A letter to the Great Pumpkin.: seanan

Dear Great Pumpkin;

It has been some time since I last wrote to you, but you have never been far from my thoughts. I just thought you might like me to do my own planting for a change. Since our last correspondence, I have not started any political movements or debunked any major scientific theories for my own amusement. I have loved my friends and looked upon my enemies with tolerant disdain, as opposed to reaching for the machete. I have shared my cookies. I have not brought about the end of all mankind, nor lured the unwary into the cornfield. I have continued to make all my deadlines, even the ones I most wanted to avoid. I have not talked about parasites at the dinner table. Much. So obviously, I have been quite well-behaved, especially considering my nature.

Today, Great Pumpkin, I am asking for the following gifts:

* A smooth and successful release for Deadline, with books shipping when they're meant to ship, stores putting them out when they're supposed to put them out, and reviews that are accurate, insightful, and capable of steering people who will enjoy my book to read it, while warning those who will not enjoy my book gently away. Please, Great Pumpkin, show mercy on your loving Pumpkin Princess of the West, and let it all be wonderful. I'm not asking you to make it easy, Great Pumpkin, but I'm asking you to make it good.

* Please let me finish the current draft of Blackout on time and without anything exploding when it's not supposed to, drawing this trilogy to a satisfying conclusion. I've never finished a series before, Great Pumpkin, and I admit, I'm nervous. I want to do this world, and these characters, justice; I want to make the people who've been with me since Feed was a crazy idea called Newsflesh proud. I know it can be done, and that I have the skills necessary for the task. All I ask is that you help me do it.

* And when that is done, o Prince of Patches, I ask that you help me to find my way back into the depths of Ashes of Honor without that changing-genres stumble; let Toby and her world open their arms and welcome me home, that I might transcribe the story that is already making my fingertips ache. There is so much that I want to do in this book, and only so many pages for me to do it in. Please help me find my way, and help me tell this story. It needs telling.

* I thank you once again for my cats, Great Pumpkin, who are everything I could ever ask for in feline companions. Alice is huge, puffy, and utterly without dignity. Lilly is sleek, smug, and satisfied with herself. Thomas is playful, expanding rapidly, and too smart for his own good. I have never been happier with the cats who share my life than I am with this trio, who delight me in all ways. Please, Great Pumpkin, keep them healthy, keep them happy, and keep them exactly as they are.

* I haven't said anything up to now about what I really want this year, Great Pumpkin, but...you know I've been nominated for the Hugo Award for Best Novel. You know, because you know everything. You know that if I win, I'll be given a rocket ship in Reno, with my Amy and my Vixy in attendance. Neither of them could be there in Australia, and it would mean the world to all of us if they could be there to see this happen. Please shine your holy candle upon the Hugo, Great Pumpkin, and, if you see fit, I will thank you in any speeches I have to give (you know I'm good for it, I did it last time).

I remain your faithful Halloween girl,
Seanan.

PS: While you're at it, can you please turn your graces on Harvest? I sort of really want to tell this story. It centers on Halloween, you're going to love it.

slothman

April 26 2011, 17:57:46 UTC 6 years ago

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Congratulations on the Hugo nomination! And on refraining from discussing parasites at the dinner table;

obsessivewoman has been trying to train me out of that kind of thing for many years. (Apparently I’m not even supposed to talk about such topics even if someone else brings them up. I thought it would be rude not to keep up the conversation...)

My vet informs me that brushing kitty teeth every night has paid off in the cats’ continued good health; they’re 11 years old and still going strong. Cleo and Yeti grumble a bit about having their teeth attacked with a bristle-covered rubber thimble, but then they sit there licking their chops and apparently thinking “mmm... poultry flavor toothpaste...”

Keeping the kitty tubes in the same drawer with the human toothpaste can lead to near-mishaps when sleepy. Closest I ever got was having the Petromalt ready to squirt onto my toothbrush when my brain woke up enough to note “hey, that’s the wrong color...”

seanan_mcguire

April 27 2011, 00:30:24 UTC 6 years ago

I should probably brush everyone's teeth. But those teeth are so very, very sharp...

April 27 2011, 00:42:04 UTC 6 years ago

I get more complaints over brushing. Yeti loves to play in the puddles in the bathtub after I shower, and he sits in them and makes his britches felt up...

alicetheowl

April 27 2011, 00:45:57 UTC 6 years ago

My housemate has a history of literally throwing up if the dinner conversation is too gross. Her mother was a pediatric nurse, and my housemate was regularly regaled with all the horrible things that happen to the human body as it incubates another human, and all the things that can go wrong with that process. That rapidly came to an end the first time she demonstrated her disgust all over the tablecloth.

So she gets veto power in dinner conversations. Mostly, I'm respectful. Sometimes, I forget.

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A letter to the Great Pumpkin.

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