July 18th, 2011
For me, every book has a theme song, one that doesn't always have anything to do with the actual book. It's just the piece of music that gets stuck in my head whenever I start thinking about it. And for One Salt Sea, the song is "Ten Years," by Talis Kimberley.
Here's how it was, after he left me,
Queen of this island, and mother of his child.
I knew the risks—war's always chancy—
Still, I was happy to wait, for a while...
In fifty days—less, if historical stocking oopsies bear out one more time—you'll be able to walk into your local bookstore and pick up a copy of One Salt Sea, the fifth of the October Daye adventures. In fifty days, you'll be able to find out what happens next. In fifty days, you're done waiting, for at least a little while.
I admit it: I'm terrified. Late Eclipses was incredibly well-received, and that makes the stakes even higher for book five. What's more, One Salt Sea is the book that, for a very long time, I couldn't write, because I was so sure that the series would never find a home that I ran out of steam about a quarter of the way into book five, over and over and over again. In a way, I never did write that particular book. The one you'll be able to buy is very different, even though the skeleton is the same. The Brightest Fell, my original book five, may never see the light of day...or if it does, it will show up as something new and strange. And that's okay.
Fifty days. I can barely believe it. We've come so far, so fast, and it's all so strange.
Thank you for coming with me.
Because ten years is a very long time
When there's no guarantee he'll come home,
And the war was so far away,
And I was still Queen...Queen, and alone...
(All lyrics quoted today are by Talis Kimberley, who is awesome.)
(All twitchiness is mine.)
Here's how it was, after he left me,
Queen of this island, and mother of his child.
I knew the risks—war's always chancy—
Still, I was happy to wait, for a while...
In fifty days—less, if historical stocking oopsies bear out one more time—you'll be able to walk into your local bookstore and pick up a copy of One Salt Sea, the fifth of the October Daye adventures. In fifty days, you'll be able to find out what happens next. In fifty days, you're done waiting, for at least a little while.
I admit it: I'm terrified. Late Eclipses was incredibly well-received, and that makes the stakes even higher for book five. What's more, One Salt Sea is the book that, for a very long time, I couldn't write, because I was so sure that the series would never find a home that I ran out of steam about a quarter of the way into book five, over and over and over again. In a way, I never did write that particular book. The one you'll be able to buy is very different, even though the skeleton is the same. The Brightest Fell, my original book five, may never see the light of day...or if it does, it will show up as something new and strange. And that's okay.
Fifty days. I can barely believe it. We've come so far, so fast, and it's all so strange.
Thank you for coming with me.
Because ten years is a very long time
When there's no guarantee he'll come home,
And the war was so far away,
And I was still Queen...Queen, and alone...
(All lyrics quoted today are by Talis Kimberley, who is awesome.)
(All twitchiness is mine.)
- Current Mood:
stressed - Current Music:Talis Kimberley, "Ten Years."
I'm tired.
I don't mean "Seanan needs a nap." I mean "crying at the slightest provocation, reciting primes to keep myself motivated to finish taking a shower, ready to curl up in a ball and die." So please. I am begging you here. I mean literally, I'm begging. Please...
...don't email me and then get angry when you don't get an instantaneous reply.
...don't ask why you can't have the next book NOW RIGHT NOW. I mean, unless your goal is seeing me cry. In that case, knock yourself out.
...don't tell me I'm neglecting my friends/social life/sanity when I don't come to your party. You know what? I know I'm neglecting those things. You know what else? I don't have a choice right now. I'm sorry. I wish I did. But I don't.
I am out of go. My candle is burning at both ends, and starting to melt in the middle. So handle me gently, do not prod me with sticks, and do not tell me I need to "take time for me." If the time existed, I would take it. It doesn't exist for me to take.
I'm tired.
In the interests of not turning a PSA into another source of stress, I will not be answering comments on this entry. Thank you for understanding.
I don't mean "Seanan needs a nap." I mean "crying at the slightest provocation, reciting primes to keep myself motivated to finish taking a shower, ready to curl up in a ball and die." So please. I am begging you here. I mean literally, I'm begging. Please...
...don't email me and then get angry when you don't get an instantaneous reply.
...don't ask why you can't have the next book NOW RIGHT NOW. I mean, unless your goal is seeing me cry. In that case, knock yourself out.
...don't tell me I'm neglecting my friends/social life/sanity when I don't come to your party. You know what? I know I'm neglecting those things. You know what else? I don't have a choice right now. I'm sorry. I wish I did. But I don't.
I am out of go. My candle is burning at both ends, and starting to melt in the middle. So handle me gently, do not prod me with sticks, and do not tell me I need to "take time for me." If the time existed, I would take it. It doesn't exist for me to take.
I'm tired.
In the interests of not turning a PSA into another source of stress, I will not be answering comments on this entry. Thank you for understanding.
- Current Mood:
recumbent - Current Music:Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz...