1. It's Saturday! Which means no day job for me, and twice the word count! DON'T LOOK AT ME LIKE THAT. I got up at 8AM (for me, that's sleeping in), watched Criminal Minds while I ate breakfast, wrote and edited for a few hours, watched Criminal Minds while I ate lunch, took a shower, did 5 Things A Room, and now I'm getting ready to head for Borderlands. By arriving several hours before the event, I'll have time to, you guessed it, work.

2. "5 Things A Room" is where I go through the four rooms that contain the majority of my stuff and de-clutter five things, by either putting them away, throwing them away, or shifting them to another room. (Sometimes shifted things can't be put away immediately, due to other things being in the way. This is the issue with having a very, very cluttered house.)

3. Mom and I will be packing the next huge wave of shirts to mail tomorrow; the goal is to get them all packaged for mailing. Before you get too excited: our most recent pack wave revealed that there was at least one size/color/style combination which I didn't receive when I was supposed to, and was unaware was missing. The shirt shop is printing them now, but it means that not all shirts will be mailing, and that I may still be missing some combination I haven't tripped over yet. I'll keep you posted.

4. Remember that "six Velveteen stories in 2011" thing that I promised, and then had people tell me I couldn't do? Well, five of the six are now finished, and the last one will be in the bag before New Year's. So yes, I can so do six crazy superhero romps in a year. They just didn't balance out the way I thought they would.

5. If you're planning to go Black Friday shopping, can you drop me a line and let me know? I'm not going to be shopping that day, but there are supposed to be some new Monster High dolls releasing for the holiday, and I'd really appreciate if you could look for them for me.

6. Zombies are love.

7. There's a lot of shifting and shaking going on at Marvel Comics. The fabulous X-23 has been canceled, which just plain breaks my heart, and I'm not sure what I think of some of the narrative choices being made. I'll stick it out—I'm me—but I'm a little sad all the same.

8. Wilde Imagination is supposed to be announcing a new resin Evangeline Ghastly at IDEX in January. I know, this is relevant to like, three of you, but it's relevant to me. I really want a resin Evangeline, and the last several have been totally unappealing to me. Here's hoping the new one will be as awesome as Cemetery Wedding, which I have thus far been unable to obtain.

9. I'm getting ready to head into the city for the Narbonic Perfect Collection launch party. If you're local, I really do hope to see you there, and if you're not, remember, the bookstore ships.

10. The cats are possessed by demons today, and are following me through the house trilling and fluffing their tails (except for Lilly, who just squawks like she has a duck stuck in her throat). So if I'm never heard from again, it's because they ate me.

Saturday night is MAD SCIENCE LADIES NIGHT at Borderlands Books, where that lovely and talented lady of mad science and shadow government, Shaenon Garrity herself, will be hosting the launch party for her brand new Narbonic Perfect Collection.

For those of you unfamiliar with Narbonic, it's a mad science/romance/gonzo journalism/geek culture/time travel comic that ran for six years before coming to an earth-shattering conclusion. All six years are now collected in a single glorious locale, with two mind-blowing volumes available for your perusal. The books are $30 for the set of two, or $17 individually; they'll be available for sale on Saturday.

(And yes, as always, you can contact the store to order your very own signed and personalized volumes, if you can't be there yourself.)

Shaenon will also have volumes one and two of Skin Horse, one of my favorite currently ongoing webcomics; these are $14 each, and so worth it.

The party will be from five to seven PM on Saturday, November 19th. There will be cupcakes and wine (boxed and bottled), and original art available for purchase at the low, low price of $30 a strip. If you've been to my house, you've seen several of these strips framed and hanging in my front bathroom. Fine art for everyone!

We hope to see you there! It's going to be a real good time.

Ladies and gentlemen, I give you tomorrow's...

PARTY SCHEDULE!

4:00 PM: Setup, sound check, and final details. You can show up, but we may ignore you if you do. Sorry about that.
5:00 PM: Welcome to our party. We're done ignoring you now.
5:15 PM: Would you like some music?
5:55 PM: Perhaps you would like to win things.
6:00 PM: Now there will be cupcakes and autographing.
6:30 PM: More music?
7:10 PM: More prizes?
7:15 PM: Toby Daye Q&A and book discussion.
7:45 PM: Last music of the night.
8:25 PM: Let's raffle some more stuff off.
8:30 PM: Assuming people are not too busy buying books and eating cupcakes, I will read something. No, really.
9:00 PM: Last raffle drawing of the night and we close the evening.

This iteration of the Traveling Circus and Snake-Handling Show will be in the bookstore proper; the cafe will be open throughout the evening, and they've promised to have plenty of bread and delicious pastry this time. Raffle tickets will be available through the two standard methods: show up, or buy something from the bookstore.

All performing musicians will have CDs for sale, because we're predictable like that. Mia will be there with pendants for sale, and they are gorgeous. There will be cupcakes and candy provided as part of the party, and a whole cafe full of delicious things to purchase and enjoy.

It's gonna be a good night. Hope to see you there.

Hey, gang, this is your friendly reminder that the fifth iteration of the Traveling Circus and Snake-Handling Show will be appearing this Saturday, October 1st, at San Francisco's own Borderlands Books. Festivities will commence at five, and will include delicious baked goods, live music, our inevitable raffle, and a Toby Daye Q&A.

This iteration of the Traveling Circus and Snake-Handling Show includes, in alphabetical order, Jeff "Heavy Metal Squid" Bohnhoff, on guitar and sound; Maya "Sonic Boom" Bohnhoff, on guitar and vocals; Michelle "Ceiling Cookies" Dockrey, on vocals; Tony "Code Monkey Likes You" Fabris, on guitar and vocals; Beckett "Don't Lick That" Gladney, on harmonica; Paul "The Cute One" Kwinn, on guitar and vocals; Betsy "Living Improbability" Tinney, on cello and vocals; and me, doing my usual mix of vocals and random stage patter.

Kate and Ryan will be running support, because they are awesome, and my mother will be running around like a chicken with her head cut off. Jude and Naamen will be keeping the bookstore from burning down (respect the bookstore). Mia will be on hand for pendant sales, and Victor and Lara will be on hand for AWESOME (and inevitably getting drafted).

It's going to be an awesome time, with signings and questions and cupcakes, and you should come. If you can't attend, remember that you can contact the bookstore to place orders for delivery, and get your books signed by attending our Circus in your heart.

See you Saturday!

...into a fog where no one notices the contrast of white on white.

According to my iPod, I currently have three hundred and eighty-four Counting Crows songs in my pocket. About eighty of these are different versions of the song "Rain King," mixed and mashed and mingled with a dozen other songs, recorded in an unknown number of cities. I have the coveted live concert with the Disney orchestra backing them up, and several different versions of the song "August and Everything After," which has never been officially recorded. In short, I am a nut.

The first time I saw the Counting Crows live, I was in high school, and they were still playing the UC Berkeley campus club on a regular basis. I was smuggled into the bar by a friend. It was love at first sight. Unlike many young loves, this one has never wavered, never faltered, never faded. They are my favorite band. They have been my favorite band since I was fourteen.

Tonight, I am flying to Seattle. Tomorrow, Ryan and I are driving four hours to a winery in the middle of Washington state. And I am going to see the Counting Crows live for the first time in more than two years.

I am excited, I am exhausted, and I am relieved. Seeing the Counting Crows perform is restorative for me, the way that rereading IT or watching Slither is restorative. Only moreso, because I can't control when a concert happens the way I can control putting on a DVD or opening a book.

I will not get any work done tomorrow. Normally, that would stress me out and worry me, but not this time, because I'm getting something a lot more valuable.

I'm getting peace.

I hope you'll have a wonderful weekend, wherever you are and whatever you choose to be doing. I'm going to be on my own private archipelago, and there's nowhere else I'd rather be. Nowhere else in the world.

I am slammed, and so you're getting one of those dense little fudge-like blog posts where everything fits easily in your mouth and also, you probably don't want to eat the whole box. You're welcome. And so...

The Return of the Traveling Circus and Snake-Handling Show.

The Traveling Circus and Snake-Handling Show will be coming together again on October 1st, to blow the roof right off of Borderlands Books! It's going to be a party. This time, the lineup includes Vixy and Tony, Betsy Tinney, Katie Tinney, Jeff and Maya Bohnhoff, Paul Kwinn, and the always-awesome Beckett Gladney. Mia Nutick will be on hand, with pendants. Kate Secor will be on hand, with sticks. Come for the music, cupcakes, readings, raffles, and fun; stay to buy books and make the bookstore like me. Hooray, Circus!

Ashes of Honor.

The sixth Toby book is trekking right along, and is currently on-schedule to have a finished first draft by October 26th. I even have a progressive daily word count goal sheet to prove it. Once the book is done, it goes off to the Machete Squad and The Agent for review and severe physical harm, and I can really buckle down on Midnight Blue-Light Special, a few YA projects, and the next Mira Grant book. This is what we call "Seanan rewards herself for working by creating more work." This is also what we call "Seanan has no social life."

Social life.

Except that I do have a social life, honest! I'm flying to Seattle this weekend for a Counting Crows concert (yes I am flying to another state just for a concert DON'T JUDGE ME I LOVE THEM). The Pirates of Emerson are getting ready to re-open their annual haunted house park, and I'm very excited about that. And I'm already making sure to plan dinners and lunches with the friends I'm going to see during...

My fall convention schedule.

The first full weekend of October (7th-9th), I will be the Literary Guest of Honor at Conclave, in Romulus, Michigan. The weekend after, I will be appearing at the LitCrawl!, this time in the Borderlands Cafe. The weekend after that, I will be flying to Ohio for OVFF, where I will sing in the Pegasus Concert, share a room with Brooke, hug Vixy a lot, and wear a pretty dress.

And after that, I nap.

Too much TV.

All my fall shows are coming back on the air. Right now, as of this week, I'm watching Eureka, Warehouse 13, Alphas, Castle, NCIS, Glee, The New Girl, America's Next Top Model, Fringe, Haven, and Doctor Who. Some of these shows are ending for the season very soon. Others are just getting started. Still others have not yet made an appearance on the schedule. Thank the Great Pumpkin for Tivo.

Toys!

The spring line of Monster High dolls has just been announced. I have acquired the Modern Doll Collector's Convention Evangeline ("Soul Sweeping"), but not the centerpiece doll (which I want very much). I have arranged a proxy for the Halloween convention. I am, in short, insane. But wow, do I have lots of toys staring at you while you try to sleep.

Cats.

Insane.

"Wicked Girls" T-shirts.

At the printer now! Soon, I shall have them, and soon, we shall begin sorting out the shipping process. Since some of you did order them as gifts for the holiday season, I may try doing a "priority boarding" post, where I say "let us know if you need yours soon for any reason," and bump those people to the front of the queue. If I do this, however, I need to trust that only people with real need will ask; more than fifty such requests, and we won't be able to handle them, so no one will get out-of-order shipping. And the spreadsheet is really random, the order in which your request was placed has nothing to do with it.

...and that is all, for right now. More to come later.

I need a nap.

Having just returned home from Reno, Land of Cigarette Smoke and Strobe Lighting, I am now preparing to board a big metal skybird and soar away on wings of science to scenic Columbus, Ohio, where I will be appearing at Context as their Horror Guest of Honor. Well. Mira will, anyway, and since she doesn't have a legal photo ID, she has to let me come. Ha ha, evil twin. Ha ha.

I am, perhaps, a little less excited about the idea of taking another road trip than I could be; last night, my dreams centered almost entirely on my having forgotten to buy a plane ticket to England, and being forced to run hither and yon in an attempt to make it to the airport before I missed my flight. Parts of the dream actually took place in England, with a strong undercurrent of "if you miss your flight, you won't have been here, and the ensuing paradox will destroy the world." Because I'm not overly inclined to take responsibility for things or anything...

The cats are not entirely happy about seeing the suitcases come out again. And by "not entirely happy," I mean "they have transformed into an unstoppable feline murder squad." If I stop posting and no one knows what happened to me, the cats will have removed all the bits I use to do things other than catering to cats. I will probably deserve it. I will, after all, have left them again. (Thankfully, after this, I have no more long trips away from home until December. A few weekends, but nothing longer than that. This may be what saves my life.)

If you're in the Ohio area, Context is going to be amazing and fun, and I would really love to see you there. I fully intend to be so amped-up on sugar that I can't see my toes for at least twenty-four hours, which is always a good time, for everyone involved. And I can sleep on the plane. Which is a wonderful thing, to be sure.

Here I come, Ohio. And I am demanding frozen treats.

What will I be doing at WorldCon in Reno? Apart from hyperventilating? Well...

Thursday, 11:00-12:00. Music for Creative People.
"What music inspires you? What gets your creative juices flowing? Do artists listen to different types of music than writers do?" Join me, the ever lovely Maya Bohnhoff, and two awesome people I don't know as we talk about listening to music. Points if you can accurately guess the number of times I'm going to bring up the Counting Crows!

Thursday, 3:00-4:00. What's Up with Zombies?
"Why are zombies so popular anyway and what is it about all these mash-ups? Is this the future of the field?" Since I don't do mash-ups, cheese and crackers, I sure hope not! But we get to talk about dead stuff, and that always makes me happy.

Thursday, 5:00-6:00. Literary Beer.
Me. Paul Cornell. Alcohol. The opportunity to hang out with me, or Paul Cornell, and alcohol. Or no alcohol, and then you can laugh at the people who declared themselves pro-alcohol. It's up to you!

Friday, 12:00-1:00. Concert.
Am I doing a concert? Yes I am. Will it feature some of my very favorite people, like Vixy and Amy and Mary and Betsy and Tony, oh, my? Yes it will. Will it be awesome? I surely do hope so.

Friday, 1:00-2:00. Tricky Pixie Interview.
I get to sit down with the members of Tricky Pixie and grill them at glorious length about their habits, hopes, dreams, and where they were on the evening of August 16th. Come and watch the glorious chaos!

Friday, 11:00-1:00. Whose Line is it Anyway?
Since I tend to be an early riser, I feel the need to make it clear that this game show begins at eleven o'clock at night, ending at one o'clock in the morning. And this is why I'm sleeping in on Saturday. But it's worth it for a night of glorious improv with some wonderful madmen (and madwomen). Definitely not to be missed.

Saturday, 11:00-12:00. The Role of the Companion: The Impact of the Companions on the Doctor.
This panel starts at a more Seanan-friendly eleven o'clock in the morning, praise be to the Great Pumpkin, and is going to involve me, Tara, and a lot of other lovely people talking about Doctor Who for the better part of an hour. My life, so hard.

Saturday, 12:00-1:00. Meet the Campbell Award Nominees.
Alas, one can only keep the tiara for a year, and one of these lovely souls will be inheriting it at Saturday night's Hugo ceremony. Watch me moderate Saladin Ahmed, Dan Wells, Larry Correia, Lev Grossman, and Lauren Beukes in a low-stakes battle of wits. We'll all be too strung-out worrying about the awards to be more than moderately dangerous.

Saturday, 3:00-4:00. Bill Willingham Guest Dialog.
Who gets to grill Bill Willingham about fairy tales, folklore, and what he had for breakfast? Is it me? Yes. Yes, I do believe it is. Come see the carnage!

...after this, my Saturday dissolves in a haze of getting ready for the Hugos, attending the pre-Hugo reception, flailing a great deal, attending the Hugos, and then crying, either with relief or because I haven't slept in four days. Roll on Sunday, shall we?

Sunday, 12:00-12:30. Reading.
Imma read things. Things that take roughly twenty minutes to read. It'll be fun. Promise.

Sunday, 1:00-2:00. Autographing.
I am in the same autographing session as George R.R. Martin. Please show up, or I'll spend the whole hour inking, and feel vaguely vexed.

And that's my WorldCon! Hope to see you there. Reno's no Australia, but I bet I can rustle up a venomous buddy...or two...

Ah, July. When a fan girl's thoughts turn to sweet San Diego, city of a thousand delights, fairy tale wonderland of geeky goodness...at least for a week. We roll into town like the biggest circus ever, make a huge mess, drink all the rum in the county, and then disappear, leaving city coffers fuller and city children more confused. It's a good life. And now, now...now I tell you where to find me.

No Damsels in Distress Here. Thursday, 4-5 PM.
Chicks kick ass! According to the panel description, "danger just might be these girls' middle name." (Toby's middle name is actually "Christine.") Come see me trade barbs and witty banter with Marie Lu, Kathy Reichs, Chloe Neill, Jeanne Stein, Merrie deStefano, Carrie Vaughn, and Sherrilyn Kenyon. Moderated by Maryelizabeth Hart of Mysterious Galaxy. Room 25ABC.

Note: The panel will be immediately followed by an autographing session in the autograph area.

Orbit booth signing. Friday, 11-12PM.
Hey, look, it's Mira Grant! I'll be at the Orbit booth on Friday morning, eleven to noon, signing books. Perhaps your books. Perhaps someone else's books. Don't you want to find out?

Writing the Apocalypse. Friday, 4-5 PM.
It's the end of the world as we know it, and I feel fine, yo. Also, my name is listed first on this panel description, which is a San Diego first for me. Yay! Come see me argue the end times with Thomas Mullen, Anna North, Walter Greatshell, Richard Kadrey, Daniel Wilson, Isaac Marion, and Steven Schlozman. Maryelizabeth Hart is moderating. Fear for her soul. Room 7AB.

Note: The panel will be immediately followed by an autographing session in the autograph area.

Penguin booth signing. Saturday, 12-1PM.
How many things can I sign in a weekend? I'll be at the Penguin booth Saturday from noon to one, signing things as my actual self. You should totally show.

SFX booth signing. Sunday, 11-12PM.
SFX Magazine makes me happy, so I'm going to make them happy by being their trained booth monkey for an hour. I will sign things! I will smile! Maybe I will sign your things! This is your last chance to catch me in an official capacity this year, so you should take it. I'm just saying.

And that's San Diego! Hope to see you there.

Hey! It's time once more for Science Fiction in San Francisco, the game where the rules are made up and the points don't matter! This Saturday, July 9th, at the Variety Preview Room Theatre in San Francisco, California. Doors open at 6:00PM, readings begin at 7:00PM. Who's going to be there? John "I am so damn cool, I wrote songs for Blue Oyster Cult" Shirley, and Mira "Who wants to find out what's lurking in the haunted cornfield?" Grant. To quote the Mira bio from the website:

"Mira Grant may or may not have attended SF in SF before. She is the evil twin of local urban fantasy writer, Seanan McGuire, who shot to fame last year by winning the John W. Campbell Award for Best New Writer at the WorldCon in Australia. More recently Mira's personality has crept to the fore. Her debut science fictional zombie tale, Feed, has received nominations for Best Novel in the Shirley Jackson and Hugo awards. Rumors that Mira has kidnapped Seanan and plans to torture her to death in various slow and painful ways are hotly denied by her publicist (but then he's a demon and does everything hotly). Mira's new novel, Deadline, a sequel to Feed, is currently available in bookstores and summoning circles for appropriate payment."

See how awesome this event is? I get a DEMON PUBLICIST. I'm sure he'll be thrilled to find out that he's been outed to the world by a local literary event. Hopefully "thrilled" won't involve cleansing us with fire.

Readings will be followed by a Q&A moderated by Terry Bisson. Admission is free, but there will be a cash bar, with all proceeds benefiting Variety. There will also be book sales courtesy of the ever-awesome Borderlands Books. Support a good cause and a local bookstore and see me read live! Fun for everybody!

Hope to see you there!

In case you missed the memo, I'm one of the Guests of Honor at Convergence 2011 in scenic Bloomington, Minnesota. How soon is this? Well, my plane leaves tonight at six, so...

I'm super-excited about this convention, where I get to room with one of my favorite people (Tara, my web graphic designer), hug Cat Valente a whole lot (Thomas still wants to know why I let her leave), and generally enjoy the hell out of one of my favorite states. Also, Soundingsea (the lady I named Buffy's blog after) is taking me to Izzy's for ice cream. Om nom nom. Best convention ever! And here, for the curious, is my schedule:

Friday.

Reading, 2:00 PM. What am I reading? I do not know! Suggest something, I'm flexible.

Ask a Writer, 3:30 PM. G'head. Ask me about writing. I dare you.

Signing, 5:00 PM. Specifically, we will be signing Chicks Dig Time Lords and Whedonistas, although let's face it. I'll sign anything you put in front of me that isn't a small child or a legally binding contract.

An Evening With Seanan McGuire and Catherynne Valente, 7:00 PM. Look. We're not kidding when we call this event "An Evening With Kevin Smith, Plus Tits." We are profane. We are bizarre. We will talk about damn near anything that comes into our heads. We are eventually going to become the darlings of the fannish lecture circuit, so you should see us early, while you can still get good seats. Although we'll have to end mostly on time, because...

Whedonistas, 8:30 PM. Ra ra Joss. Ra ra ah-ah-ah, we all got his bad romance, yo.

Saturday.

Happy Writers, Fast Writers, 12:30 PM. Gimme a Diet Dr Pepper and I'm both!

Chicks Dig Live Doctor Who Commentary, 2:00 PM. I did not realize until I was making this list that we're commenting on "The Parting of the Ways." Oh, I am going to need so much boozimohol not to get inappropriate...

Signing, 3:30 PM. Since many of you will doubtless have attended the group signing, this event may be me, my comic book paper, and a lot of inking. And I am okay with that, although I'd love to see you again.

Sunday.

Chicks Dig Comics, 12:30 PM. Yes. Yes, we do.

The SF Squeecast, 3:30 PM. This is going to be our first live recording of our awesome new group podcast, which is getting ready to go live. It will also be the first recording I have done while fully clothed, since again, live. I have now used the word "live" too many times in this panel description.

Closing Ceremonies, 5:00 PM. This is where I get to kill and eat the con.

I hope to see as many of you there as possible, and I plan on having a fantastic time. Hooray for Minnesota!

I am delighted to be returning to my beloved Borderlands Books tomorrow, this time as my urban fantasy-writin', fairy tale-lovin' self, along with the lovely Ben Macallan, who is making his urban fantasy debut. (Ben Macallan is a pseudonym for my darling Chaz Brenchley, who is about as closeted in his pseudonym as I am in mine. It's a wonderful world.)

There will be readings, questions, answers, prizes, and a general good time for everyone. The fun starts at 3:00 PM. This is mostly Ben's party; I'm along to be the plucky comic relief, and the plucky comic relief would really appreciate it if you could show up, since it's no fun being plucky to an empty house. I'll be reading from the new Tybalt novella, "Rat-Catcher," and possibly also from One Salt Sea. And I'll be very glad to see you, as will Ben.

(Also remember that the bookstore takes phone orders, and that I'd be happy to inscribe things for you, as would Ben, if you can't attend.)

I hope to see you there!

1. I am basically over The Death Plague From Hell at this point, but I remain exhausted and behind on damn near everything. I'm catching up as fast as I can, but with 500+ LJ comments and nearly as many emails to go through, I'm having to do a lot more "is this actually urgent?" triage than I like. Please be patient, and don't yell at me if two whole days go by without my getting back to you.

2. While I'm asking for favors...please don't link me to Goodreads or Amazon reviews. I really and truly try to avoid reviews on those sites, because they just make me sad and twitchy. (Yes, there are excellent, erudite, well-composed reviews in both places. But the number of mean or thoughtless reviews is very high, and frankly, I don't have the energy to filter through them looking for the good stuff.)

3. If you missed the Deadline book release, or if Toby is more your cup of tea, remember that I will be back at Borderlands Books this coming Saturday, appearing alongside the fabulous Ben Macallan (aka Chaz Brenchley). He's asked me to join him so he'll have a partner for cards if no one shows up. Let's surprise him by having EVERYONE show up. I'll be reading from my new Tybalt prequel story, and there may be some awesome unexpected giveaways...

4. Everyone on the Wicked Girls shirt spreadsheet should have received their initial emails at this point. If you don't have one, please check your spam filter, as the email from Deborah (coming from a Gmail.com address) is somehow not getting to you. If you think I may have the wrong address for you, please let me know ASAP.

5. My house is an absolute disaster zone, and I'm going to need help cleaning out the closets soon. If you're local, not allergic to cats, and think spending a day going through the things I have shoved into my shelves would be fun, drop me a line. This is less "cleaning" and more "de-cluttering, purging, and organizing," which means it's less physical labor, more Tetris for the live-action set.

...so in short, please be patient, and I will try to deal with all emergencies in the order in which they were received.

Back to New York!

Tuesday morning found me oversleeping, since all that puking the night before had left me totally exhausted. I eventually staggered out of bed and made my way downtown to the convention center where BEA was being held. Luckily, it was in the same convention center as New York Comicon, so I was able to find my way with relative ease, and did not wind up wandering lost through Manhattan for the rest of time. It could happen!

Alex at Orbit had already given me my badge, so I swung by registration to pick up a lanyard (v. important, lanyards) and called The Agent to let her know I was on-site. She promptly swooped in, grabbed me, and whisked me hither and yon to see people that needed seeing—including Toni and Charlaine, which was a wonderful way to begin the convention. Hugging and happiness followed, and then they settled in to do a signing while The Agent and I ran over to the Orbit booth to acquire copies of Deadline for their enjoyment. Happiness is giving early copies of books to your friends.

With the hauling about portion of our program complete, The Agent freed me to wander where I would. So I wandered.

Book Expo America is a lot like New York Comicon, scale-wise, which probably explains why they fit in the same convention center. Only instead of toys, you have books. And instead of media goodies, you have books. And instead of scantily-clad booth babes, you have booth librarians, which is kinda more awesome. And did I mention the books? It's like lit-geek Disneyland, only without the teacup ride.

Which is sort of a pity.

All too soon, I had to leave the convention center and head for DAW. Because I was running late, I cleverly decided to take a taxi. Unfortunately, my streak of "always pick the taxi with the driver you have no languages in common with" continued, and my request for the PATH station resulted in my being dropped at Penn Station. Argh. I found my way to the PATH (only about three blocks away) and hopped on a train, which delivered me promptly and without fuss to the correct locale. Hooray for trains!

Better yet, hooray for DAW, which was exactly as welcoming and familiar and wonderful as I hoped it would be. DAW is one of my favorite places to spend a day, and not just because I can usually cadge someone into taking me to visit the "take" shelves of free books scattered around the building. I love everyone there, and I'm comfortable there, which is rare for someone as twitchy as I am.

