"Live by the compliment, die by the criticism." —Monique, Sinfest.

So I am in a really fascinating position right now. Like, really fascinating. See, I have two relatively new books on the shelves, one as myself, one under the pen name of "Mira Grant." One is urban fantasy, one is a science fiction medical thriller with horror elements. Both of them are in their primary visibility windows, those periods of time where the majority of books will get the majority of their reviews. Book reviews will continue to come in probably forever—even out of print books get the occasional newly-written review, as they're discovered by new readers, and that's awesome—but otherwise, it's a literal application of the old "penny in the pot" fable. (Short form: If a couple puts a penny in a pot for every time they make love during their first year together, and takes a penny out of the pot for every time they make love after the first year, they'll never run out of pennies. No, I'm not saying this really happens, so please don't tell me how many pennies you've spent.)

Because most of your reviews come in during the first few months of release, it makes sense that the majority of your "extreme" reviews would come in during this window. By "extreme" reviews, I mean...

"This book causes spontaneous orgasm and cures cancer and did my laundry and bought me flowers!"

...and...

"This book kills puppies and causes pandemic flu and its publication means that the terrorists have already won!"

It's fun! It's insane! It's like a roller coaster inside your head, one that goes from "dude, I'm awesome" to "dude, I should be recycled into Soylent Green to protect the English language from my foul attacks" like sixteen times a day. And you can't get off the ride, because the ride operator is a total jerk and refuses to release the brakes. And maybe you shouldn't have eaten all that cotton candy before you started. And maybe this amusement park sucks.

Finding balance between the peaks and valleys of the coaster is really hard. I have to watch the curve, and throw away the things that go too far in either direction. I'm pretty sure my books neither cure cancer nor kill puppies. Crying myself to sleep because someone says I caused the death of the dinosaurs with my prose isn't going to do anybody any good, and neither is declaring myself to be a golden god of love. But wow, can it be difficult to hold on to a sense of perspective when it seems like I'm being hit from every possible side, all at the same time.

Live by the compliment, die by the criticism.

Stay sane by the Diet Dr Pepper.

Look! I was the Big Idea on John Scalzi's blog! I'm pretty delighted. Also, his introduction is awesome:

"Oh Noes! It’s the Zombie Apocalypse™! It’s the end of the world! Yes, yes, Mira Grant said, zombies, end of the world, blah blah blah. Been there. Done that. Got the bloody t-shirt. But what comes after the end of the world, when the world actually is still there? One answer: Feed, which takes a couple decades beyond the zombie apocalypse to a world which has, in its way, adjusted to the undead. And Grant (the pen name for current Campbell Award nominee Seanan McGuire) does a pretty good job with it, according to a starred review in Publishers Weekly: 'Shunning misogynistic horror tropes in favor of genuine drama and pure creepiness, McGuire has crafted a masterpiece of suspense with engaging, appealing characters.' Well, then."

Thank you, Mr. Scalzi.

Also in Feed-related news, Indigo has posted her review, and says "I have read everything Seanan has published to date. And while I like and enjoy the October Daye series quite well, my feeling is that Newsflesh: Feed is the beginning of something truly phenomenal." Glee! (She also put up a TV Tropes page for the book. Now that's love. Be careful; there are spoilers.)

ash_of_roses has posted a review of Feed, and says "This is the kind of book you fall in love with. You fall fast enough you don't realize what's even happening until it's much too late. You fall so fast and so hard that you almost forget what the book has promised you it is going to be. When those promises come true you want it to be a betrayal, but it isn't. This book doesn't lie about what it is; from the blood-smeared front cover to the very last page, this book never pretends to be gentle, or kind, or have a happy ending This book does not lie, and it does not apologize—nor should it."

That may be one of the nicest things anybody's ever said about my work. Again, cross-stitch, on my wall, oh, yes.

In case you missed it, check out this utterly bad-ass website that Orbit put together to promote the book, complete with more bells and whistles than a Chuck E. Cheese. Also check out the awesome new wallpaper they've posted (and remember, there's more awesome wallpaper at MiraGrant.com).

That's all for right now. Whee!