Have a look what my publisher sent me today. Don't you just want to buy it? I know you do.
Observant, long-time readers may note the change of title :) Really observant, really long-time reders may remember it was the original title when it was first picked up by Prime. I'm grateful that Prime supremo Sean Wallace has decided to go with it: it's always been my favourite option, and I've been a real pain in the arse, agitating to keep it all this time. And it's led to artist Gary Nurrish creating this magnificent cover.
Buy me. Buy meeee.......
BATTERSDUO IN PRINT, AND PROGRESS ON THE PAGES AT HOME
Borderlands 6 is out. My story The Imprisonment of Marianne sits between its covers, and just as excitingly, Luscious' The Hanging Tree is in there as well! Read this one: it's proof that The Memory of Breathing was no one-off.
Lyn's recent story in the Redback issue of Shadowed Realms prompted Horrorscope to say this:
Starting the issue off is Lyn Battersby's Edges. Talk about dysfunctional relationships! There are some nice transitions between 'characters' here that very effectively resolved my initial feelings of unease into fear. The main character's terror and desperation are palpable but, in the end, it's five against one... not good odds for saving a relationship.
It goes on to say that this issue is the strongest one so far, boding well for both SR and my darling, who continues to make Ben Peek look like an idiot.
In good writing news, the lack of a computer in recent days has forced me back to a notebook and pen. With limited time at my disposal due to the current overly-busy lifestyle, I set myself a target of 300 words per day: a modest total to be sure, but one I hadn't achieved for the entirety of this year. Four days later, I've managed it every day, am working on two new stories, and feel like I'm achieving something at last.
Maybe, just maybe, after a few false dawns so far this year, I might be able to get this career back on track. Let's see, shall we? I'll drop a weekly tally in to track my progress, and y'all have permission to razz me if I don't keep up.
Clarion South 2007 applications are now open.
You have no excuse. Get them in. I'll be there, tutoring in the 2nd week, and you'll also suffer at the hands of Rob Hood, Simon Brown, Gardner Dozois, Kelly Link, and Janeen Webb. How can you not want to do this?
One of the goddamn best people I've ever met, a man of whom I cannot speak highly enough, one of the best pals I've made in writing: Robert Hoge has an LJ. Flist him.
KISSY KISSY, MY FROG
We had ourselves a low-key Valentine's Day this year: we've bought each other so many things as we moved into the new house that adding something just for Hallmark Day seemed a little, well, over the top. I mean, when your wife can walk through the door and give you a hard-cover graphic biography of Jimi Hendrix drawn by Bill Sienkiewicz and 2 Hendrix CDs for no other reason than she knows you'll love them, why do you need to have the greeting card industry set aside a day for you?
So we just took the phone off the hook; moved the TV and DVD player into the bedroom and threw Love Actually at it; uncorked the wine; made up a plate of cheeses, dried fruits, and grapes; and simply relaxed into each other's company for the night.
It was bloody wonderful.
MEANWHILE, IN THE CELLAR....
So Gary Megson has resigned as manager of Nottingham Forest.
About fucking time.
I know you have a need to know:
We're down to the bathrooms, ladies and gents. The tilers were supposed to be here in the last couple of days to do their thing, but will soon arrive on Monday after my "Where the fuck were you?" phone call. Once they've done, the electrician will arrive to move the power points four inches up the wall so we can fit the new vanities in. Which will be duly fitted, followed by taps, soap holders, towel rails, the showers, the new toilet for the ensuite, and me, having my first non-hand-held-shower-head shower for three weeks, sighing with something approaching ecstacy as the water cascades down my back (don't think visually).
Everything else is cosmetic: we have a miniskip full of dead plant life, and at least another one to go. The compost bin has been installed into a corner of the garden and is busily, uh, sitting there doing the composting thing. Boxes are being opened, emptied, and folded. We've discovered a new Mecca-- Bunnings has been replaced in my affections by Howard's Storage World, (I kid thee not), where today I picked up a bike rack so we can stop using the entire patio as a bike repository. Yesterday it was an eight-drawer movable table for Lyn's painting supplies. I loves it. It is my precious. And slowly, out of the debris of broken boxes and dust, a home is emerging.
Housewarming invitations are beginning to be discussed :)
AND JUST BECAUSE I BLOODY WELL CAN
A gratuitous Connor shot, because he's so frigging gorgeous.
I can make my Daddy mushy like that
Song of the Moment: San Jacinto Peter Gabriel