I had a nice talk with The Editor, and got my revision notes for Discount Armageddon, which is next on my agenda for working on. Eventually, The Agent showed up, and we all went out for delicious Indian food dinner, where I ate goat and chicken and mushrooms and fish and naan and om nom nom Indian. Seriously, we ate so much Indian food it ached. I wanted to go home and collapse.

...which was naturally the cue for me to be hauled through half a dozen BEA after-hours parties. Good: I saw (and hugged) Cat and John Scalzi, who looked as terrified of the noisy crowds as I did. I also saw (and hugged) Tempest, who had a fan, and looked totally at ease. And I met Scott Westerfeld! Serious awesomeness.

Eventually, The Agent noticed that I was wilting, and I was loaded into a cab with a driver who understood where I wanted to go and took me to the PATH station. I returned to Jersey City, staggered home, and collapsed into bed too tired to die. Which meant, of course, that Wednesday was going to be the big day in town...

Next: Wednesday at BEA, mojitos in my eye, and signing Deadline.

Now that you've had about a week to read and enjoy Deadline (and to jump in over on the spoiler thread, which is rocking and rolling like whoa), it's time for a party! Specifically, it's time for a Borderlands Books party, which are some of the best parties in the world.

Since this is a Mira Grant party, it's going to be somewhat more low-key than a Toby release. We'll have readings, signings, Q&A, and, of course, cupcakes. The festivities will begin at 5:00 PM, and continue until 8:00 PM, with cupcakes served at 6:30, to divide the evening. Which brings me to...

The first Q&A will be held from 6:00-6:30 PM, and it will be a spoiler-free session. I'll repeat that before we start. Some people still haven't read Feed, and I'd like them to have the chance to get in, say hello, grab books, get a cupcake, and run without having the ending of the book spoiled for them.

If you can't make it, remember that the bookstore does take internet and phone orders, and I'd be happy to sign and personalize anything they have on hand. You can find contact details on the bookstore website.

Hope to see you there!

Monday dawned bright and (very, very) early, since DongWon had asked that I be at Orbit at nine a.m. to do some recording. Now, Orbit is located near Grand Central Station, which is very much Properly In Manhattan. I was staying in Jersey City, which is very much not Properly In Manhattan. It is, in fact, in a different state. As a California girl, this causes me a certain amount of existential confusion every time I need to go from one to the other very quickly, since I know, deep down in my soul, that it takes at least eight hours to go from one state to another. Such is the eternal divide between the East and West Coasts.

Since I needed to get to Orbit by nine, I got up at seven. This means that, on some level, I got up at four. There is a reason I occasionally demand love and caffeine from my editors. I am comfortable enough with Manhattan at this point that I was able to get myself to the office with a minimum of trouble (barring a brief "walking the wrong way up 6th Avenue" incident, and really, that could have happened to anyone), which is good, since I was carrying my laptop. Yes, the big orange one. Yes, the one that weighs as much as one of the cats. Why?

Because I was having dinner with The Agent and a few more of her clients that evening, which meant there was no way I was getting back to Jersey City. And if I was going to be at Orbit all day, I was damn well going to get some serious work done.

I beat DongWon to the office by almost twenty minutes, and was detained by security until he arrived. I am never letting him forget this. Never ever ever never. But! He did eventually show up, and we were able to get into the office, finally, where there were greetings and huggings, and presentations of really fancy chocolate (from me to the office, not from the office to me). I had time to inhale one doughnut and drink a bottle of Diet Dr Pepper, and then it was off to the recording studio, where a very nice engineer explained how a recording booth worked. Thanks, nice engineer! Nobody had bothered to tell him that I have three studio albums out. Sorry, nice engineer.

My first task: recording the audio book edition of "Apocalypse Scenario." Super-fun! I managed not to get too into it, but wow was I glad to have done voice work before. It was nice and smooth and lovely. I followed it with two different podcast recordings, all done in the same wee room. Everything was professional and well-orchestrated, and before I knew it, it was all over, and I was being settled at the only open desk in the office.

Cue working. Type type type. Type type type. I was supposed to have lunch with some friends who were also in New York for BEA; when they didn't answer their phones, I had lunch with DongWon and Devi (another Orbit editor) instead. We went to a seafood restaurant, where I ate mussels and potatoes and hot fudge sundae, om nom. DongWon had to run before we finished eating, leaving Davi and I to talk about him behind his back. Ha ha, DongWon. Ha, ha.

Back to the office; more working; more whining at my computer. I actually had to borrow copies of Feed and Deadline to use as reference material, since otherwise, I wouldn't have been able to verify the continuity of what I was writing. This is why it's good to write at your publisher's. They'll always have copies of the books you need on hand.

Eventually, the day ended. Poof. And I, being the sensible girl that I am, loaded up my tote bag with my laptop and all the books I had managed to collect over the course of the day and went hieing off to downtown to meet up with The Agent for dinner. She had directed me to a library, in an alley, in an unfamiliar part of the city. I assume this is because she wants to see whether I will survive being eaten by a Grue. I found the library, and felt very smug about it, right until I went inside, went down to the floor where the YA author event I was meeting her at was being held, and discovered that I had, in fact, descended to a very unpleasant and specialized CIRCLE OF HELL.

Seriously. What seemed like several hundred people (and may have been just fifty, I don't know, it was a CIRCLE OF HELL) were crammed into an itty-bitty space, creating an immense amount of heat and noise. And somewhere in all that chaos was my agent. I sought. I strove. I gave up.

Spotting a woman with a Diet Dr Pepper, I begged to know where it had come from, and damn near wept when informed that she had brought it with her. Then I discovered, much to my surprise, that she was actually a book blogger I know through her reviews. And then she took me to the secret cluster of book bloggers hiding from the heat near the elevators. Yay! Much joy and chatter and hugging followed, lasting until The Agent appeared, her new client Claire in tow, to whisk me away to a less hellish locale.

Did I attack the first gas station we passed like it was the Promised Land, coming away with a sack of Diet Dr Pepper? Yes. Yes, I did.

We had dinner at a lovely place near Waverly Place (still no wizards), where we ate bread and cheese and I had fish and eventually went downstairs and was horribly sick due to a fish bone sticking in my throat. Since I had not retained dinner, The Agent bought me a cupcake. Happy times. Claire was awesome, but I was tired, and BEA was the next morning, so I returned to New Jersey and slept. FOREVER.

Next: BEA and DAW. It's acronym day!

Once again, we rewind to late May, when I was in New York City enjoying friends, humidity, publishers, and pigeons. Or, more specifically, we're rewinding to Sunday the 22nd, when I was scheduled to a) go into Manhattan to have brunch with The Agent, b) meet up with Will, and c) have dinner with several of my friends, including Batya, Alex, and the lovely Priscille. Everybody wins!

Foolishly, I thought that in New York, "brunch" meant, well, "brunch," and so expected to return to Jersey City during the day. Yes, yes, laugh at my pain. Anyway...

I rose, showered, dressed, and made my way to Manhattan, following the now-familiar path to the PATH train. I enjoy riding the PATH. It's easy and predictable and not really like riding the subway at all. Finding The Agent on the other end was easy, and we had a lovely, leisurely brunch at Cafeteria. I had a waffle with berries and cream. She had green eggs and ham (pesto is a magical thing). We split lemon pancakes with more berries and cream for dessert. Yes, I have now blogged what I had for breakfast. You have my permission to weep for mankind.

After brunch came the ceremonial Wandering Around Manhattan, wherein I actually did the traditional tourist thing and went shopping in New York. Sure, it was at Old Navy, where I bought half a dozen more tank tops in a variety of rainbow hues, but that counts, right? The Agent turns out to be hysterically funny in Old Navy, by the way, and even pickier about her tank top fit than I am. All hail compatible crazy.

We finished shopping and settled at the local Red Mango frozen yogurt, where The Agent ate yogurt and I didn't, because ew. Will came and got me, because he is awesome, and we bid The Agent what would be the first of many fond farewells. Will and I walked a great deal. I got an artisan Popsicle! Life is good. I also got to see Will's apartment, which was very clean and grownup, as befits a new law school graduate. Totally awesome.

After frozen treats and apartment visits, we made our way to the bus stop, hence to ride to the kosher Indian restaurant where we would be having dinner. Priscille wound up on the same bus, which was AWESOME, and much laughter and happiness accompanied us all the way to food, where we were met by Jon and Merav, Batya and Alex, a surprise Constance, and an extra bonus Jessica. Constance couldn't stay, but there was hugging, and then the rest of us went in to do some serious eating. I had goat. Who's surprised?

Dinner was followed by ambling aimlessly around the city, stopping by Dylan's Candy Bar, and finally drinking sugary things at Starbucks. Jon and Merav had actually driven into Manhattan, and so I was able to get a ride back to Jersey City, where I tumbled into bed, full of goat, happy, and ready to face the week ahead.

Which is good, because the week ahead was about to KICK MY ASS.

Time for our time-delay travelogue, in which I attempt to prove that I am, in fact, still a real person! Yay! So...

Last Saturday, I flew to New York to begin my whirlwind tour of the East Coast and Midwest, as represented by New York, New Jersey, and Wisconsin. Seriously, even considering this particular set of stops probably qualifies me as slightly out of my tree. Actually doing it? Totally insane.

I began in San Francisco, where my mother and youngest sister drove me to the airport. I dressed for success in business class, wearing a bright green tank top and my Scooby-Doo Halloween pajama pants, with my hair in pigtails. I wish I could say this was me making a statement, but in reality, it's just that I travel so much, and the security theater has become such a circus, that I am no longer willing to deal with uncomfortable clothing on top of everything else that air travel entails.

Virgin America (my preferred airline) has recently moved into SFO's newly reopened Terminal 2. This was my first trip to the new terminal. I was dubious, but after five minutes experiencing Terminal 2's charms, I am here to tell you that I, brothers and sisters, am a true believer in Terminal 2. A full-sized supermarket! A wine bar! A burger joint selling Diet Dr Pepper inside security! And a full-sized bookstore, to boot. I have seen the airport promised land, and it is Terminal 2.

I found copies of Feed and the Toby books in the airport bookstore, and signed them, pigtails and orange Halloween pants and all. I believe I am now marked down as one of the bookstore's more surreal author visits.

Thanks to a combination of good luck, good timing, and flying Main Cabin Select, I managed to be the first one on the plane, and nested myself solidly in my lovely exit-row seat, with velociraptor, laptop, sack of DDP, and lots and lots of work to do. As soon as we were off the ground, I commenced to doing just that, working on Blackout, "Rat-Catcher," "Landslide," and reading a manuscript I've been asked to blurb. The flight was smooth, the middle seat was empty, and it was, all in all, lovely...with one notable exception.

The people behind me (and in the row across from theirs, making six in total) seem to have taken Jersey Shore as an etiquette guide. They talked loudly, even shouting across the plane. They argued with the flight attendants. They listened to some sort of media player, again loudly (I could hear it through my headphones) without using headphones of their own. One of them passed gas several times, causing the rest to laugh uproariously. I didn't recline my seat, since I was working; somehow, this wasn't enough room for the person behind me, who kicked me, a lot. Seriously, what were these people, twelve? No, most twelve-year-olds have better manners. It was a real relief to get off the plane and see them nevermore.

Jon and Merav met me at the airport with Subway and DDP, and whisked me away to scenic Jersey City, New Jersey, one of my many homes away from home, where we watched Doctor Who before stumbling to sleep the sleep of the righteous, the just, and the exhausted.

My New York adventure was underway at last.

Just a handy reminder for those of you who may be present at Book Expo America this week:

I (Mira Grant) will be signing at the Orbit booth from four to five PM today, or until people stop coming up and thrusting things at me to have them signed. Will there be copies of Deadline? Statistically speaking, that seems very likely indeed...

Hope to see you there, if you're in the area at all!

I am preparing for the grand summer road trip. Home to San Francisco; San Francisco to Manhattan; Manhattan to Milwaukee; Milwaukee to La Crosse; La Cross to Madison; Madison to Chicago; and then home again, home again, jiggety jig. I am very ready to be gone. I am absolutely not ready to be gone. Before I see my home and bed and cats again, I will visit both my publishers, attend my first BEA, visit a high school that's very excited to see me, and attend my first Wiscon. I will see and hug and adore my Merav and my Diana and my Cat—so many hugs. I will do great things and struggle to keep up with my word count, and whether I succeed or not, I will need a nap before I'm done.

I'm nervous. I admit that. And this is all part of the deal, this is part of the promise you make at the crossroads when you sell your fantasies for your dreams. This is part of what it takes to have what I have always said I wanted...and I was right, and I am not sorry. But sometimes I get tired, and I want to stay home with my cats and my books and my dolls.

I want to write full time. I want to live in a little house in Seattle full of cat trees and more books and too many toys, and I want to paint the walls orange without worrying about my housemates not wanting to live inside a pumpkin. And wanting these things means packing my bags and hitting the road again, because life feeds art feeds life.

But sometimes I get tired.

I hope I will see you if you're in New York, or Wisconsin, and if not, I hope I will see you some other time, when I come to wherever you are. I'm always glad to see people, and you can smell my dirt-based perfume and get shown pictures of my cats (conveniently stored in my phone). And this will be a wonderful adventure, because they always are.

I can't wait to get started. I can't wait to come home.

I love the crossroads prayer that is my life.

