It's fan art awesomeness time! shadow71689 has designed some incredible Newsflesh banner art, using my casting choices for Shaun and Georgia as her models. Seriously, this is some high-quality photo manipulation, and I am in awe.

Not only that, but she's cooked up a truly awesome soundtrack for Shaun; I've bought all the songs off iTunes, and I'm rocking to it RIGHT NOW. Check out her work, it's mad cool!

I am a happy blonde.

Hey hooray, it's ANTHOLOGY TIME! I love anthology time. And I have stories in two upcoming anthologies, both available for pre-order now!

First up is Home Improvement: Undead Edition, edited by Charlaine Harris and Toni Kelner. This is my first-ever hardcover publication, and I am so excited I'm flailing. What's more, this is the first time a Toby short story has actually been printed. Yes; my story in this is a Toby piece.

"Through This Houses" chronologically bridges Late Eclipses and One Salt Sea. It isn't required reading; you can skip it, read the books, and be totally happy. But if you do, you'll miss Toby shoving May off a cliff, Quentin being awesome, killer pixies, and the house telling everyone to get out. Home Improvement: Undead Edition will be published August 2nd, and can help take the edge off your need for more Toby Daye.

Second is Human For A Day, edited by Jennifer Brozek and Martin Greenberg. This is Jennifer's first DAW anthology, and I couldn't be prouder to be a part of it. What's more...

Who read Tales From the Ur-Bar? Good. And who remembers Mina Norton, my cranky little gaslamp alchemist bartender with the seasonal monarch issues? Better! Well, Human For A Day contains my second Mina Norton story, "Cinderella City," in which she and the King of Summer ("James" to his friends) team up with the incarnate city of San Francisco to stop all of California from tumbling into the sea. Human For A Day will be published December 6th, and needs to grace your shelves.

And that's my publication news for today. I will now resume preparing frantically to leave for San Diego. Shower time!

Today is a day for poetry.

My poem, "Post-Modern Cinderella," has been published in the summer issue of Goblin Fruit, along with many other lovely things, by many other lovely people. Cat is telling Persephone's story all over again (we are forever telling Persephone's story, apples and snow, pomegranates and winter, lilies on a grave), there is Coyote, and Apollo, and a beauty in a tower. You should go and read and be filled with fairy tales, because fairy tales exist to fill the hollow places.

And also and also and also: my darling Mia, of chimera_fancies, who has made me so many beautiful fairy tales to hang on ribbons 'round my neck, is selling little bits of Bordertown for you to take, and wear, and love. They're made from ARCs of Welcome to Bordertown, and they're amazing.

As with all Mia's pendants, each piece is unique, hand-made, and waiting for the right person to claim it. You should take a look; one of them may be singing for you, waiting for you to come and carry it away.

And that is the time, and that is the tide, and there are pomegranate ices in the garden. I'll see you soon.

As most of you are probably aware by now, I collect generation one My Little Ponies from the 1980s. I have something on the order of two hundred plastic horses, a bunch of the playsets, and an open door policy toward boxes of Ponies found in attics of childhood homes. (Seriously. It's amazing how often people write me and go "I found this box, do you want it?" I have several Ponies I love very much that I acquired in this manner.)

As I slowly prepare to move, I've been sorting, indexing, and packing large portions of my Pony collection. I don't actually have a comprehensive list of what I do or don't have; a lot of my Ponies came from eBay job lots, or from the aforementioned attic finds, so there are duplicates, and Ponies whose names I don't know.

I mentioned on Twitter that I was doing this. And one of my Tweeps, a very lovely paranormal romance writer named Delilah, asked if I had her favorite, a yellow Rainbow Pony Pegasus named Skydancer. She lost her Skydancer in a fire when she was a kid. I understand losing Ponies. Part of why I collect is because I lost my childhood collection before I was ready to part with it. I affirmed that I did have Skydancer, and more, that I had a duplicate, and would she like her?

She would like her.

Skydancer has reached Delilah, and is finally home. I have reunited someone with their favorite Pony. And it strikes me that this is the thing we often don't want to understand about fear, or pain, or grief, or loss. Sometimes, we need to focus on the little things to survive the big ones. When a house burns down, we mourn a toy. When a grandparent dies, we get upset about missing a TV show. It's not being petty. It's coping with small so the big doesn't break you.

To quote Delilah: "I have Skydancer again. It's like a tiny little wound in my soul healed, risen like a rainbow-haired phoenix. What is lost can be found."

I feel like the world is going to be okay today.

Today is Thomas's first birthday! Yes. One year ago precisely, Thomas Price Lynn Rhymer Taylor McGuire was unleashed upon the world by Betsy Tinney at Pinecoon Maine Coons, who was kind enough to then let him come and live with me. In honor of his birthday, Thomas has been brushed, cooed over, given treats, and didn't get yelled at for sleeping on the counter.

And now...pictures.

( We cut because we care. Also because large graphics are never a good surprise, not even when they're pictures of beautiful kitties.Collapse )

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!

Who likes free stuff? I know I do! Plus I just got my author's copies of the North American edition of Deadline, which is gorgeous and makes me happy. Also I have a fantastic book trailer. So how can I combine these things?

Like this.

I am giving away two signed copies of the North American edition of Deadline to people who watch and link to the book trailer. To enter, do the following:

1. Watch the trailer, because it is awesome. If you have a YouTube account, you can also leave a comment to let Lauren, who did the graphic design, know how awesome it is. This is optional.

2. Link to the trailer. Blog, Facebook, Twitter, bathroom wall graffiti (although in that case, I want a picture).

3. Comment here letting me know that you have done both things.

...and that's all. I'll pick two winners via random number on Friday, and then? Wonderful goodness can be arriving in your mailbox! North American entries only, please, unless you're willing to pay some of the postage; shipping books outside the continent is just too expensive for me right now. :( I'm sorry about that.

But wait, there's more. I will pick a third winner, also by random number, and they will receive an exclusive button set—one each of the Feed and Deadline buttons made by Orbit for handing out at conventions. Not sold in any store! Totally spiffing!

Oh, and because this trailer launched last week, step #2 can absolutely be retroactive. So if you already blogged or Tweeted or whatever, just let me know, and I'll enter you in the drawing. Not that I'd object to your doing it again, but my goal here is not spamming the internet, because spamming the internet makes people sad and bitey.

You know what comes next:

GAME ON!

Oh, my stars and garters, the ARCs are here. One Salt Sea is a real book, for real and for true, and I can hold it in my hands.

And it is beautiful.

I am so conflicted and amazed by this book. It's the first Toby book written entirely A.D. (After DAW); the other four were finished, to one degree or another, when I got that very first contract. It's the final book of my second contract; Ashes of Honor and The Chimes at Midnight are actually part of my third contract. It's the book most changed by the improvements in my ability as a writer. The original villain isn't even in the book. The story is tighter, the action is cleaner, and some of the things that happen—some of the things that always had to happen—hurt ever so much more than I ever dreamed they could.

It's a real book. I wrote it, and it's real. It's what comes after Late Eclipses, and it's real. I'm honestly a little bit stunned. Part of me never dreamed that I'd make it this far. But I did, and I have, and the books are here, in my hands.

It's amazing.

So it turns out that even being deathly ill doesn't stop the world from continuing to produce awesome things, and that's what we're talking about right now. Specifically, we're talking about the part where Orbit has created an absolutely stunning book trailer for the Newsflesh series—and if you watch to the very end, you might catch a sneak peek at the cover for Blackout! Watch the video, spread links, tell your friends. Let's go VIRAL.

Seriously, this is my first book trailer, and if I weren't so damn sick, I'd be jumping around and screaming. Please, please, check it out, spread it around, and see if we can't convince my publisher that I should always get these. Because they're awesome.

Once you've seen the trailer, why not gussy up your computer with a little bit of home-brewed awesome in the form of icons and wallpapers from the Mira Grant website, created by the ever-fabulous Miss Tara? The site itself is about to get some pretty massive updates (they were planned for this week, and then I slept for two days), but the icons and wallpapers are fresh and sweet and waiting for you right now.

Not quite the same, but semi-related, you can read my thoughts on California's recent unseasonable rains and how they relate to writing speculative fiction at Larissa's Bookish Life, where a guest blog I wrote for her has been posted. It's not as visually striking as the first two items on our list, but hey, I managed to make it vaguely applicable, right?

Oh, and hey, the Blog Critics include Feed in an article on dystopias, alongside 1984 and The Hunger Games. I directed a stage production of 1984 in high school. Seeing my book in a graphic with that book is like...whoa. I win the universe.

That's all for now. I'm going back to bed.

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.

...also, mixing my metaphors a bit, but still, I think the statement is valid. I am running as fast as I can just to stay where I am, and while it's fascinating, it's also a bit terrifying. I am trying to do ALL THE THINGS! All the things AT THE SAME TIME! Eventually, I will spontaneously combust, and that will be funny. (Also, how is it my spellcheck knows the word "necrosis," but not the word "combust"? Oh. Wait. It's my spellcheck.)

And now, for the periodic administrative stuff.

Wicked Girls T-shirts.
Deborah is continuing to contact people, collect mailing information, and provide payment information. This is because Deborah is wonderful. If you haven't heard from her, you may be in the part of the spreadsheet she hasn't processed yet, or you may need to check your spam filter, as there are people who have been contacted who have not yet replied. Once we finish going through the spreadsheet and shaking it as hard as we can for stragglers, we will need to go to print, and any unpaid orders will be canceled. We're only printing as many shirts as have been paid for. So check your spam filter today!

Events.
I have, like, ALL THE EVENTS coming up in June and July. Seriously. Next Saturday is the big Deadline release party at Borderlands. The Saturday after, I'll be at Borderlands again, this time as Seanan instead of Mira, to do a joint event with my darling Chaz in his guise as Daniel Fox. Then it's off to Minnesota for Convergence (and Izzy's ice cream), followed by appearing at SF in SF as Mira, and finally, San Diego! My annual pilgrimage to Geek Prom is upon us, and this year I get my Amy AND my Vixy AND a convention-exclusive Monster High doll. Truly, the world is my mollusk.

Anyway, check my website for event details, and remember that even if you can't make any of these events in person, Borderlands takes internet and phone orders for signed and personalized books. They're pretty awesome that way.

Deadline.
Holy cheese, it's a book. Like, on shelves. And people are buying it, and people are reading it, and people are liking it so far. Please, if you've bought it and read it and want to talk about it, stick to the Deadline open thread? I don't want people to be afraid to read comments on other posts because there might be lurking spoilers. Thank you so much, to everyone, for everything. You've been totally amazing.

Cats.
Blue. Fluffy. Pissed off over my recent absence, and demanding I make it up to them with snuggles and scritches. I am surprisingly unbothered by their demands, and have given in wholeheartedly.

X-Men: First Class.
Opens this weekend, and anyone standing between me and the ticket booth come Saturday had better be ready for some Xavier's alumni whup-ass to be aimed their way. I need my mutants. They're an important part of a balanced breakfast. Also, the reviews have been amazing so far, which means that maybe this will be a new franchise, instead of a prequel. Look, a girl can dream, okay?

Monster High.
I WANT THE NEW DOLLS ALREADY.

...and that's it for me, for the moment. What've you got?

The countdown sort of scrambled my ability to stay afloat in the link soup over here, and so, in an effort to stop myself from drowning, I present Deadline reviews and interviews. Because otherwise, you may never find my body.

Our friends at BookBanter have posted a conveniently spoiler-tagged for Feed review of Deadline, and say, "Once again Grant has achieved the incredible with a long story of over six hundred pages that will have you wide eyed and mouth wateringly hooked from the very first to the very last. Middle books in trilogies are often weak compared to the strong start and captivating end, but Deadline is a worthy next installment that is as good as Feed in many ways, making it feel more like a continuation of the same book." Also, I am compared to Stephen King and Dean Koontz, making this THE BEST REVIEW EVER.

Keeping up our BookBanter party, I did an interview for them as Mira Grant, and we discuss lots of lovely things, including what Seanan and Mira have in common, what Mira does for fun, and what's coming up next. You should give it a read! Plus you can win a book if you do.

Kind of an interview and kind of not: I did another Big Idea piece for John Scalzi's Whatever, this time all about the concepts and science behind Deadline. It was fun and challenging to write, and you should definitely stop by and see what drove me to another 150,000 words of sheer insanity.

My Bookish Ways has posted an excellent review of Deadline, and says, "Sometimes it's hard to follow up such amazing work, and sometimes second novels in a series suffer a bit. Not Deadline. It's just as good as Feed, and you'll find yourself plowing through this 600+ page novel in no time. I missed quite a bit of sleep finishing this one up. Was it worth it? Totally." I am the cause of insomnia!

Finally (for now), Pen and Ink, Camera and Keyboard has posted a nice review of Deadline, and says, "Deadline is a great book, it's well written and genuinely enthralling." Also: "The build up at first feels off with a climatic introduction and action packed first chapters, only for everything to simmer down. That's until you realize that something big is building and when you finally hit the last act, well the terrible realization of the sheer scope is palpable. There's a section where Shaun and co are driving home and it's like the eye of a storm...the eerie silence before the shit hits the fan."

I cause insomnia AND terrible realizations! I win!

And that's all for the moment. I will now go sleep the sleep of the just and exhausted.

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.

Once upon a time there was a girl who...no. Wait.

That isn't how this goes.

Once upon a time there were a great many girls, and they did and were and knew and learned and loved and lost a great many things. Some of them were good girls and some of them were bad girls, some of them were nice girls and some of them were naughty girls, but most of them were a little bit of each kind of girl, beautiful patchwork people. Some of them were princesses and some of them were pirates. They were charmaids and scullery maids, ladies maids and goosegirls. They were ladies of good standing. They had dangerous reputations. They were fox girls and phoenix girls, autumn girls and summer girls, coyote girls and mermaid girls and every combination and everything in-between, and they were wonderful.

Some of those girls loved each other and some of those girls lost each other and some of those girls gave up on each other and some of those girls never found anyone at all. Some of them were loved and some of them were lonely. Some of them were happy on their own.

But sometimes, sometimes...sometimes, one of those girls would be walking in the wood, or on the beach, or in the pumpkin patch, or through the garden, and she would see someone up ahead, through the trees, through the seagrass, through the roses—someone who looked familiar, even though they'd never met before. And she would go running, that girl, our girl, with her bare feet in the sand or her high heeled slippers on the palace floor, running like her life depended on it. Sometimes the other girl would hear her coming, would stop, and turn, and wait. And when they met, they would look at each other, and ask a question. Always the same question, even if they didn't realize that they were asking it.

Now, do not think that they always loved each other. Some of them were too much alike, and hated each other on sight, or were even more alike than that, and cleaved together like two petals on a primrose. Some of them were indifferent to each other, too different to repel, too similar to attract. Many went their separate ways. But still, they asked their questions first, and had their answers.

"What took you so long?"

I am an autumn girl. I am a coyote girl. I am a pumpkin girl. I love crow girls and summer girls and fox girls and phoenix girls, mermaid girls and autumn girls and wild girls and lost girls, ocean girls and desert girls and fiddler girls and girls who sing like mockingbirds and laugh like falling leaves. I love my sailing ship girls who leave, and my lighthouse girls who stand to guide them home. And every time I have met one of them, one of my girls, I have asked her a question, even if I didn't know that I was asking it, and I have given her an answer, even if I didn't know that it was given.

"What took you so long?"
"I'm here now."

Love the ones you love. Count your crows and your comets and your lucky coins.

Live your fairy tale today.

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?

Remember how back in March of this year, I had a short story in an anthology called Tales from the Ur-Bar? It was pretty awesome. I had a great time, and the editors were fabulous to work with, and so when Josh and Patricia (see re: the editors) asked me if I thought I might want to do it again, I was delighted. I love anthologies, I love an excuse to write short fiction, and I love working with people who have already proven themselves to be rockin' cool. And so I wrote them a story, and now...

"We Will Not Be Undersold" has been, well, sold to the anthology The Modern Fae's Guide to Surviving Humanity, edited by Josh Palmatier and and Patricia Bray. The anthology will be coming out in March of 2012, which seems at once very far in the future, and far, far too soon for my taste. It involves a big box super-store, true love, picnic tables, M&Ms, and plastic.

This is most definitely not a Toby universe short story; it contains fae creatures, but they're not playing by the rules of Toby's world, and I bet none of them could take her in a fair fight. At the same time, they're strange and quirky and were a huge amount of fun for me to write, and I really, really enjoyed the process of writing their story. (Story, singular. Unlike Mina Norton or the Fighting Pumpkins, these folks are not turning into a series. Dammit. I absolutely refuse.)

I'll post again as we approach the time when the book will become a sweet reality, rather than a future milestone, but for right now, remember, shop smart. Shop Undermart. We will not be undersold!

1. It is now twenty-one days to Deadline. I am scrambling to catch up on "Countdown" (the series of little in-universe snapshots has a name!), and writing ahead so as not to get caught flat-footed by my next convention adventure. I'm not certain I'll have internet while at Wiscon, so the last few pieces may be posted a little late, but they will be posted.

2. The cats responded to my going to Leprecon by magically acquiring giant felted mats which should have taken them well over a week to create. Last night's brushing adventure was a lot of fun for everyone involved, let me tell you what. Also, ow. Also, I am so saying "screw this noise" when I get home from BEA/Wiscon, and just taking the pair of them straight to the professional groomer for trimming and mat removal. I am not going through that again if I don't have to.

3. My whole house is clean! Why is my whole house clean? Because my mother is awesome! Why is my mother awesome? Because she cleaned my house! The first rule of tautology club is the first rule of tautology club.

4. I get a Cat this weekend! Cat Valente is using my house as her base of operations during the San Francisco Bay Area branch of her tour for The Girl Who Circumnavigated Fairyland in a Ship of Her Own Making. She'll be at our best-beloved Borderlands Books this Saturday; there will be cupcakes, and carousing, and all the usual wonderful things. You should totally come.

5. There will be another, probably photo-heavy post about this later, but...I got an Evangeline Ghastly doll! More precisely, I got two; the one I bought, and one that mysteriously appeared on my doorstep in a big-ass box from Wilde Imagination. My squealing, it was vast. Of course, now I have entered the dark realm of the ball-jointed doll, from which there is no returning. Which leads us to...

6. I am allowed to do one fiscally silly thing every time I do certain things, career-wise. As I have done a certain thing (more on this later), I get to be silly, and I've decided that this time, for silly, I want a resin Evangeline doll. They fit more of the clothes, and can wear all the shoes. Specifically, I want the Cemetery Wedding Evangeline, since she has the best face. If you know anyone who might be selling part of a doll collection, please let me know?

