The things my friends put up with.: seanan

The things my friends put up with.

The mail at my house tends to arrive in the late afternoon. Once I judged that the mailman would have had sufficient time to navigate the horrifying suburban wasteland in which I live, I opened the door...and stopped.

Even around here, it's not every day that a big blue biohazard bag hits my porch. I'm just saying.

I picked up the bag, checking the tags in the vague hope that it had been mis-delivered to my house, and was actually intended for the mad scientist down the way. Nope; there was my name and address, along with the ominous routing tag for Sweden. Yes, Sweden, land of chocolates and, quite possibly, human organs and anthrax. I mean, why else would it have been secured with two heavy plastic zip-ties?

Lacking anything better to do with the bag, I took it inside, cleared the cutting board, and put it down. Then, after a quick check of my time zone-based options, I called Cat. "I have a big international biohazard shipping bag in my kitchen," I informed her, without preamble.

"What?" She was laughing. This is because humor is the best defense against me sometimes.

"Big international biohazard bag. I need you to call the CDC if I start screaming and drop the phone."

"Um...okay."

It took several minutes with the industrial-grade scissors to work my way into the bag, which kept producing more and more ominous routing stickers as I ripped my way inside. Finally, I ripped away the last layer, and shrieked happily.

Cat did not hang up and call the CDC. All those of you not currently trapped in the blasted quarantine zone that used to be California, you can thank her.

"It's the British edition of Feed!" I told her exultantly.

"Oh, good."

I have the UK copies of Feed! They're so pretty! They're only subtly different from the American edition—redder blood, because presumably the Rising is still fresher in England's memory; the word "bloggers" is actually on the back cover; no number "one" on the spine; a quote from Publishers Weekly on the front—but having them fills me with deep, atavistic satisfaction. This is the first British edition of one of my books. I am PUBLISHED IN THE UNITED KINGDOM, yo. The cast of Doctor Who could wander into a Waterstone's and just pick up one of my books, without worrying about the import sticker. I'm global. And stuff.

This is even better than illegal human organ trafficking. I'm just saying.

jongibbs

May 20 2010, 20:06:23 UTC 7 years ago

New comment

Congratulations :)

seanan_mcguire

May 21 2010, 14:33:23 UTC 7 years ago

So pleased!

deakat

May 20 2010, 22:24:06 UTC 7 years ago

Congratulations!

I have been rationing my Feed-reading to one chapter per day, in efforts to delay the inevitable end of the book. So good! I need to buy ten more copies to give away to my nearest and dearest. When I reach the end of my new-job probation period (in another two weeks), I think that will be one component of my celebration. <3

May 21 2010, 14:33:35 UTC 7 years ago

Works for me.

groblek

May 21 2010, 05:26:59 UTC 7 years ago

That is absolutely wonderful wrapping for the book. I am highly amused. But then, I've got a few boxes in my garage with the biohazard symbol and "Infectious substance affecting humans" printed on them - they're great for moving breakable items you want people to be careful with. :)

May 21 2010, 14:33:46 UTC 7 years ago

Oh, very nice.

lysythe

May 21 2010, 13:14:25 UTC 7 years ago

Hopefully it makes it to Singapore now. British editions tend to sell better here; maybe colonial traces.

May 21 2010, 14:33:56 UTC 7 years ago

I hope so, too!

jacylrin

May 21 2010, 13:47:22 UTC 7 years ago

Cool. I didn't know European biohazard bags were blue. All I know is the bright red/orange US version. At my high school, drinks sold better when the ice was being distributed from a large biohazard garbage bag *chuckle*

(it's a science and technology magnet school, so geekery is expected--plus the biohaz bags are tough enough to hold a lot of ice without splitting, which is why they were chosen to transport ice from a working ice machine to the concessions area, where the ice machine was out of order that day)