Aigh! How is it already mid-May? How is it already past mid-May? Seriously, this isn't cool, people. But since life marches on, here are some random updates about things you may want to know.

Wicked Girls T-shirts.
The spreadsheet has been finished and handed off to my lovely assistant, aka, "Deborah," who is now using our peachy-keen new merchandise email address to send out the order confirmations. So if you requested a shirt, you're going to hear from Deborah! She'll be asking you to verify that we have the right information, requesting shipping information, and setting up things so you can pay. Please, please, remember that we must receive payment to place this order. That's why the original post said "cash in the cookie jar." If you can't pay for your shirts, we may have to remove you from the spreadsheet, depending on how long it takes for everyone else to pay.

Welcome to Bordertown about to hit shelves.
The new Bordertown anthology is just about out, and it's amazing. Mia (chimera_fancies) will be doing pendant sales of special Bordertown pendants soon, and there are contests and giveaways and blog tours, oh my! It's an incredible book. If you love urban fantasy, you should absolutely buy this book. This is the city whose foundations informed us all, and it's finally opening its doors again.

Oh, right. Also, Deadline.
I, too, have a new book coming out. Deadline will be released on May 31st, which makes it technically a June book (ah, the wonders of reporting). So you'll be able to buy it from a bookstore near you, and you totally should, especially if you enjoy my cats being full of catfood, and not full of my delicious flesh. They eat a lot! I'll be in New York for the next week, which sadly limits the number of pre-release blog giveaways I can do (having no books as yet, the current number is "zero"), but I'll be doing fun things up until then. Primarily the ongoing, and increasingly grim, countdown to the Rising. You're welcome.

Book Expo America!
Why am I going to New York? For Book Expo America! This is going to be my first BEA, and I'm mad excited. I'll also be seeing friends, eating artisan frozen treats, and visiting both my publishers for an entire day, thus guaranteeing that they'll be sick of me and give me things in order to make me go away and leave them alone. I'm basically an animate mixed blessing. I'm planning to have a fabulous time, because I always do, and when I leave, I'm heading for...

Wiscon!
It's my first time. Be gentle. I'll be mixing drinks at the Whedonistas party, which is good, since I don't like trying to mingle at these things, but I loooooooooooove making mai tais and mojitos. Donations of strawberries gratefully accepted, because I always need more than I think I will. If you're over twenty-one and planning to be at the convention, you should come see the gleeful mania that is me with a cocktail shaker.

Cats.
Blue. Also, fluffy.

Monster High.
New dolls should be hitting the shelves ANY DAY NOW, and the search is driving me batty. The universe needs to stop taunting the happy fun blonde and gimme already, before my already strained patience decides that the time has come to snap.

...and that's my status for the day. How's by everybody else?

At this very moment, the lovely Catherynne M. Valente is in my guest bedroom getting ready for an event of such awesome and awe-inspiring proportions that it has actually stunned my cats into submission! (Okay, it was probably all the scritching that did that. But still...)

Cat is currently on tour for her new YA novel, The Girl Who Circumnavigated Fairyland in a Ship of Her Own Making. In addition to having the longest and hence most awesome title in this season's young adult releases, The Girl Who... features a girl named after a month of the year, a giant leopard, libraries, fairy queens, and all the other things one needs in a work of truly awesome literature.

Why does this matter to you, you ask me? Because today, and today only, you can see Cat at Borderlands Books in San Francisco, where she will be appearing at three PM to read, give a Q&A, and sign whatever you may happen to shove in front of her (no children that don't belong to you or legally binding contracts, please). She's full of pep and promise, and totally rockin', and you should come.

If you're more interested in Cat's adult work, she will be appearing at Writers With Drinks tonight at 7:30PM, where there will be boozimohol and slightly less YA content. A good time will be had by all, except by those who can't make it.

As a final note, please remember that Borderlands does take online and telephone orders, and that if you contact them before today's event, you can request personalized copies of any of Cat's books that they have in stock. (You can also request personalized copies of my books, but I am not the point today.)

Come out if you can, and help us blow the roof off this house!

Berkeley, California. July 4th, 2014.

The Berkeley Marina was packed with parents, children, college students on summer break, dog walkers, senior citizens, and members of every other social group in the Bay Area. A Great Dane ran by, towing his bikini-clad owner on a pair of roller skates. A group of teens walked in the opposite direction, wearing clothes so brightly-colored that they resembled a flock of exotic birds. They were chattering in the rapid-fire patois specific to their generation, that transitory form of language developed by every group of teens since language began. Stacy Mason paused in watching her husband chase her son around the dock to watch the group go past, their laughter bright as bells in the summer afternoon.

She'd been one of those girls, once, all sunshine and serenity, absolutely confident that the world would give her whatever she asked it for. Wouldn't they be surprised when they realized that sometimes, what you asked for wasn't really what you wanted?

"Where are you right now?" Michael stepped up behind her, slipping his arms around her waist and planting a kiss against the side of her neck. "It's a beautiful day here in sunny Berkeley, California, and the laser show will be starting soon. You might want to come back."

"Just watching the crowd." Stacy twisted around to face her husband, smiling brightly up at him. "Aren't you supposed to be watching something? Namely, our son?"

"I have been discarded in favor of a more desirable babysitter," said Michael gravely. His tone was solemn, but his eyes were amused.

"Oh? And who would that be?"

Behind her, Phillip shouted jubilantly, "Oggie!"

"Ahhhh. I see." Stacy turned to see Phillip chasing Maize in an unsteady circle while Marigold sat nearby, calmly watching the action. Mr. Connors was holding Marigold's leash; Maize's leash was being allowed to drag on the ground behind him while the Golden Retriever pursued his toddler target. "Hello, Mr. Connors! Where's Marla?"

"Hello, Stacy!" Mr. Connors turned to wave, one eye still on the fast-moving pair. "She went down the dock to get us some lemonades. Hope you don't mind my absconding with your boy."

"Not at all. It'll do both of us some good if our respective charges can run off a little of their excess energy." Stacy leaned up against Michael, watching as Maize and Phillip chased each other, one laughing, the other with tail wagging madly. "Maybe they can wear each other out."

Michael snorted. "That'll be the day. I think that boy is powered by plutonium."

"And whose fault would that be, hmm? I just had to go and marry a scientist. I could have held out for a rock star, but no, I wanted the glamor of being a professor's wife."

This time, Michael laughed out loud. "Believe me, I count my blessings every day when I remember that you could have held out for a rock star."

Stacy smiled at him warmly before looking around at the crowd, the sky, the water. Phillip was laughing, his sound blending with the cries of seagulls and the barking of over-excited dogs to form just one more part of the great noise that was the voice of humanity. She had never heard anything so beautiful in her life.

"I think we should all be counting our blessings every day," she said firmly. "Life doesn't get any better than this."

"Life can always get better." Michael kissed her one more time, his lips lingering light against her cheek. "Just you wait and see. This time next year, we won't be able to imagine looking back on this summer without thinking 'oh, you had no idea; just you wait and see.'"

"I hope you're right," said Stacy, and smiled.

***

The annual Fourth of July laser show at the Berkeley Marina was a huge success this year, drawing record crowds. Replacing the firework displays as of 2012, the laser show has become a showpiece of the year's calendar, and this year was no different. With designs programmed by the UC Berkeley Computer Science Department...

When will you Rise?

Okay, gang; I'm off to a wedding, and I won't be back for about eight hours. I will not be answering comments during that time. Please don't burn down the internet while I'm gone, I still need to use it for stuff.

Have a great Sunday!

1. The Roseville event was awesome, and the store now has autographed copies of all five of my currently published books. A Local Habitation is naturally in the shortest supply, so if you'd been planning to swing by the store and pick up a set, you should probably do so soon, before everything goes away. Thanks to Alex, for having me, and to Sunil, for bringing me wonderful goodies from England and giving me hugs.

2. In case you missed the announcement, An Artificial Night is in the BSC Review Book Tournament Finals, and Toby could use your vote. Also, once she has conclusively CRUSHED HER OPPONENT, I can stop posting about this, thus freeing up your valuable display space for other topics, like the ever-popular "complaining about my cats."

3. I really enjoyed the newest Disney Channel Original Movie, Lemonade Mouth. I did not enjoy them presenting the first hour of the movie sans commercials without warning me first, as it meant I had not brought a soda, or a blanket, or the paperwork I needed to finish during the movie, before sitting down on the couch. I am told the book is better than the movie. I must now read the book.

4. Served at yesterday's brunch: potato cake. It's cake, made of potatoes, bacon fat, and bacon. HOW CAN THIS BE? The spirit of sweetmusic_27 hovered over my shoulder and watched me eat it, and I now need the recipe, because I must cook it for her. It is a moral imperative.

5. I visited the Sacramento Shirt Shop, and plans for Wicked Girls shirts are now proceeding apace. I should be posting about it soon. Girl-cut shirts are available up to 2x, and we'll be able to do standard-cut shirts up to 5x, as needed, for no additional cost. Baby shirts are a different setup, and so would be a different order. Details will be forthcoming; I don't have them just yet.

6. I am solidly on target to hit 100,000 words on Blackout by Saturday. This is both incredibly exciting and incredibly stressful, since it means I'm coming closer and closer to the point where I have to stop setting things up in favor of knocking everything down. Considering what I have left to do in this volume, I'm starting to worry that the first draft may need more trimming than I thought. Since I am a perennial trimmer (better a late trim than a panicked plumping), this is okay, it's just surprising.

7. Zombies are love.

8. The Cartoon Network schedule for the rest of 2011 has been released, and Tower Prep is not represented. Here's hoping this is either a glitch, or they're about to announce moving Tower Prep to SyFy, where it could find an enormous audience and live forever.

9. I will probably celebrate hitting 100,000 words on Blackout by cleaning as much of my room as is physically possible and then writing the rest of "Rat-Catcher" in one feverish sprint. Don't judge me, this is how writers party hard.

10. Doctor Who comes back on Saturday. Saturday can't come fast enough.

Hey, gang:

Just a quick reminder to let you know that I will be at the Borders Books and Music in Roseville, California from one to four tomorrow afternoon. The store has made sure to get in copies of all my books, including the distressingly elusive A Local Habitation, and I'll have interesting things for show-and-tell, like copies of the German A Local Habitation, and cover flats of One Salt Sea.

The store address is:

Borders #130
2030 Douglas Blvd, Suite #9
Roseville, CA 95661

Big bookstore signings are always sort of hit or miss, and I hate it when I wind up sitting alone, trying not to stare at the shoppers like a hungry pug tied up outside the window of Starbucks. Please come and save me from the terror of having my eyes bulge out of my head with boredom. (I am excited to be appearing at this Borders, mind; I've never been there before, and it's an excuse to drive to Sacramento, which my perverse little soul regards as "fun.")

Hope to see you there!

LJ appears to be vaguely stable again, which is a nice change. I missed you, LJ! I know that blogging is dead, and it's the age of Farmville or the Tweet or whatever, and I'm on Facebook (technically) and Twitter (avidly), but my heart's true home is here, in Blogland, where I can write full sentences and punctuate them properly without worrying about the number of commas I use. I LOVE YOU, OXFORD COMMA.

Ahem. Anyway...

We're in a vague lull right now, which is nice, since it's letting me catch up on my word counts. I knocked out 2,000 words of Blackout last night, and then turned around and wrote almost as much on "Crystal Halloway, Girl Wonder, and the Truth Fairy's Curse," which sounds like a fluffy cross between Nancy Drew and every Harry Potter knock-off ever, but is, no shit, the most depressingly nihilistic thing I've written in years. Possibly ever. I made a giant spider cry. I have no regrets.

I do have a book event at the Borders in Roseville, California scheduled for next Saturday, and if you're local, it would be awesome if you could drop by. Borders events are much more low-key than the Traveling Circus, and sometimes it winds up just me, sitting at my little "in-store author" table, working on art cards and pretending that I'm not lonely. Help me not be lonely!

Speaking of being lonely, there's been, like, a hugenormous influx of people recently, and I honestly can't tell why. There was a little bump last week, when I posted about my decision to withdraw from Wicked Pretty Things, but since then, it's just been like, WHOA HOLY CRAP I DON'T HAVE THIS MANY PLATES. So if you're new here, hello! Welcome! Can you please tell me who you are and how you got here? I'm totally thrilled to have you, I just like to have some vague idea of what's going on. (Yeah, right. Like that's ever going to happen.)

In other news, water is wet, zombies are love, Jean Grey is still dead, and Thomas is rapidly approaching an improbable size.

What's new with you?

Hello, world! It's the Thursday before Wondercon, and I'm trying to take care of all the little rags and tags of reality that build up over the course of a week like cat hair on velvet pants. So anyway...

1. The fight is still raging in the BSC Review tournament! This round closes Sunday morning, at which point, eight books will be reduced to four, and those four will duke it out for the right to do to the bracket semi-finals. Cat and I both still have horses in this race, so please, help keep Toby swinging!

2. Speaking of Cat, her new book, Deathless, came out this week. Hooray for book release! There's a lot of neat free stuff to have and enjoy and be amazed by; my darling talkstowolves has made a big post collecting it all into one place. I even drew a Pretty Little Dead Ghoul for the occasion. Feel the love!

3. My new phone is lovely, and allows me to do exciting things like "take pictures of my cats" and "access Twitter from the train." It also allows me to answer email when I'm not at home, which is going to be a huge, huge relief as time goes on. It's already taken some of the weight off, since I've been able to respond to things while in transit.