7. The new season of Doctor Who continues to delight me.

8. I have finished the Tybalt short! "Rat-Catcher" is 10,000 words long, and has been officially submitted to the market it was written for. If they buy it, I'll announce when and where it will be appearing. If they don't, I'll start looking for something else to do with a story full of Cait Sidhe. Whatever I do, it will probably need to involve gooshy food.

9. Zombies are love.

10. I am hammered enough right now that my response time is slow, and the amnesty on replying to comments on the "Countdown" posts endures. I'll still answer comments on all other posts; it may just take me a little while. Thank you for being understanding.

Hello, everybody, and welcome to my journal. I'm pretty sure you know who I am, my name being in the URL and all, but just in case, I'm Seanan McGuire (also known as Mira Grant), and you're probably not on Candid Camera. This post exists to answer a few of the questions I get asked on a semi-hemi-demi-regular basis. It may look familiar; that's because it gets updated and re-posted roughly every two months, to let folks who've just wandered in know how things work around here. Also, sometimes I change the questions. Because I can.

If you've read this before, feel free to skip, although there may be interesting new things to discover and know beyond the cut.

Anyway, here you go:

( This way lies a lot of information you may or may not need about the person whose LJ you may or may not be reading right at this moment. Also, I may or may not be the King of Rain, which may or may not explain why it's drizzling right now. Essentially, this is Schrodinger's cut-tag.Collapse )

Am I behind on my review roundups? Yes. Yes, I am. Am I about to drown in links? Yes. Yes, I am. So here. Reviews for you!

First up for this batch, Paul Goat Allen wrote one of the most beautiful explanations of the Toby Daye books I've ever seen over the Barnes & Noble Book Club, and said, "For me, these novels are ultimately about Toby's inner quest—her search to find herself, her place in the world, not some soul mate or better half who will 'complete' her. It’s delicious existential speculation wrapped up in fantastical candy-coated shell. That's why this unique and addictively readable saga resonates so powerfully with me—I identify with Toby as the proverbial outsider, the seeker, the misunderstood hero."

Um. Wow.

The Discriminating Fangirl posted a lovely review of Late Eclipses, and says, "I think this is my favorite book in the series so far. Everything that I loved about the first three books came together in a perfect storm of awesomeness in Late Eclipses. The plot is smooth, engrossing, and terribly exciting." Also: "If you’re already a fan of the Toby Daye series, Late Eclipses definitely won’t disappoint. If you’re a newbie looking for some great, original urban fantasy, get thee to a bookstore and pick up this series. You won’t be disappointed." Victory!

Charlaine Harris listed Late Eclipses as one of her books of the week, and says, "Seanan McGuire is another of my favorites, and Late Eclipses continues her saga of the life of October Daye, a true and acknowledged hero in the world of the fae." Also: "It's impossible not to like Toby." Could someone tell the Queen of the Mists that? It would make book six ever so much easier to write.

Angela over at The Outhouse has posted a review of Late Eclipses, and says, "For the past three books, I cringed at the 1st person narrative that gave little details painstakingly slow about Toby’s life. For the past three books I wanted to grab October by the shirt and ask her why won’t she push farther into her odd standings with Tybalt. For the last three books, I nearly cried when Toby would just bend over and take it from the Fae court. And now here is the fourth fantastic book and it has been worth every little bit of frustrating agony! Seanan McGuire is a sneaky woman, knowing how to play her audience like a fiddle book by delicious book; never giving too much, but making you want a whole of a lot more." I'm a fiddler! Amy would be so proud.

Finally, for right now, it's our requisite LJ review, from ambermoon, who has posted a lovely review of Late Eclipses. She says, "Each novel passes the Bechdel Test with flying colors, and I love the heroine. Toby (short for October) is smart, funny, sarcastic, and believable. She's capable without being either 'too good at everything' or unwilling to accept help. She gets literally carried several times, but I never felt her agency was reduced. She has maternal aspects without that being the source of her strength or relegating her to a caretaker role. She can sometimes be a jerk, and sometimes seems almost deliberately obtuse about personal matters, and she's extremely stubborn. The books are first-person narration so Toby carries all the action, and she doesn't disappoint." Yay!

That's all for today. Next up, Deadline reviews! Yay!

I am...honored and delighted and a little stunned to announce that Feed, written under the name "Mira Grant," has been nominated for the 2011 Hugo Award for Best Novel. The award will be given this August, at Renovation, the World Science Fiction Convention to be held in Reno, Nevada.

Yeah.

I've been nominated for a Hugo.

And yeah, I cried.

This is such an honor. This is...this is one of those things I never expected, that I get to have for the rest of my life. "I was nominated for a Hugo Award." Winning would be awesome, but in a way, it's icing on an already delicious cake, because I was nominated. Out of everything published in 2010, enough people said "Feed was the best" that I made the ballot. Me, and four other people, out of all the books there were.

I am honored and stunned and delighted and terrified, and it's something I've dreamed of literally since I found out Ray Bradbury had a Hugo Award, so I must have been, like, eight. And now my name is on that ballot.

When will I Rise? I don't think I could Rise any higher than I am right now.

Thank you all so much.

The 2011 BSC Review Book Tournament is over, and An Artificial Night is the winner, stomping The Strange Affair of Spring Heeled Jack by a mere 5%! Yes, it was 55/45 when the polls closed, and Mark Hodder's tale of gaslight London and the monsters therein came very close to victory. But in the end, there could be only one, and your tireless devotion to clicking little boxes meant that Toby walked away with the gold!

Also, you know. Some heads. Heads are awesome.

Thank you all for clicking, and for putting up with my random fascination with online contests. It was a lot of fun, and I deeply appreciate it. We now return you to your regularly scheduled nonsense.

For all that I argue constantly that urban fantasy is one of the oldest genres, and that those of us who write it are the descendants of Lily Fair and should be afforded the same respect as the children of her better-known sisters, Snow White and Rose Red, the fact remains that urban fantasy as we know it right now, today, is a relatively recent beast. It developed slowly, lurching and slithering its way out of the jumble of general fantasy and into its current position.

A lot of the classics* of the urban fantasy genre were published during the 1980s, and many of them fell out of print during the same time period. They were like thieves in the night, only instead of sneaking into your house and stealing all your stuff, they snuck into your head and planted ideas like seeds. Maybe they didn't germinate overnight. Maybe they took years, or decades, to begin sprouting. But they did sprout, and the flowers they grew into spread more seeds, until the genre itself began to grow.

