir Stuntman Number Oon and Sir Stuntman Number Two, son of Expendable Extra who had done manye deedes in the dayes of Uther Pendragon, and wyth hem Sir Stuntman Number Thre.

And so the miscreant knightes wolde break ope the doore of Sir Seanes room and slaye him foullie, but that SIR NEVILLE DE FLYNN cam and seyde to Sir Sean, ‘Sir Knight, if thou shalt do my biddynge than thou shalt scape wyth thy lyf,’ and bad Sir Sean to hye hym from that place. And then Sir Neville made hym redy, wyth one spere he smote hem downe al thre over ther horses croups. This kynde of thynge was ful yn his style, for hys verye wallet hath ‘bad motherswyvere’ on it ywrit.

Son of Expendable Extra? Hys verye wallet? Bad motherswyvere?

Take me. I’m yours.

I finished House of Leaves and Berlin Noir last night. House of Leaves was an effort to read, not the least because of the sometimes-randomly distributed text. I enjoyed it immensely, though I will say it’s not a book for everyone. It will only annoy those who thought the dialogue in V for Vendetta was “stunted” because V was quoting Shakespeare.

But that’s an entirely separate rant. Right now I’m concentrating on how I want MORE BERNIE GUNTHER. I should write to Philip Kerr and tell him I’ve fallen in serious literary lust with Bernie and all I want is more. Do you think he’d respond or would he toss the letter into the “crazy chick” pile?

It’s looking like the PDF with the Dead Man Rising Fiction Contest winners’ stories will premiere next Monday, since I haven’t heard back from two of the winners yet. (Want to see if you’re a winner? Go here.)

For those of you wanting a wee bit of hilarity with your daily blogstaring, check out this post about how some woman who has to use the Internet to find a date considers herself “high-quality.” Then go here and read the sarcastic response. Then read Kate Rothwell’s response. And last but not least, die laughing.

My jaw literally dropped while reading the narcissistic explosion that set this all off; since when does putting your profile on the Internet and getting hits make one desirable dating material? Maybe I’m a bit old-fashioned–I tend to think that anyone plastering themselves on the Web and so transparently begging for romance stinks of desperation at the very least and possible perversion at the worst. Especially when the transparent begging takes the form of, “I’m too bloody good for you.”

You want to get people to notice you? Get out of the damn house. Volunteer at the library. Volunteer at the animal shelter. Go to dance classes. Take a few community-college courses. Do something to get your mind off yourself and onto helping other people or improving yourself. Not only will it make you a better person, but it will also introduce you to other volunteers and nice people, widening your circle of acquantances and upping your chances of finding someone decent to hold hands with. Sadly enough, dating is like publishing–a numbers game, by and large. You have to have a statistical pool big enough to find someone you don’t want to throttle or run screaming from the morning after.

But hey, I met my mate in meatspace and have settled down with him, two kidlings, and three cats. (Is it three cats? I thought I saw a new one yesterday. Please, God. No more cats. I’m begging you.) I’m hardly qualified to judge what people do when they’re desperate for nookie or a little warmth against the human condition of solitude.

But I’m still laughing until coffee burbles in my nose each time I read the responses to this astonishing act of self-stroking.

This last weekend was a blast, but also exhausting. The Uptown Village Street Fair was going on, so instead of just working half a day on Saturday I worked pretty much all day Saturday and most of Sunday. Which, in eighty-ninety degree heat, just wiped me out. Last night I could barely keep my eyes open, and didn’t finish the second disc of the first season of 24, which I have made it a mission to watch since I am a fool for Kiefer Sutherland. Don’t laugh. I’ve been down with Kiefer ever since the Lost Boys, okay?

Shut up. Quit laughing. You can laugh later. When I tell you how totally pathetic I am.

Read On, If You Dare »

And at last, the announcement we’ve all been waiting for. *grin* Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you the Dead Man Rising Fiction Contest winners!

Read On, If You Dare »

First of all, the fantastically cool: they are making a movie out of Perfume: The Story of a Murderer, by Patrick Suskind. This is the book I was so excited about a while ago, buying copies to give to everyone. Even cooler, Alan Rickman, who I have a huge fetish for, is going to be in the movie.

As my grandfather used to say, it just don’t get no better than that, folks.

In news slightly closer to home, the last week of the Dead Man Rising ARC Giveaway is upon us. Just go to Demented Michelle’s and comment on this post. I’ve also received over fifty entries for the Dead Man Rising Fiction Contest, and it’s going to be hard choosing the winners. I should have the winners by the end of the week–and thanks to everyone who participated!

Plus, there’s another giveaway–when the Saint City Street Fair reaches a hundred members, the members that have commented on this topic will get a chance to win a signed copy of Working for the Devil to add to their collection.

I also received a lovely package from my editor yesterday containing two real, no-foolin’, actual book copies of Dead Man Rising. The error in the glossary is fixed and all the little fiddles have been taken care of, I think. I managed to do the Snoopy happy dance while clutching said tomes to my chest. (Who says authors are boring?) Of course, this means that the books have been printed and will be shipped very soon. So it’s almost zero hour.

I’m still nervous as a long-tailed cat in a room of rocking chairs. But seeing the books was a tremendous jolt that walloped a lot of my nervousness right out of me. It’s like being on a rollercoaster–once you’ve strapped yourself in and you’re at the crest of that first big hill, you may as well relax. Nothing you do will make any difference.

It also says in the books that The Devil’s Right Hand, the third Valentine book, is due for publication in July 2007. I wonder if I should start stressing over that now?

Naah. I’ve got other things to fret over, like the upcoming plane ride to Atlanta for DragonCon. I’ll post my tentative panel schedule later.

Right now I’ve got to go squee my fool head off over a pair of very nice paperback books.

With my name on them.

Yup. It certainly don’t get any better than that.