4. Thomas and Alice have started working against me. Thomas jumped onto the back of my knees at four o'clock this morning, jarring me INSTANTLY AWAKE, at which point Alice began pushing their ceramic food dishes back and forth in the feeding tray. Scrape. Scrape. Scraaaaaape. So yes, I got up, and I fed the cats. I am so doomed.

5. The full-length trailer for the new season of Doctor Who has been released, and is so intensely awesome as to cause me to sit, weak-kneed and gaping at my monitor, for several minutes before hitting "play" again. I remain overjoyed and giggly over the fact that this show, my show, is back.

6. Also, there's a new My Little Pony cartoon that doesn't suck. I clearly control the universe. You can place your requests with Kate, who will only allow me to fulfill the ones that don't involve diseases or amphibians.

7. I'm getting ready to do a massive post office run, so I am once again taking orders for "Wicked Girls" posters. According to my files, if it's been paid for, it's been sent out; please email me if you don't have yours. Comment either here or on the original post if you'd like to request a poster, and we'll coordinate.

8. I will be mostly offline this weekend, as I will be attending Wondercon. I'll have my awesome new phone with me, but let's face it, when given a choice between answering email and staring raptly at James Gunn, James Gunn wins without a contest. I'll definitely Tweet my location at various points throughout the weekend, and if you find me, you could win a prize. Or not. I may be out of prizes.

9. Zombies are still love.

10. I get to see Amy this weekend (Mebberson, not McNally)! And Kaja! And Phil! And there will be cupcakes, and hugging, and artwork, and Mom will probably wear her chicken hat, and I'm so excited!!!!!

What's new and awesome in the world of you?

Did you miss the latest iteration of the Traveling Circus and Snake-Handling Show? Do you like your events a little more low-key? Do you want to hang out and get things signed? Well, you're in luck on all three counts, because I will be at the Other Change of Hobbit in Berkeley, California this Friday, from seven to nine PM.

Yes, I will read; yes, I will sign; yes, I will answer silly questions. Yes, there may be music, because I am me, and it is borderline inevitable that there will be music when I go around being me in a public place. Yes, the bookstore has copies of Late Eclipses, as well as all my other recent publications, including Whedonistas. Yes, I hope to see you there.

Book events are fun!

People of Earth, consider this your final warning: The Traveling Circus and Snake-Handling Show will be descending on Borderlands Books tomorrow, from six to nine in the evening. There will be cupcakes from Cups and Cakes Bakery, including the famous (or infamous) Mad Tea Party cupcakes originally conceived for the Emilie Autumn concert. (Chai cake, ginger buttercream, and strawberry jam.) We will endeavor not to eat them all before you get there, but it's gonna be hard.

There will be no actual snakes.

This iteration of the Circus includes Jeff and Maya Bohnhoff, who have never joined us for this particular madness, and are going to go a long way toward rocking the proverbial house. We'll have a raffle, a Q&A period, book signings, and all the random cheering you can stomach. There may even be some random dancing. Do you hear me? RANDOM DANCING!!!!

Come help us celebrate the release of Late Eclipses, and my first appearance on the New York Times bestseller list. If you can't attend, remember that you can order signed and inscribed copies of any of my books from Borderlands, and they'll be happy to hook you up.

Hope to see you there!

What: Late Eclipses release party.
Where: San Francisco's own Borderlands Books, home of the naked kitties.
When: Saturday, March 19th, from six to nine PM (probably followed by decamping down the street for dinner, because That's How We Roll).
Why: Because we like you!

The Traveling Circus is descending upon Borderlands in a new incarnation, to dazzle, delight, and entertain you as we celebrate the release of Late Eclipses. This particular circus spectacular will feature Vixy "Kitsune Girl" Dockrey, Tony "Tony" Fabris, Betsy "The Cellonator" Tinney, Jeff "Heavy Metal Squid" Bohnhoff, and Maya "The Crusher" Bohnhoff. Oh, also, me. This is the first time the Bohnhoffs have joined us for a Traveling Circus, and I'm very excited about the whole thing.

There will be a raffle, readings, Q&A sessions, music, and cupcakes. Borderlands Cafe will be open right next door, to satisfy your nourishment needs (because let's face it, man does not live by cupcakes alone). We always have a great time at these things, and part of what makes them so awesome is the way people show up and help us party. So please, show up! Help us party!

It's going to be a fun night.

Last night, in an effort to keep me off the Internet on my book release day (you can thank her later; I thanked her already), Our Meg hauled me off to the San Francisco stop on the current Emilie Autumn Asylum Tour. This may make it sound like I wasn't a willing conspirator. I was, to the extent of ordering cupcakes to be delivered to the venue (a brilliant stroke of genius on Meg's part, and one which I was happy to see come to fruition). We had three boxes sent over: one of Mad Tea Party (chai cake, ginger buttercream, and strawberry jam), one of mixed Vanilla and Pretty Pretty Princess, and one of mixed Chocolate and Grasshopper. Yes, we are quite possibly evil.

I get off work before Meg does, so I hied me down to Borderlands, where I hung out with Naamen and Cole, ate a scone, and signed some books. Then Meg collected me, and we went for dinner at Fritz's, where delicious mussels prepared me for the hike ahead. The club Emilie was appearing at, The Bottom of the Hill, was waaaaaaay the hell down 17th Street, in a neighborhood I didn't even know existed. It was a hike and Toby research at the same time!

Because we had VIP tickets, we had been advised to arrive at the venue by 7PM. Because we are, well, us, we arrived at the venue by 5:30PM, and watched as the steampunks, neo-punks, Victorian gaslamp burlesque girls, and other Plague Rats came trickling up. Meg sat on the sidewalk and performed her costume change, because she's awesome that way. I fidgeted and poked at things, because I'm predictable that way.

Eventually, we were let inside, where the stage manager recognized us as the cupcake girls, and made sure the rest of the VIP ticketholders knew who we were. Her pronunciation of my name was epic, and may have actually been one of the secret words which unlocks the walls of the world. We then went back to the little room where the tea and cupcakes had been set up, and there was much nomming, and all was right with the world.

Emilie Autumn is a tiny little thing who can wail on a violin, and I want to see her play with Amy. Just saying.

After the VIP gathering was over, everyone went and lined up to wait for their turn to get a picture and an autograph. Meg called me by name when I went back for a strawberry cupcake, and a woman ahead of us blinked, and asked, "Seanan McGuire?!" I agreed that this was so. She produced a copy of Late Eclipses from her bag. I signed it. Life was good. Meg and I were giggling about the oddity of it all when another girl in the line asked what I wrote. I told her...and shrieking happened.

So, you know. Apparently, I have fanbase overlap with Emilie Autumn. Who knew?

The show itself was, as expected, insane, a mixture of electronica and burlesque, madness, music, and mayhem. Meg and I had seats (yes, actual chairs) toward the back, and we treated them like gymnastic equipment, climbing to watch delighted as Emilie and the Bloody Crumpets owned the stage. Veronica stripped, Captain Maggot hooped, and the Contessa threatened to eat us all. Tea was tossed, audience members were kissed, and Emilie did half the show dressed as a Plague Rat.

Life is good.

It's official! Late Eclipses [Amazon]|[Mysterious Galaxy] is now available from fine bookstores everywhere in North America, and from many fine bookstores elsewhere in the world! HOORAY!

Here are a few things to help you celebrate:

Firstly, there are gorgeous Late Eclipses wallpapers and icons available now at my website! Dress your computer in its Toby-related finery, and enjoy Tara's increasingly incredible work every time you make a post or minimize your active windows. Wallpapers and icons from previous books are also available.

I've done a shiny new interview over at the Qwillery, and you can win a copy of Late Eclipses! Dust off your Shakespeare and get ready for a good time, or at least the kind of time that involves hearing about my writing process in faintly silly terms.

Because people ask a lot: every sale counts, and if it's a legit sale (IE, not from a guy in a trenchcoat standing behind the 7-11), I get paid for it. In order of "how helpful is this," it goes brick and mortar stores first, because a sale from them often leads to a re-order; online retailers second, since again, they have to restock when they run out; and ebooks third, as those never need to be replenished. Take two, they're small.

Finally, I am going to be at Borderlands Books this afternoon, doing a swing-through stock-signing. If you want a signed book, and will be unable to make my March 19th Borderlands event, you can call the store and place an order any time after 12:00 PST (when they open). I'm also willing to sign the first three books, Feed, Zombiesque, and Tales From the Ur-Bar (also coming out today).

Happy bookday to me!

Late Eclipses [Amazon]|[Mysterious Galaxy] is nearly upon us, and you know what that means. TRAVELING CIRCUS TIME!

The Traveling Circus (this time consisting of myself, Betsy Tinney, Vixy & Tony, and Jeff and Maya Bohnhoff) will be descending on San Francisco's own Borderlands Books on March 19th, where we will do our best to blow the roof off with our characteristic mix of music, madness, and random, unexpected cheering. There will be a raffle, and the cafe will be open to fill your bellies with delicious food. This is Jeff and Maya's first day at the Circus, so please show up and help us show them how we roll.

I'll post a reminder when we get closer to the event, and of course, all events are listed on my website appearances page.

Also potentially of interest, for those of you who can't make it to the party: remember that Borderlands Books will take orders for signed and inscribed books, and will happily ship them all over the world. I'll be swinging through the store on Tuesday, where I'll happily sign any books that are waiting in my queue. So if you want a personalized book, drop the store a line, and trade some cash for the knowledge that my pen has been put to paper in your name.

It's really a book!

And now, ladies and gentlemen...Late Eclipses [Amazon]|[Mysterious Galaxy] is officially six days from release. That's less than a week! How am I supposed to get all my freaking out finished in less than a week? Since flailing around screaming that the sky is falling doesn't help with my countdown, here are six things you may not know about me.

6. I love snakes and spiders, have no fear of sharks, and tend to giggle hysterically when I'm on a plane and it hits a patch of turbulence that makes it feel like we're going to fall out of the sky. I am, however, morbidly terrified of pudding. This translates into a fear of any type of slug that isn't so ludicrously colored as to seem like a special effect.

5. I will not go into brackish water, because of the potential for leeches. Even if I am assured that there are no leeches in the entire country, I will not go into brackish water, because of the potential for leeches. Leeches are just not okay. Thank you, Stand By Me. In an attempt to conquer my fear, I kept a jar of leeches in my kitchen for a whole year. Those leeches were okay, because they were behind glass.

4. My collection of My Little Ponies is epic and vast, and contains almost all of the larger buildings from the original 1980s run of the toy line. Yes, including the Paradise Estate, which is roughly the size of a large card table. In that misty, far-off future where I actually have an office of my very own, it's going to wind up evenly divided between research material and plastic horses. Because that's just how I roll.

3. I grew up really, really, really poor, and I read really, really, really fast. These things combined mean that I grew up a dedicated re-reader, and will read books that I enjoy five, ten, or even twenty times. My count on The Stand is somewhere in the mid-fifties. The weirdest thing about my current bounty of available reading material is the lack of re-reading. I haven't read any of my favorites in over a year, and it's making me twitchy.

2. I have these long, elaborate, lucid dreams that seem entirely real when they're going on, even down to my needing to eat and use the bathroom in my sleep. They always end when someone tells me that I'm dreaming, and while they tend to be very realistic and grounded, they also tend to involve elements of "in a perfect world," like, you know, being published. Part of me spends every day afraid someone's going to tell me I'm dreaming.

1. My childhood idols were Vincent Price, Marilyn Munster, and Doctor Who. Considering that, and considering the way my life has turned out, I don't think I'm doing so bad. And I think they'd be proud of me.

Welcome to the second, and hopefully final, portion of my not-a-con-report for Arisia. I really did have a wonderful time in Boston, snow and all, and I'm definitely going to be going back. Eventually. After I've had the opportunity to take a nice nap, and maybe watch a whole lot of really, really dumb television. Anyway, here are the summarized highlights (and lowlights), for your amusement and edification.

My candy corn hat! The Agent knows me too, too well, it seems, and when the time came to give me the last piece of my holiday gift, she led me to the dealer's hall and purchased me a felt candy corn hat from one of the local vendors. Yes. I now have a hat that looks like a piece of candy corn. TREMBLE WITH FEAR, MERE MORTALS. I wore this hat to almost every serious panel I had during the weekend, and proclaimed proudly that wearing it provided that I was a professional. I never said what kind of professional.

The Mad Science song circle! I didn't make it to very many filk events this year, sadly, because I was busy with other programming and also wound up spending most of Sunday vilely ill (more on this in a moment). But the Mad Science circle was awesome, and Ben Newman sprung a positively wicked new science parody on me. It was a very cool circle, and I'm so very glad I got to go.

Alice and Josh! My life is better when it contains large quantities of Alice, and since I had to leave my beloved Maine Coon in California, I supplemented diet of Alice with a local fan and acquaintance of mine from this blog. She and her husband took me to dinner, where I ate, unsurprisingly, shepherd's pie, and then she and I sat and talked for like an hour and a half while he ran off to a panel. It was a really nice, relaxing way to spend an evening, and I had a wonderful time. Since they didn't run screaming, I assume they did, too.