I was too young to really appreciate what was going on during those beginning days, but I already read voraciously, and several of those strange flowers have been a part of my mental landscape for as long as I can remember. Jack of Kinrowan. War for the Oaks. Gossamer Axe.

Bordertown.

Bordertown was a modern-day Neverland, a place where the lands of humanity and the fae collided, with magic and science at continual war with one another. It was a place for teenage runaways, filled with music and madness, and there were times when I, as a pre-teen nerd girl who never felt like she really belonged anywhere, practically ached with the longing to find that magic doorway that could get me there. In Bordertown, I would find friends, and adventures, and stories, and maybe I'd get hurt, but I'd do it in a place that hurt everyone, not just the ones who didn't quite fit in. In Bordertown, I could make the rules, and break the rules, and take the rules for whatever they were worth. All I had to do was find the door.

I knew even then that Bordertown was just a story, but it was a beautiful story, and stories have power. I read every Bordertown tale I could find with the same voracious need, and when they stopped coming, I started looking further afield. When I met Ellen Kushner last year in Australia, I told her that I wrote urban fantasy because I'd come too late to write Bordertown, and the genre as it exists now was as close as I could get.

Those original books are sadly out of print now. For thirteen years, the doors to Bordertown have been closed.

The doors to Bordertown are opening again on May 23rd. Welcome to Bordertown is a gorgeous, glorious anthology of all-new stories and poems set in that magical place, written by an incredible assortment of authors, and because the authors and editors are clever, you don't need to know anything but what I've told you here to appreciate it. Bordertown is where the magic is. Bordertown is where the music is. Bordertown lives.

In the meanwhile, you can read three of the original stories on the website; you can begin exploring this world; you can fall in love the way I did when I first heard the city's name, and the way I did again when I went to Boston and was handed an advance copy of the new map. Bordertown lives.

Now step into the story and find out why so many of us have loved this world so fiercely, so cleanly, and for so very, very long.

Bordertown lives.

I missed it so much.

(*Defining "classics" as "things without which the genre would not occupy the shape it occupies today," not based on popularity or staying power or even, in some cases, quality.)

Today marks the launch of the Orbit Short Fiction Program, through which they will be bringing you delicious nuggets of juicy fiction goodness from Orbit authors. Including, naturally, one miss Mira Grant.

In fact, they have a new Mira Grant story available right now.

"Apocalypse Scenario #683: The Box" is a heartwarming story about high school friends who still see each other every week to play a game that they love very much. Namely, the Apocalypse Game, wherein they end the world with gleeful abandon. But sadly, someone may be taking the game a little more seriously than was originally intended...

"Apocalypse Scenario," and all other stories in the Orbit Short Fiction Program, are available on Amazon, Barnes and Noble, Diesel Ebooks, and Booksonboard.com. Follow the link to either the landing page for the program or the story itself to get the links.

Enjoy the end of the world.

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.

The ballot for the 2010 Shirley Jackson Award has been announced. Shirley Jackson is one of those writers I've admired since before I really fully understood that the people whose names were on the front of books had written them, rather than nurturing them in strange gardens, where they were watered with blood and cream, and bloomed only under the light of the full moon. Although maybe, that's what writers really do, and when we talk about "writing," we really mean "plundering the hearts of our neighbors for seeds." Who knows?

Shirley Jackson wrote "The Lottery," and The Haunting of Hill House, which has scared the crap out of me on a regular basis since I was seven. The Shirley Jackson Awards were established with the approval of her estate, to honor "outstanding achievement in the literature of psychological suspense, horror, and the dark fantastic."

This year, Feed is on the ballot.

To quote the website, the award is "voted upon by a jury of professional writers, editors, critics, and academics, with input from a Board of Advisors." It's a jury of my peers, and whether I'm found guilty or not, it is truly an honor to be brought before them. I'll be really honest here: I never expected this. I don't think of myself as writing the kind of books that get nominated for awards, no matter how much I love them. My garden bears strange fruit, but not the kind that takes the ribbon at the County Fair.

But there I am. On a ballot with Peter Straub and Robert Jackson Bennett and Neil Gaiman and Michelle Paver...and it's amazing.

It's just amazing.

Oh, happy day! I am now chortling in my joy, because I have an AWESOME ANNOUNCEMENT to share with everybody: Conjure Oils is now offering sampler pips of the current Toby Daye perfume line. There are TWENTY-ONE scents available, including "Toby Daye" (cut grass and copper), "April O'Leary" (ozone and electricity), and even "January O'Leary" (ozone and pine). These things knock my socks off. Seriously, they are all amazing, and so, so perfect.

Since not everyone wants to gamble on a 5ml bottle of a perfume they haven't smelled before, Conjure Oils is now allowing orders of seven "pips," little 1/32 oz. sampler vials that let you play with a perfume without taking the full risk. This is a truly awesome thing, and it shows a lot of faith in the line as a whole. Hooray!

I am so excited. And I smell like May Daye.

I am sick even unto death, and so I am not really capable of the kind of coherent and thoughtful blogging that I try to provide. Instead, I am going to provide something truly awesome: a starred Publishers Weekly review of Deadline. Behold:

( Cut for FEED spoilers!Collapse )

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?

The CD Baby newsletter for April has gone out. They always highlight a few albums, including their titles and covers, along with "listen" links. It's a fun way to find new music, and filk albums never show up there.

Only Wicked Girls? Is their top seller for April. And they still have stock, so hopefully people will be able to listen and then order and then I will have fewer CDs sitting around waiting to be adopted.

So, um. I think this may be the first filk CD ever selected as a top seller.

Whoa.

That's all.

I am a filker.

It's an absolute statement of identity; it's been applicable for pretty much my entire life, even if I've only known what it meant since sometime in high school. I filk. I listen to filk. I love filk. It's a passionate, welcoming, supportive community of brilliant, talented, creative people, and I'm proud to call it one of my many homes.

For a long time, if you'd asked me who I wanted to grow up to be, as a lyricist, my answer would have been catsittingstill. Her melodies are delicate and complex, her lyrics are perfectly considered, and as the many people who had to listen to me wandering around singing "Annie" can testify, when her songs tell a story, it sticks with you.

All of which comes as background for why I screamed like a little girl when I found out she'd written songs about my books. Cat wrote songs about my books!!! That's like fulfilling one of the hidden win conditions of life!