Meeting Toni! My friend Toni lives near Boston, and was able to come out to the convention on Saturday, transforming herself from "my Internet-only friend Toni" to "my friend Toni, whom I have met in real life." She brought her husband, who was witty and fun to talk to, and I brought Diana, who was witty and fun to talk to and bought me chicken fingers. There were exchanges of books and hugs, and life was very good. It's nice to have people transform from words on a screen into actual humans. It makes me happy.

The Guest Breakfast! Arisia had a special breakfast event on Sunday, where people could buy tickets to have a special, intimate breakfast with the Guests of Honor and Special Guests. Each of us had a table of our very own. Sadly for me, someone at the next table over was wearing a mango-based perfume, and the breakfast went rapidly from "yum yum, free fruit" to "quietly excusing myself, walking to the bathroom, vomiting copiously, and walking back to my table to resume being entertaining." I would become progressively sicker for most of the day. It was so much fun. My poor roommates had to deal with my basically being a creepy dead girl from a horror movie. How I try their patience.

Cat and Seanan strike back! Cat and I are getting pretty good at our urban fantasy girl version of "An Evening With Kevin Smith." Every time it happens, the crowd gets a little bigger, the questions get a little smoother, and our comfort levels get a little higher, which leads to, you know, more swearing, more craziness, and more references to Lord Byron's penis. It's a victory for everybody! This installment of the Cat-and-Seanan Show was pure hammered awesome, and we only had to decline one question, which is possibly a record. More impressively, I wasn't even able to walk without throwing up an hour before the panel. So this is what I do for love.

Better Off Ted! Diana and Cat introduced me to this show, and Cat's Netflicks account allowed us to wallow in it each night before bed. I now require the box sets. And maybe a meat blob.

Post-antibiotic science fiction gone wild! My final panel was on Monday morning, and was all about post-antibiotic science fiction. It turned into "Seanan defends her thesis on causative agents for the Black Death" for about twenty minutes, which seemed to be fun for everyone, if a little more mentally rigorous than I had wanted to be that early in the morning on the last day of a convention. I recommended not licking things as a way to avoid infection. You're welcome.

Flying home! Actually, the flight was pretty lousy. But my cats made up for it.

See you next time!

I thought fairly hard about whether or not to make this post, as I generally try not to say negative things that can't be veiled behind a lovely shimmering curtain of "no details here." In the end, I decided that the details I had were vague enough to be borderline-generic, with a few careful omissions. And this is an important "please don't be this guy."

On Sunday at Arisia, I was on a panel called "Fanfic As Writer's Workshop," for discussion of how the skills and techniques learned from writing fanfiction can be applied to writing original fiction. (Yes, Virginia, you can learn how to write by writing fanfic. But that is another post for another day.) I was, at the time, incredibly sick, due to exposure to mango (which I am highly allergic to), but I was determined to soldier through. It's probably a good thing that I was as sick as I was, since it prevented my becoming annoyed enough to shout. See? Vomiting has value!

The panel consisted entirely of women (myself, three other writers, and Diana). The room, while small, was quite well-filled, with a nice mix of people who wanted to discuss learning about writing through, well, actually writing. And, in the front row, was That Guy. He was fairly large; fairly unkempt; had not brushed his hair; appeared to be wearing basic black for its stain-concealing properties, rather than out of any goth sympathies; and was, when first sighted, vigorously picking at his teeth.

Please don't be That Guy, part one: If you're sitting in the front row of a panel, in full view of the panelists, please don't pick your teeth. If you must pick your teeth, please use a toothpick, or something, rather than using your fingers. We'd really rather not watch.

The panel began with enthusiasm, as each panelist explained their views on our topic, and we began taking questions from the attendees. That Guy stopped picking his teeth, which was a mercy, and began, instead, picking his ear. With the same finger.

Please don't be That Guy, part two: Sometimes we have itches. I get that. I, too, am an itchy person. But if you're sitting in the front row of a panel, and have already been seen to be picking your teeth, please do not stick the same finger in your ear. It makes the panelists very uncomfortable.

More questions from the audience. This is the point at which That Guy began truly interacting. "How do I get more readers for my fanfic?" he asked. "I wrote an alternate universe [SHOW] [SEASON], where instead of [MAN] killing [WOMAN], he rapes her."

Cue horrified silence. The fanfic community is largely female, for better or for worse, and that sort of statement is rarely going to go over well in mixed company. Diana, who was by that point far more diplomatic than I, tried pointing this out, along with the note that maybe, if he wanted people to trust him writing about rape, he needed to get them to trust him writing about other things, first. He countered with the fact that he had received good feedback from women. We moved on as quickly as possible.

Later in the panel, the topic of porn came up. Porn is, after all, the stereotypical reason people write fanfic, and that's not entirely a bad thing. So all of these women are now saying the word "porn," with varying degrees of enthusiasm.

Please don't be That Guy, part three: If you think there is ANY CHANCE that you might become visibly aroused by live women saying the word "porn," please DO NOT sit in the front row at a panel on fanfiction. They're going to say it, and what's going to happen is going to happen, and then I'm going to have to fight the urge to eject you from the room.

That Guy attempted to drag the panel back to a recounting of the plot of his fanfic several times, to the point where I actually asked him "How is this relevant?" (If you've ever been on a panel with me, or attended a panel with me, you'll know that I'm not opposed to topic drift, so long as it remains interesting and vaguely tangential. If I'm the one shutting you down, it's because you're so far off topic that you're no longer even in the topic's time zone.)

So please. This is a plea for everyone, male and female, who attends conventions and goes to panels: Please don't be That Guy. Don't sit to take up three chairs, sticking fingers in your facial orifices, and try to engage women in discussions on how rape in literature is awesome and not inappropriate in the least. Don't look offended when the panelists don't want to hand the panel to you, so that you can tell us about your magnum opus and why we all need to read it. And please, please, don't be creepy. For the rest of the weekend, if I saw That Guy, I moved to another elevator.

Let's play nicely with the other fans, and only creep them out with their permission, okay? I've done my best to be general here, but this one specific incident really drove home why this is something that needs to be said. No one was touched, cornered, or specifically harassed, but I had three people who attended that panel tell me how uncomfortable That Guy made them. Beyond that, I know how uncomfortable he made me.

I'm just saying.

ETA: Because this has come up twice, and is hence distracting: "please don't take up three chairs" does NOT mean "please don't be fat at a panel." You may be as fat as you do or do not wish to be, and as long as you're happy and healthy, I'm happy for you. But as I say on a regular basis, your backpack does not deserve a chair of its own. Neither does your leg, unless you are injured and require elevation. Neither does your arm. And if you're taking a chair each for your leg, torso, and arm, you have perhaps crossed a line.

I am not going to write an Arisia con report. I'm not good at them under the best of circumstances—they either wind up obscenely long and take six months to finish, turn into a series of comic strips, or make no sense—and these are not the best of circumstances, what with the "two conventions in two weekends" and "under a whole lot of deadlines" parts of our program. So these are the summarized highlights, for your amusement and edification.

Arriving in Boston! Persis picked me up from the airport, because a) Persis loves me, and b) I had made it quite clear that fuck you people, I am not going outside in the snow unless it's to enter a private car. No, I am not a prima donna; I simply refuse to take the bus or other forms of public transit when you have A FOOT OF SNOW on the ground. My sunny California upbringing can't handle the reality shift. I did, in fact, remain entirely inside the hotel until Monday afternoon, when I went outside in the snow, entered a private car, and returned to the airport. So screw you, New England winter; I am not your chew toy.

Hanging out with Rene! My room wasn't ready yet when we got to the hotel, so I wound up sitting with Rene, the Fan Guest of Honor, in the lobby Starbucks for about an hour. Rene was conchair for the Montreal WorldCon, and is a really neat guy. Plus he helped me get my luggage up to my room. Class act, yo.

Cat and Diana! My roommates for the weekend were the lovely Cat "The Crusher" Valente, and the equally lovely Diana "The Destroyer" Fox. They both arrived Friday afternoon, and seriously, it was like spending the entire weekend having an awesome slumber party with awesome people and our own private bathroom. Our hotel room looked like it had been hit by a localized tornado. A tornado of RAW AWESOME. I couldn't have asked for a better time. Plus? They brought me presents. (I also brought them presents. I like to share.)

The Paranormal Romance Weather Report! My first panel of the weekend was on the appeal of paranormal romance and the flirtation with the mainstream. The only panelist I'd met prior to sitting down at the table was Kelley Armstrong, which was sort of neat. We talked for an hour, and it was a lively and engaged discussion, but didn't come with as many book recommendations as people expected...so I used my closing comments to provide a cable-news style weather report on offerings in the urban fantasy and paranormal romance genres. Yes, complete with a "and next, here's John with sports!" closer. It was more fun than it should have been. Seriously.

Shawn! My good friend Shawn lives in Massachusetts, and swears he actually likes New England winters. This is because Shawn is insane. He actually came to the convention to see me! It was awesome. He is a good Shawn, and shall be renowned in song and story.

Shaenon Garrity, big-time star! Shaenon was the Webcomics Guest of Honor, which meant that her adorable mad science illustrations were all over the program book (awesome), and that she had the big box of Skin Horse strips available for people to paw through and purchase. I got one of my favorite strips. And also? A hug.

Ellen and Delia! Ellen Kushner and Delia Sherman are a) mad awesome, b) very sweet, and c) just plain cool. They're also involved with the Bordertown revival, about which I will blog more very, very soon. And Ellen? Ellen gave me an ARC of the new Bordertown book, about which I will also blog more very, very soon. So who has an ARC of the new Bordertown book? THAT WOULD BE ME. Dude, the trip was worth it for that alone, I swear.

Having an Irish pub attached to the hotel! One of the two hotel restaurants was an actual Irish pub, with actual Irish pub food. I basically ate shepherd's pie for every "real meal" I had during the weekend, and while that may not have been awesome from a Weight Watchers standpoint, it was pretty damn cool from a "don't flip out and kill everyone in a ten-mile radius" standpoint. You may now thank the Irish pub for saving mankind.

...okay, so even when I'm doing the quick-and-dirty highlights version of a con report, I can't condense it very well. Tune in next time, for more things that were awesome, or at least interesting, since "Seanan has an allergic reaction to some lady's perfume and spends the bulk of Sunday yearning for death" is totally making the list.

Since it's a "talking about birthdays" kind of a day, here's my own (belated) birthday report:

Last Wednesday was my birthday, and it was, quite frankly, pretty miserable. I had gone home from work early on Tuesday, suffering from a nasty cold. It had mostly cleared up by Wednesday morning, which was awesome, although there was still some, well, let's call it "blockage." The "blockage" continued to reduce over the course of the day, until somewhere around noon, when I sneezed, knocking the last of it free...

...and unleashing the GALLONS OF BLOOD I had apparently been storing in my sinuses, courtesy of an unnoticed six-hour-long nosebleed. I managed to burst a blood vessel deep inside my head with all the sneezing and misery of Tuesday, and then, well. Bleeding! Like it was an Olympic sport! Accompanied by dizziness from, you know, LOSS OF BLOOD. I managed to make it to the bathroom (barely), where I passed out on the floor, and was later found by a co-worker unconscious in a pool of my own blood. HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME.

(Yes, I have seen my doctor; no, it was not an aneurysm; it was really and truly just a burst blood vessel, and I am now fine. There have been no repeats of the "massive bleeding followed by passing out" party-time fun.)

Perhaps unsurprisingly, I was sent home from work after turning the bathroom into my own private horror movie, and—after medical what-not and transit—met up with my mother and youngest sister for our usual Wednesday errands. We actually put off going to the comic book store in order to drive to Berkeley and eat Indian food for dinner, because it made sense from a traffic perspective. I complained a few times about the lack of cake, but not with any real passion, as I was a) tired, and b) still a little out of it. We ate. We drove back to Concord. We went to the comic book store.

Upon entry, I declared happily, "It's my BIRTHDAY!", since it's awesome when your birthday corresponds to new comic book day. The staff looked theatrically shocked...probably because that was about when Libby (the owner's wife) emerged from the office with a cake.

Yes. A cake.

MY COMIC STORE GOT ME A BIRTHDAY CAKE.

Did you ever need proof that I was an enormous nerd? Because if you did, here it is: my comic book store GOT ME A BIRTHDAY CAKE. That is how much time I spend there. BUYING ME A CAKE amounts of time.

I love my life. Medical emergencies and all.

Last Thursday, I left work and went straight* to the San Francisco Airport, where I hopped on a big red and silver plane and flew to Seattle. Thanks to Virgin America's generous frequent flier plan, I was actually flying First Class, which meant a much bigger seat, no under-seat storage, and all the free booze I wanted to drink. I did not want any free booze. That was okay, though, since the men in front of me were pretty well-dedicated to drinking enough to justify their upgrades. I think they succeeded. I weep for their livers.

Vixy, Torrey, and Tony were waiting for me on the ground in Seattle. We collected my bags and went on a brief, fruitless search for a Wendy's before returning to the house, where Sooj, K, Fishy, and Lauren were waiting. Oh, the hugging we had! Also the presents. Everyone ooh-ed and ahh-ed appropriately over their shiny new copies of Wicked Girls. My presents had a distinctly dinosaur-y theme this year, which is something I will always approve of. Always.

Eventually, people went to bed. I slept like the dead. And slept, and slept, and slept, and was still the first person up in the morning. This is because there is Something Wrong With Me.

Friday, we went to Old Navy (the cats unpacked my suitcase, and I didn't notice, STOP LOOKING AT ME LIKE THAT), Borders, and the grocery store, since I was going to be spending Saturday cooking. And then we played Rock Band 3 until we all wanted to die. It was awesome. This being New Year's Eve, there were many parties being thrown, and many enthusiastic plans being made. Vixy had a headache, and I don't like crowds of strangers, so our enthusiastic plans consisted of staying home, watching 2012, and making rosemary shortbread. I rank this among my top ten New Year's Eves. Shortbread! And global disaster! And Vixy!

Okay, so admittedly, the science of 2012 isn't so much "bad" as "Warren Ellis on acid trying to explain Latin grammar, somehow getting used to fuel a sanity-destroying laser aimed straight at your cerebral cortex" levels of "insane," but hey, there's a GIRAFFE HELICOPTER. No movie with a GIRAFFE HELICOPTER can be all bad, right? Right?

Anyway, life is good, and if you spend the year as you spent the start of it, 2011 is going to make me pretty darn happy. Happy new year!

(*Well, "straight" except for the stops at the post office, Borderlands Books, and Fritz's for mussels and fries. Sadly, "I left work and went crooked" doesn't have quite the right meaning. And this is truly a pity.)

Item the first: kirylyn, you have won a copy of An Artificial Night in the fourth of my random holiday drawings. Please email me within the next twenty-four hours, using the contact form on my website, to be mailing your book. If I don't hear from you inside this time, I will have to draw a new winner. So I surely do hope I hear from you!

Item the second: I spent most of the day in San Francisco, as The Editor was flying in through SFO, and needed to be picked up and toted to her final destination (for the moment). With a stop at Borderlands Books, naturally, to meet the hairless cats. Sadly, the hairless cats were not in when we swung by, but we got to hang out with Jude, and I convinced a nice lady to buy Carousel Tides for her wife. So life, pretty good, really.

Item the third: Alice is continuing to get better, and has now improved enough to be pushy and imperious when she doesn't get what she wants. Given that at her worst, she was barely interactive, this is wonderful, and I relish being bullied by my big fuzzy baby. She knows it, too, and is taking shameless advantage of me. Oddly, I'm okay with that.

Item the fourth: My bedroom may actually be a black hole. I'm trying to clean up and rearrange in here, and it's dauntingly horrific. I keep finding things I didn't know existed, like a long box half-full of Stars Fall Home. In other news, I now have ten more copies of Stars Fall Home.

Item the fifth: As part of my cleaning efforts, I'm sorting, indexing, and purging my collection of My Little Ponies. When I'm done, I'll actually be able to make a coherent wish list. This is...maybe not such a good thing, really, since I have access to eBay. But hey. Everything has its downside.

How's by you?

As I've discussed before on this blog, I have OCD, which manifests itself most specifically in pattern-formation and obsessive tracking. Oddly, you can use my tracking as a bellwether for my overall mental health: If I'm tracking, I'm good, and if I'm not, I'm probably getting pretty alarmingly de-stable, and should be encouraged to start counting crows and writing down my results as quickly as humanly possible. (I saw six crows yesterday, indicating gold, in case you wondered.) I am at peace with my diagnosis, and have learned to live with my idiosyncrasies just as much as "normal" people live with theirs.

Of course, part of managing my flavor of OCD involves keeping my tracking detailed, dependable, and most of all, consistent. Which is why I depend on Franklin-Covey's planner refills to keep me from snapping and killing everyone in an unformatted rage. Only there's one small problem:

Since they unexpectedly redesigned the "Blooms" planner pages in 2005, I've insisted on going to the Franklin-Covey store in person, to be sure that what I'm getting is something I can actually use. And both California stores have been closed in the last year, resulting in great dismay and sorrow on my part.

Enter salvation, in the form of Washington, and Ryan. Because there is still one store—one beautiful, wonderful store—in Redmond. It opens at ten on Saturday mornings. Which is why, at nine-fifteen, Ryan picked me up and drove me to that glorious wonderland I often refer to as "the OCD porn store."

On the way, we saw a bald eagle. Just sitting there. Being the stone-dumb symbol of our country. DUDE WHAT THE FUCK. I mean, seriously.

Finding the store was easy, and we were the first ones there, probably because we were actually there before they opened. The manager on duty was a friendly, well-groomed blonde woman, originally from California, who said we were lucky to have come when we did, as the store will probably be closing in January. My heart broke a little. While I can understand that high-end planner products are probably more economically sold online, I always spend more in the physical stores, because I can put my hands on things, and really understand why I might need them.

Case in point: a deeply discounted orange leather purse. I opened it. I peered inside. I commented on all the pockets.

"I can put my planner in here," I said.
"Yes," said Ryan.
"I can put my Netbook in here," I said.
"Yes," said Ryan.
"I can put Alice in here," I said.
"Maybe," said Ryan.
"What's an Alice?" asked the manager.
"My cat," I said.

Ryan produced his iPhone, and produced a picture, which we showed to the manager.

"Holy crap," said the manager.

I bought the purse.

It was a glorious morning, filled with victory (and later, with pancakes). We even saw the eagle again, flying over the water, looking for breakfast. I mourn for the loss of the OCD porn store, where I never feel odd at all, just really, really efficient. And Alice does, in fact, fit inside my purse.

I am getting ready to hop on a plane bound for Portland, Oregon, where I will be the Filk Guest of Honor at Orycon 32, Portland's very own science fiction and fantasy convention. It's going to be a hoppin' weekend, filled with thrills, chills, and me trying not to walk into walls due to lack of sleep. Fun for the whole family!

My schedule for the weekend is as follows:

Friday, November 12th.
Opening Ceremonies, 7:00 PM. There is going to be an opening! It will be ceremonial! It will involve stuff! Also probably nonsense, flailing, and, you know, me. You should come.

Saturday, November 13th.
Reading, 10:30 AM. My reading conflicts with the second half of the SFWA business meeting, so I fully intend to show up out-of-breath and strung-out on caffeine, which is really the best way to begin a reading, if you ask me. Come! Hear me read something weird!

Signing, 12:00 PM. I'm part of the noon signing group, along with my beloved Jay Lake (and lots of other people). I will be signing pretty much anything that's put in front of me, except for binding contracts and checks.

Vixy and Tony concert, 4:00 PM. Come hear Vixy and Tony be AWESOME. Probably with help from Sunnie and me. AWESOME.

Seanan McGuire concert, 5:00 PM. For some reason, they expect me to show up for this. Huh. Can't imagine why...

Zombies!, 7:00 PM. It's time to get down with the living dead, and spend our Saturday evening talking about stuff too dead to live, and too dumb to care. I plan to wear my Mira pants, and bring the pandemic pain.

Sunday, November 14th.
The Match Game 2010, 11:00 AM. Wacky contestants will try to match answers with six panelists for real prizes! I'm a wacky contestant. Be afraid.

The Old Songs, 1:00 PM. I am the youngest person on the History of Filk panel. This should be fascinating.

Mixing Genres, 3:00 PM. To quote the panel description, "Combining genres—what readers want from blended genre stories, and why some editors and agents have trouble with them." Let's rock and roll.

So that's my schedule for the weekend. I'll be around the con at odd hours, naturally, and there will be copies of all three of my CDs available at the Friends of Filk table in the Dealer's Hall. Yes, all three: I found my leftover CD box from Montreal last year, and am bringing these precious, precious copies of Stars Fall Home to Portland. Where they will hopefully not come home with me. I miss my house.

Orycon!

Back in mid-September, Borderlands Books in San Francisco played host to the third Traveling Circus and Snake-Handling Show, assembled to celebrate the release of the third (yes, already) October Daye book, An Artificial Night. Yay! I love Borderlands, I love the Circus, and I love book release parties, so this was like a whole casserole baked entirely out of pixie dust and joy. PIXIE DUST AND JOY.

We began with me, Amy, Brooke, Ryan, and Mia at my house, getting ready for the day ahead of us. This largely consisted of "putting on clothes" and "packing the event kit," a large orange plastic box that carries all the non-perishables needed for a big book party (raffle tickets, raffle prizes, bookmarks, paper plates, pens for signing stuff, occasionally one or more of the cats if we don't seal it fast enough). Ryan and Mia drove off with Amy. Mom picked the rest of us up, along with my youngest sister* and her girlfriend, and we drove to San Francisco, only stopping off to buy classy, classy cake from the warehouse store.

We got to the bookstore hours early, and stowed our stuff in the bookstore before scattering to find food. Amy, Brooke, and I would up going to a tacqueria down the street, which fed us delicious Mexican food, and kept Brooke from killing and eating us all. I ate a chicken burrito, nom, and we walked back to the bookstore to find a Kate sitting outside, reading a book, and the rest of the descending Circus waiting inside. Hooray! CIRCUS TIME! The entire Circus was wearing orange and black and green. ORANGE GIRLS OF THE WORLD, UNITE. Seriously, it was MAD AWESOME.

The night was divided into five distinct activities: music; raffle drawings; cake; reading; Q&A. We had breaks between activities, so people could mill, visit, use the bathroom, and shop (being as we were in a very large, enticing bookstore and all).

MUSIC: Musicians from everywhere! Alphabetically by instrument, we had Brooke Lunderville on banjo, Betsy Tinney on cello, Amy McNally on fiddle, SJ Tucker on guitar and vocals, Michelle "Vixy" Dockrey on vocals, and me on occasional "flustered author is flustered" vocals. (We did close with "Wicked Girls," so that's all right.)

RAFFLE: You got one ticket for showing up, one ticket for a purchase from the cafe, and one ticket for a purchase at the bookstore, for a maximum of three tickets per person. The drawing included everything from books to pendants to toys, and was fun, as always, with the usual amount of fuss and cheering for the winners. Buckets of fun.

CAKE: We had two cakes, and no cake cutting device. So Alan, glorious Alan, cut the cake with a gladius. I love having events at Borderlands. I love it SO DAMN HARD.

READING: Because I didn't want to read from the third Toby book, I read "Lost" from Ravens in the Library. When I started the story, the store had three copies left in stock. When I finished it, they had...zero. Literally, I started to say "I think this may be the last one," and Jude signaled that no, it had been sold while I was reading. Super-fun! Also, I made Vixy cry. Flawless victory.

Q&A: The Q&A was, as always, insane. You should come to one sometime.

During the milling sections, people talked, bought books, bought pendants, and bought copies of Sooj's new album, Mischief. (We wound up selling out of that, too.) Many books were sold, many hugs were given, and at the end of the night, we bid the bookstore a fond farewell and went down the street to Fritz, where we ate fries and mussels and crepes, and were joyful.

Everybody loves a night at the circus. Don't you?

(*The one who looks like a zaftig gothic Betty Page.)c

My last full day in Australia dawned bright and clear, and best of all, WorldCon-free*, which meant Jeanne and I could get in some high-quality TOURISM before I had to go to the airport and catch my flight back to the United States. FOR GREAT JUSTICE. Our plans for the day involved hitting the Melbourne Zoo (renowned among zoos for being TOTALLY BITCHIN'), and then driving a gazillion miles** to Phillip Island to witness the Penguin Parade.

We got up stupid-early in the morning to meet Mal and his very sweet friend whose name I have since forgotten, because I Am Crap With Names. They had rented a car for the day, because they are wonderful, thoughtful people. And it was off for the zoo! Well. Off for breakfast. But after that, the zoo! Hooray the zoo!

Sadly for us, several school groups had also decided that this was a yay the zoo kind of day, and the place was swarming with children. I do not question the right of children to go to the zoo, nor, in fact, the need for children to go to the zoo. But when it's one adult to thirty small boys, I start to feel a little bit like a cat surrounded by Aeslin mice, and that isn't a fun sensation. We chose the path that seemed least likely to intersect with the school groups, and started wandering.

The Melbourne Zoo is just as awesome as its press implied it would be. Within the first twenty minutes, we'd seen snow leopards, cougars, bears, and tigers, and I had decided that this was the zoo where the fourth InCryptid book would be set. SURPRISE. We went on to see an enclosure containing only male lions, who were, um, rather dedicated to finding some females; a large pack of African wild dogs; some cool birds; giraffes; a bunch of wild turkeys; and the biggest damn tortoises I have ever seen in my life. Seriously, people could live in those shells. If they weren't, y'know, already occupied.

And then, wonder of wonders, miracle and miracles...the Reptile House. Which was full of glories untold and miracles unnumbered, including several species of snake that I had never actually seen before. Because I love my snake-fearing friends, I will not go into explicit detail, save to say that I had a powerful bonding experience with a taipan, and small boys who taunt rattlesnakes should be put out of the Reptile House at once.

We wandered the zoo a bit more, with a stop for lunch before we entered the Australian wildlife exhibit. Kangaroos roamed free, wombats burbled, and Jeanne and I finally got to see an echidna. Yay! We stopped the admire the echidna. At great length. A zookeeper noticed us clustered there, and came over to announce that she'd be doing a koala show in five minutes at the (connected) koala enclosure. We allowed as how this was very nice for her, and kept watching the echidna, I don't know, echid. Whatever you call what an echidna does. Ten minutes later, the zookeeper came back and asked, if she told us all about the echidna, would we come and see the koala show. Would we ever!

I got to touch an echidna. My life is now complete.