The first, "Mayday," is about everyone's favorite Fetch (just ask her).

The second, "Oak and Ash and Rowan and Thorn," is a beautiful post-LE contemplation of events going all the way back to the first book (and was sung by Vixy at the book release party, for those of you who made it).

I win at life.

Squee.

I have to do this occasionally, or the file I use to store my links may actually CATCH FIRE and EXPLODE. True fact. It's been known to happen. Anyway...

Kenda over at Lurv ala Mode has posted a review of Late Eclipses, and says, "This series is an exceptional example of unique urban fantasy, with characters that grow more and more in depth with each installment. The plots for each book are twisted and complicated, enough so that interest is piqued and toe tip pressure never lessens since we’re constantly on them. The series isn’t complacent, as it ups the excitement and action and development overall with each book. And that, fellow readers, is how I like it." Yeah, that's a long pull quote, but it's an awesome review, and it waited a long time to be posted. So I'm sharing my enthusiasm.

Kristen at Fantasy Book Cafe has posted a review of Late Eclipses (and how is it that my early reviews are being linked so late this time? Uncool, blonde girl...), and says, "Late Eclipses had everything I’ve come to love about the October Daye series and then some since it exceeded my expectations. It’s a lot of fun with some very satisfying revelations and is the strongest installment in the series yet." Yay!

But what about the seeeeexy? Well, Rebecca at Dirty Sexy Books has posted a review of Late Eclipses, and says, "Is it too early to look forward to the next book in the October Daye series?" No. No, it is not.

calico_reaction provides our obligatory Livejournal review, and says, "This installment is my favorite to date, horribly difficult to put down. There's so many revelations in this book that really cast Toby and her purpose in a new light, and the cast is just delightful. I can't say more without gushing, so I'll shut up, and say that if you're an urban fantasy fan and you haven't at least read up to book three, An Artificial Night, you're missing out. And if you're already a fan, you definitely don't want to miss this one." Hooray! No, like, seriously, hooray.

Finally for this batch, SFRevu Review has posted a review of Late Eclipses, and says, "A great installment in a series that is becoming a must-read, Late Eclipses will satisfy even the most demanding urban fantasy reader."

On that short, sweet note, I conclude this review roundup and return to my word count for the evening. Catch you soon!

UPDATE: I will not be appearing in this anthology, and this is why.

I am pleased to announce the sale of "The Prince is Right" to the anthology Wicked Pretty Things [Amazon]|[Mysterious Galaxy], a YA collection of "dark fairy romance" to be published on August 2nd, 2011.

Questions I have been asked already:

Is your story set in the Tobyverse?

No. "The Prince is Right" is set in an entirely new fae-centric world, one that plays around with my fondness for seasonal monarchies and John Hughes movies. Salem Lyons must find the Harvest King and be crowned the new Harvest Queen, or everything she loves will pay the price. But what if she doesn't want the job?

Is your story a dark fairy romance?

It's a fairy romance that takes place almost entirely at night, which makes it dark. That's my story, and I'm sticking to it. I, um, sort of missed the whole "dark = grim" memo, and wrote a classic 1980s teen romance, complete with Molly Ringwald jokes and buckets of John Hughes references. Also, one of my central characters spends about half her time as a hairless cat. So the grim is not so present in this particular tale.

I am super-excited about this book, where I get to appear alongside authors whose work I respect and admire, like Rachel Caine, Tera Lynn Childs, and Lisa Mantchev. This is the first time Rachel (who is awesome) and I have been in a book together, and that's pretty much cause for celebration right there! Also, the cover is gorgeous.

Yay! Wicked Pretty Things!

I am asked, with reasonable frequency these days, "Which do you recommend getting first, an agent or a book contract?" Because I, like everyone else, speak only from a place of my own experiences, I always answer, "An agent. They'll know what the hell they're doing."

Every aspiring author I've ever met has wanted an agent like a little girl wants a pony (in my case, like a little girl wants a bat-winged vampire pony that can fly and also devour the kids who liked to beat me up on the playground). Having an agent is like having a Loch Ness Monster of your very own, one that you can saddle up and use to shock and amaze your enemies as you ride it into glorious battle against Godzilla and the Easter Bunny. Having an agent will transform your life from an abyss of despair into a happy cartoon wonderland full of sunshine and zombie puppies. And sure, we understand that might not be quite true, but we all just know that the right agent will make everything okay, forever.

For a long time, I thought that the right agent for me didn't exist. That getting an agent would be sort of like getting a job: necessary, important, even pleasant at times, but still going to require me to swear less, brush my hair more, and wear uncomfortable shoes. I was willing to do these things, if I had to, but in my heart, I still wanted a bat-winged vampire pony to negotiate my contracts and strike down my enemies in my name. Because I am a simple soul.

Almost four years ago now, a friend of mine decided to introduce me a friend of hers, one who happened to be a working literary agent, looking for clients. The Agent and I exchanged some emails, going slow, navigating the wilds of acquaintance and understanding long before we reached the point where representation would become an option. It was a courtship, rather than a barroom hookup, and I am incredibly grateful for that, because anybody who's met me knows that my full attention can be an exhausting thing. She gets my full attention a lot.

Three years ago today, she asked if I wanted her to represent me. If I'd said "Yes!" any faster, I would have violated temporal causality.

The past three years have been amazing. They have been filled with firsts, seconds, thirds, and hundreds of wonderful, confusing, incredible things, and The Agent has been there every step along the way to explain, encourage, and assist. I call her my personal superhero for a reason—that's exactly what she is. Books on writing will tell you that the best thing a working writer can have is a good agent, and they're right, but what they won't tell you is that it's even better to have a good agent who understand you, understands the way you work, and is willing to see what you can do together.

So here's a happy, happy anniversary to my personal superhero, to the woman who helps me understand the business side of my chosen career, and to the only person ever to respond to my description of The Worst Book I've Ever Read by asking me to send it to them. Happy anniversary. Let's have ten more of these.

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!

This is a rare thing which I am sharing with you; a moment of peace and tranquility the likes of which happens only for a few seconds at a time, and even then, only when the moon is right, and the tide is low, and the world holds its breath.

Behold:



That's Alice closest to camera, with Thomas in the middle, and Lilly on the end. As is always the case with me, the picture is a few weeks old at this point; Thomas is almost twice as big now as he was when this picture was taken (I think shortly after Arisia).

I hope that all is well in your world, and that something makes you as happy as these three balls of vicious blue fluff make me.

Today is the official release date for Whedonistas: A Celebration of the Worlds of Joss Whedon by the Women Who Love Them. No, we don't expect you to use the book's whole name every day. That's just for company. You can call it Whedonistas when it's at home.

This is a book of essays about the many and varied works of Whedon, from Buffy to Dollhouse. I somehow managed to resist the burning urge to write about his work on the X-Men* in both movie and comic form, and wrote instead about how Buffy: the Vampire Slayer shaped my identity as both a fan and a creator of my own work. When the apocalypse comes, beep me.

I am, naturally, biased in favor of this book, which contains some awesome essays by some awesome women, many of whom are friends of mine. So here's a review written by an objective third party, which should hopefully sell you on the sheer awesome of this book better than I, who am biased, could ever manage. But if you buy this book, angels will sing, pixies will get their wings, and my cats will feast on sweet, sweet tuna. I'm just saying.

Or you could always win this book. My beloved catvalente is having an awesome book giveaway, for Whedonistas AND her upcoming totally rockin' books Deathless and The Girl Who Circumnavigated Fairyland... Go forth! Enter! Read the instructions carefully before entering, because they are specific and also important. There could be ice weasels in your future if you don't read the instructions. Again, just saying.

Whedonistas! Happy birthday, awesome book of awesome!

(*Let's be realistic here: I was able to resist solely because I was already planning to write about the relationship between Scott Summers and Emma Frost, and why Jean Gray needs to stay dead, for Chicks Dig Comics. I am a blonde with very basic needs.)

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.

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!

Let's go in reverse order, shall we? Because sometimes linearity just doesn't cut it. Anyway, the annual Locus Magazine poll for the best speculative fiction has been posted, covering those items published during 2010. Many excellent things are on the list already, and there are write-in slots for excellent things which you feel should have been included there, but weren't. The poll is open until April 15th, and everyone can vote, although votes cast by actual subscribers count for double. (This is one reason, among many, that it is awesome to have a Locus subscription.) Go, take a look, and help paint an accurate picture of what people loved about the speculative fiction of 2010!

I recently did an interview with the charming Katie Babs, who has posted our conversation for everyone to see. Being more sophisticated about these things than l'il ol' me, she even included graphics and other such awesome bells and whistles. It was a fun interview, with good questions, and I highly recommend taking a peek, if only so she'll feel that her site traffic justifies having me back someday!

Why, no. I do not have any pride. Why do you ask?

The cats continue healthy. Alice is a bit heavier than I want her to be, since recovering from her illness included a lot of gooshy food and spoiling, so we're trying to feed lightly for the moment. This might work better if a) Thomas weren't a growing boy, b) Lilly were more willing to be pushy about her food, and c) Alice didn't flop in the middle of the floor wailing about how she's starving to death and I am the WORST MONKEY EVER. Although, to be fair, Alice's flopping would be more believable if she didn't shake the floor when she did it. Yes, yes, you're starving, my little tauntaun. And next time there's a cold snap, I am going to crawl inside you to keep myself warm.

Thomas is growing at a truly staggering rate; it's like he's taken Alice's size as a personal challenge, and is determined to beat her before the next time he sees Betsy (I always assume my cats are trying to impress their breeder with their spectacular awesomeness). He's still the sweetest thing on four feet, which is good, since otherwise, I would be in trouble. He's very smart, and very curious. He's also stubborn as hell. Last night, he was on my lap, trying to play with the popcorn I was eating, so every time he reached for a piece, I would flick his paw. A normal cat would have grown annoyed and stalked off, furious at such callous treatment. Thomas started flicking me back. I love my Maine Coons.

I also love my Siamese. Lilly remains the lickingest cat in the entire known universe, as the patch of skin she licked off the inside my elbow last night while I slept will cheerfully attest. She's a little daunted by suddenly being the smallest cat in the house, but she's dignified enough (in all regards except for the licking) to hold her own against the fluffy tide.

And now...toys. As you may know, I love toys. My bedroom is like a terrifying cross between a set built for the Halloweentown movies and a toy store. I have well over a hundred My Little Ponies (and am collecting more every day), the entire current Monster High toy line, and a bunch of random assorted dolls, action figures, and weird things, including an anime-style Emma Frost, a hungry flesh-eating wasp-woman, and the Impala from Supernatural. It's a fun room to sleep in sometimes.

Anyway, yesterday, I got home to find a box on my porch. And inside that box...PONIES. Lots and lots of lovely Ponies, including Baby Racer (a yellow Baby Brother Pony with blue hair and a race car on his rump) and Applejack and some beautifully ringletted Candy Cane Ponies...

And Oakly. The My Little Pony Moose. Who has been on my Top 10 Wish List for ages. And now? NOW SHE IS MINE.

It's a good week to be a Pony geek.

Tara is making me a Barbie version of Alice Price-Healy, which has given me an excuse to go shopping for lots and lots of 1/6th scale weapons on eBay. This is incredibly soothing. It's shopping with purpose, and that purpose will result in my having the best. Barbie. EVER. The other Barbie she made for me, Lt. Anis Bihari of the USS Rutan, is currently off-site having her uniform tailored. I expect much joy when she returns. Oh, and they just announced the second wave of the Monster High Dawn of the Dance line, which will include two of my favorite dolls (Draculaura and Ghoulia).

It's a good week to be a toy geek, period. I am a happy blonde.

It's a Wicked Girls day here in sunny California, where I've just received the confirmation that Wicked Girls is now available for order on CDBaby.com. If you missed the pre-order period, or just need another copy, this is your chance! We're probably going to sell out their available stock pretty quickly, but that's okay; they'll ask me for more, which I will dispatch promptly, and showing them the level of demand will help to set the tempo of their restock requests.

Theodora Goss has written a beautiful contemplation on what it is to be a wicked girl. People I've never met are taking this up as a rallying cry, and that warms my heart and gives me hope.

Emily Gilman has also posted her contemplations on being wicked and lovely, and not living in fear, and these are two brave, bold women I've never met, talking about what it takes to fly.

Be brave. Be true. Fly.

That's all I'll ever ask of you.

ETA: CDBaby now says "out of stock," but will take requests anyway. That's fine. Go ahead and place your order now, and I should have a restock request from them by Monday, at which point they'll have more CDs, and I'll have less.