The koala show turned out to be pretty cool, too, and their young female koala—named "Alice," nicknamed "Devil Spawn," which proves that there's an Alice everywhere—was spritely and fun to watch, unlike her wild cousins. Totally worth the stop.

We also saw: manta rays with awesome leopard spots on, platypuses swimming (and being way smaller*** than I expected them to be), elephants taken VERY SERIOUSLY, lemurs, orangutans, fish, seahorses, and penguins. And then it was time to leave the zoo, so that we could spend hours upon hours in the car, driving to Philip Island. Mal's friend left us then, as he did not want to spend hours upon hours in the car. Mal's friend is a smart guy.

I kept myself amused during the drive by counting Australian magpies, as they were everywhere. One's for sorrow, two's for joy—does anybody know what seventy-eight is for? Because there were a lot of magpies. It was like being escorted across Australia by Vixy in spirit guide form. Hi, Vixy!

We reached Philip Island fifteen minutes before the Penguin Parade began. Now, this is not a tightly scheduled thing; the term "penguin parade" actually refers to the completely natural life cycle of the Fairy Penguin. They go out to sea in the morning, and return on the evening tide, whereupon they parade up the beach to get back to their nests. Humans sell tickets to watch this happen. The penguins don't get it. But hey, if we want to freeze our asses off sitting on the bleachers and watching them walk, more power to us.

It was like something out of The Last Unicorn. Waves would roll in, and leave behind little foot-high penguins when they rolled out again. Then the little penguins marched up the beach, making fantastically loud noises. It was magical. It was bizarre. It was freezing. We ran for the hot cocoa stand when it was over, and that stuff did NOT last long.

Signs in the parking lot requested that we check under our car for penguins. That's Australia, all over. Hello, welcome, please do not flatten a penguin when you leave.

I am so glad I got to go.

(*I loved WorldCon, and had a fantastic time, once I started actually sleeping again. But it was awfully nice to be done with all my "official" duties that didn't involve enjoying the native wildlife and putting horrific things in my mouth.)

(**As a native Californian, I tend to view most places as being somewhat small and quaint. Yes, I realize this is insane, and potentially insulting, but I can't help it. My state is gargantuan, and it's messed up all my ideas about scale. Well, Australia is a continental FUCK YOU to this tendency, being as it is, I don't know, A CONTINENT, and is thus FUCKING ENORMOUS. Australia could eat California as a nice snack with some tea and scones and maybe a side order of Greenland. Australia is AWESOME.)

(***Sorry, Perry the Platypus.)

So October is basically "embarrassment of riches" month here in the San Francisco Bay Area, at least as far as author events and awesomeness are concerned. Being a sensible person, I like things which are awesome. This weekend? Has a whole lot of awesome packed into a relatively small space. HOW DO THEY DO IT?!? I DO NOT KNOW. But you—yes, you—can benefit from it.

First up, tomorrow! Professor Laurence A. Rickels, author of I Think I Am: Philip K. Dick (available from the University of Minnesota Press) will be at Borderlands Books at 3:00 PM. One presumes he will be talking about his book. And immediately after he's had his turn...

ZOMG SKIN HORSE! Shaenon Garrity and Jeffrey C. Wells will be at Borderlands Books at 5:00 PM, celebrating the awesome-tastic release of Skin Horse, volume II in a delicious dead tree edition. It's gonna be awesome. Are we prepared to face Shaenon and Jeffrey together, in the same place? I do not know. But again, you can benefit from it, because dude.

Sunday, also at Borderlands Books, Richard Kadrey will be appearing to talk about the second book in the Sandman Slim series, Kill the Dead. Words cannot properly express how much I loved this book, and its predecessor, Sandman Slim, which is now in paperback. He'll be at the store at 3:00 PM, being AWESOME.

All events are free of charge, and remember, you can contact the bookstore to place orders and requests for signed books of your very own. I'll be attending the Skin Horse party, because I am a sensible blonde, and because I have been promised cupcakes. I hope to see you there!

Last night was all about me and Cat Valente and the SoHo Gallery for Digital Art, home of the New York Science Fiction Review series of readings. Because, you know, when you import yourself a couple of fairy tale girls, the only thing to do is stick them in front of a large crowd and wait for the fun to begin.

But the fun has to begin at the beginning...

My flight got in right on time, which was a small blessing, since I wasn't really sleeping very well. Mind you, the fact that I was able to sleep at all made me a lucky girl. I had actually upgraded my ticket to Main Cabin Select, as that was the only way to get out of being crammed into a middle seat for five hours in the air. I turned out to be the only person in my row, and was able to pull the "belt yourself into the middle seat, curl up like a pillbug, and sleep" trick. Blessed empty seats, how I adore thee. But there were screaming babies on the plane, and there was turbulence, and it was not a restful night.

Jon and Merav collected me from the airport, and—after dropping Merav at work—Jon drove me home...where Kate was already waiting on the front stoop. Whoops. We went inside. I plugged in my laptop to make sure nothing was on fire, and the phone calls began, making it quite clear that a nap was not in my future. Well, fine, be that way, universe. After showering and changing my clothes, we were off, to meet The Agent in lovely downtown Manhattan, and eat lunch. Because without sleep and without food, I was going to murder someone.

(Incidentally, this was the first time The Agent got to meet Kate. They got along. So when they destroy your puny planet, don't worry. I'm sure they'll make you a nicer new one before long.)

Lunch was challah French toast and mussels, at least for me. Om nom. From there, we went to a lovely tea house The Agent knew about, where she and Kate drank lovely tea, and I passed out on a love seat. Eventually, The Agent went off to do something else, and Kate stole my headphones, while I...passed out on the love seat again. But then! A Cat Valente came and joined our party! Hooray! Kate and Cat sat and chatted while I achieved that nebulous state known as "wakefulness," and we set out for the venue. With one of those "only in New York" stops along the way, to buy hand-crafted artisan popsicles. No, seriously. I mean it.

We ate our popsicles, giggled a lot, and walked onward, to the SoHo Gallery of Digital Art...and into our very own fairy tale. The walls were covered in our books, our faces, our everything, and it was incredible. It was like a dream. I squeaked. We stared in awe. And then, because we needed our fairy tale faces in this fairy tale place, we ran off to change our clothes, Cat into a mad awesome tailored suit, me into a bright orange skirt and green top. And then the flood began.

We were both a little worried, in that abstract author way, that no one would show up. It turns out that what we should have been worried about was violating fire code, as the room wound up so packed that we ran out of chairs, then ran out of wall, and finally, ran out of places to stand. Wow. Everyone from DAW came—I got to meet Saladin!—and so did most of my New York friends, along with people like K. Tempest Bradford and Ellen Kushner and Teri Windling OH MY GOD I MET TERI WINDLING.

Ahem.

Cat read an absolutely gorgeous piece from The Habitation of the Blessed. I read "Laughter at the Academy: Field Studies in the Development of Schizotypal Creative Genius Personality Disorder." Everyone sighed and swooned at Cat's reading; everyone laughed in the appropriate places at mine. I got to shout "IGNITE THE BIOSPHERE!" in a room full of people who'd actually come to hear me do just that. It was magical.

In the Q&A afterward, someone asked us if we'd ever considered doing a photo shoot as Snow White and Rose Red.

And Cat and I laughed.

I have arrived safely in New York.

I have arrived safely in New Jersey.

I have arrived safely at Jon and Merav's house, where I have a bed, and a shower, and Internet access, and Kate.

I will now take a shower, put on clothes, and get ready to head for tonight's reading at the New York Review of Science Fiction. If you're local, you should totally come. It's going to be a blast.

New York!

Okay, like, wow. How is it October? It's not supposed to be October. It's supposed to be, I don't know, somewhere comfortably in the middle of August (only then I suppose the Hugos wouldn't have happened yet, and I'd still be a neurotic mess, so maybe that's not the best thing for me to be wishing for). I love the fall, it's my favorite time of the year, and I love October, it's my favorite month of the year, and since I both need a three-week-long nap and a finished draft of the fifth Toby book, this whole "welcome to October" thing isn't working out for me as well as it otherwise might.

On the plus side, however, I'm mostly packed for tonight's red-eye to New York. I'll be met on the other end by Jon (of Jon and Merav), who will carry me off to my East Coast home in Jersey City. (Let's face it. Once I understand how to handle your recalcitrant plumbing, I basically live with you.) I will then take a really long nap, because good ye gods, red-eye flight, before a) letting Kate into the flat, b) calling The Agent about lunch, and c) heading into Manhattan for the big adventure.

What big adventure, you may ask? Why, me, reading with Cat "the Crusher" Valente at the New York Review of Science Fiction. TWO AUTHORS ENTER, BOTH AUTHORS PROBABLY LEAVE. I'm so excited! When you put me and Cat on the same stage, and give us a microphone, a good time is basically guaranteed. The doors will open at 6:30 PM, and there's a five dollar suggested donation. I recommend arriving early, for good seating (although I don't think there's going to be a splatter zone). Cat put it really well. She said, "Sometimes I get matched up with another reader with whom I become friends, but being paired with one of my sisters and shipmates just makes everything so fun and relaxed. Plus, we encourage each other dreadfully." So come and see us encourage each other dreadfully! It's going to be a fabulous time.

I'm also going to be at the New York City Comic Con this upcoming weekend, as both myself and my own evil twin. Seanan will be doing the Penguin Panel on Friday night, and a signing at the Penguin booth on Saturday. Mira will be doing the Zombie Panel on Saturday night, and a signing at the Orbit booth (also on Saturday). I'd love to meet you! Please, swing by if you're at the convention! Just, y'know, please don't show up for my Seanan-signing with eight copies of Feed, or my Mira signing with all the Toby books. I try not to antagonize my publishers like that.

I get to see The Agent, and The Editor, and all my New York friends. I get to eat interesting food and ride the PATH train and generally have a wonderful time. All while making word count every night, because a girl has got to eat (or she'll end up on the street). And then I get to fly home, and keep making word count, because word count never rests.

Anyway, if you're in New York, I hope I get to see you, and if you're not, I hope I get to see you some other time. Any pending prizes will be mailed when I get back, as I am a bad blonde, and forgot to buy new book mailers.

Oh, babe, I hate to go.

Saturday continued the "early comes the dawn" trend, with Jeanne and I both out of bed by seven. Jennifer and Jeff didn't murder us for our sins against the sleeping, and that's probably a sign that they're in line for sainthood. (Then again, we didn't murder them for snoring, so maybe the scales are just nicely balanced.) This was already shaping up to be my busy day, and just got busier once we got to the convention center and discovered that my three o'clock panel had been moved to noon. Yay for the fluidity of time!

(Footnote: Originally, I was supposed to be on the eleven o'clock panel about female superheroes. For some reason, it wasn't printed on my badge, and I wound up not attending, since once the convention starts, my back-of-badge panel list is about the only thing that can make me change directions. While this was deeply disappointing at the time, all recountings of the panel have made me glad to have missed it, as I might have killed someone. Hint: telling me that there is no sexism in comics is a good way to get your head bitten off. I am a vermicious knid when provoked.)

The time-shifted panel was that glorious old standby, "What Is Filk?", and consisted of me, Bill Sutton, Kathleen Sloan, and Terence Chua. If you want a bunch of people to talk about filk and the definitions of same for an hour, well, you could do one hell of a lot worse. It was a lot of fun, watching all the local filkers realize that no, really, They Are Not Alone. We are filk. We are legion, yo.

I went literally straight from my panel-on-filk into an hour-long two-person panel with Paul Cornell, titled "Fringe: Paranormal Investigations in SF Television." I adore Paul. I adore geeking madly with Paul. And I adore paranormal investigations in science-fiction television. This panel was like the delicious chocolate bonbon of my weekend, and the only way it could have been better is if Jeanne had delivered a ham, cheese, and tomato croissant to me at the panel's end.

Oh. Wait. BEST PANEL EVER.

My signing was scheduled for four, right after Cat's signing. I went over and kept her company for a while, until her line began to form and she was occupied by her fans. Ah, the trials of stardom. Or something. Her signing ended, mine began, and I signed a bunch of stuff (as one does), while inking during pauses between people. Someday, this damn mermaid will be finished.

The AussieCon V filk concert was arranged a lot like the UK Filkcon Main Concert: everyone piled into a single room and performed two or three songs during the multi-hour slot. Kathleen Sloan was my stunt guitarist, and we went on after (among other people) the Suttons, Terence, and Nan Freeman. NO PRESSURE. I performed my own "Wicked Girls," and Vixy and Tony's "Burn It Down," both of which went over very well, before running to get changed for dinner.

Dinner! It was me, Jay and Shannon, Daniel and Kelly, and two people whose names sadly escape me right now (I'm sorry!). We went to a very nice place attached to the casino attached to the hotels attached to the mall, where we spent several hours chatting, enjoying decadently good food, and, in my case, eating a big bowl of bugs. Bay lobster! It's delicious! And looks like a horrible cross between a lobster and a trilobite, which made it EXTRA DELICIOUS.

There was some unpleasantness about the service, but Daniel was able to resolve it with a minimum of fuss, and we all decamped back to the Hilton to resume Barcon. While there, I got to meet Ellen Kushner, and tell her that she's a big part of why I write urban fantasy now. Also, there were cocktails. Which made it easier for me to actually fall asleep when I finally made it back to my hotel, since, well...

Saturday night. That meant it was almost time for the Hugos.

I did not sleep through the night.