As of today, we are less than a month (twenty-nine days) out from the release of Late Eclipses. Since February is so short, I'm kicking off the pre-release month of fun now, and beating the rush. Also, that might do a little to preserve my sanity, and I'm fond of my sanity. It's my cuddly mental buddy.

To start our pre-release month right, here's an exciting announcement: Conjure Oils has released the rest of the current Toby Daye perfume line. There are now TWENTY-ONE scents available, including "Toby Daye" (cut grass and copper), "April O'Leary" (ozone and electricity), and even "January O'Leary" (ozone and pine). I don't have my sample packs of the new scents yet, but if they're half as awesome as the original seven, they're going to knock your socks off.

The Toby perfumes are available only in the 5ml bottles, but if people express interest in doing a decant circle, I will open a space in my website forums for you to set things up. (I can't run it myself, I can enable it for all of you.) These are open-ended, so there's no need to rush right out, act now, etc., and they make an awesome gift for the BPAL-lover in your life. Also, if we collectively buy enough of these, maybe she'll make more.

I live a fairy tale life, I swear. And I wouldn't want it any other way.

I appear to have accidentally set myself a "get a piece of short fiction published every month of the year" goal in 2011, with short stories confirmed for January, February, March, and now April. That pretty much takes us through my current backlog, although I have a few possibilities for May and June, but, being me, I still find it hysterical. As for what brought this on...

"Riddles," my story of what really happened when mankind met the Sphinx, has been purchased by Jennifer Brozek for inclusion in the anthology Human Tales, coming out in April from Dark Quest Books. This actually happened a little while ago, but I kept waiting to find out the publication date, and then I got distracted, and look, you should have figured out by now that sometimes, I have the attention span of a mayfly. A mayfly which is ALREADY DEAD.

"Riddles" is a rare piece for me, in that it's just fantasy, not urban in the slightest. Even my historical fantasy, like "Alchemy of Alcohol" (coming out in March, in Tales From the Ur-Bar), tends to take place in an urban environment. So getting to play with a world where there were no sidewalks, really kind of awesome!

I'm super-pleased with the story, and I'm super-pleased to have sold it, and I can't wait to see what else will be contained in the book. I'll let you all know when you can get a copy of your very own.

And now I want to go to Borderlands, so I can hug the Sphynx kitties. Hee.

I am home from Georgia and Massachusetts! I am no longer stranded in the snowy South or New England! This is awesome. Also awesome: the traditional posting of the set list from my most recent filk convention, accompanied with lyric links and helpful notations. My backing band was a little unusual, since it was assembled at the Absolute Last Minute, with lots of awesome people stepping up to make sure that my guest of honor concert wasn't a total disaster. Big, big thanks to Dr. Mary Crowell, Amy McNally, Bill and Brenda Sutton, Dave Rood, and Jodi Krangle, for saving my bacon.

I am so grateful to have been GaFilk's Guest of Honor. It was, to repeat myself a bit, a true honor, and I couldn't have had a better time. The GaFilk set list, with arrangement* notes, was as follows:

1. "The Sealskin and the Story and the Sky." (Seanan McGuire, vocals; Bill Sutton, guitar; Brenda Sutton, bodhran; Dave Rood, bass; Dr. Mary Crowell, piano; Amy McNally, fiddle.)
2. "Counting Crows." (Seanan, vocals; Bill, guitar; Brenda, bodhran; Dave, bass; Mary, piano; Amy, fiddle.)
3. "Mama Said." (Seanan, vocals; Bill, guitar; Brenda, coconut shells; Dave, bass; Mary, piano; Amy, fiddle.)
4. "Mother of the Crows." (Seanan, vocals; Mary, piano; Amy, fiddle.)
5. "Still Catch the Tide" (Talis Kimberley cover). (Seanan, vocals; Jodi Krangle, backing vocals; Bill, guitar; Brenda, bodhran; Dave, bass; Mary, piano; Amy, fiddle.)
6. "The Ghost of Lilly Kane." (Seanan, vocals; Mary, piano; Amy, fiddle.)
7. "Dear Gina." (Seanan, Katie vocals; Mary, piano, creepy demon vocals; Amy, fiddle.)
8. "Silent Hill." (Seanan, vocals; Mary, piano.)
9. "Dare to Dream." (Seanan, vocals; Bill, guitar; Brenda, bodhran; Dave, bass; Mary, piano; Amy, fiddle.)
10. "Evil Laugh." (Seanan, vocals; Bill, guitar; Brenda, dinosaur shaker; Dave, bass; Mary, piano; Amy, Merav, backing vocals.)
11. "Burn It Down" (Vixy & Tony cover). (Seanan, vocals; Bill, guitar; Brenda, bodhran; Dave, bass; Mary, piano; Amy, fiddle.)
12. "Wicked Girls Saving Ourselves." (Seanan, Jodi, vocals; Bill, guitar; Brenda, bodhran; Dave, bass; Mary, piano; Amy, fiddle.)
13. "My Story Is Not Done." (Seanan, vocals; Bill, guitar; Brenda, bodhran; Dave, bass; Mary, piano; Amy, fiddle.)

The bridge for "Wicked Girls" was...

"Now Brenda beats bodhrans, and Vixy's run off with the fairies,
And Deborah will pour you red wine pressed from sweet poisoned berries.
Autumn signs secrets, and Amy plays tricks,
While Sunnie calls music from wires and sticks,
And the rules that we live by are simple and clear..."

As always: "Counting Crows," "Mama Said," "Mother of the Crows," "The Ghost of Lilly Kane," "My Story Is Not Done," and "Wicked Girls Saving Ourselves" are on Wicked Girls. "Evil Laugh," and "Still Catch the Tide" are on Stars Fall Home (out of print). "Dear Gina" and "Silent Hill" are on Red Roses and Dead Things.

Again, I am so very grateful to the GaFilk concom for having me. I had a wonderful time, and I can't wait to go back.

(*Dave Rood was actually moving around behind me quite a lot, so if I accidentally left him off something, or added him to something incorrectly, please let me know. Assuming you know. Which you may not.)

There's something magical about airport departure lounges. They're these strange, impossible liminal spaces, where the world is infinite just because it's so limited. I spend a lot of time in them these days, what with the conventions and the work and everything else. The TSA at San Francisco is starting to know me by name.

I am heading home from Boston, where I just spent a wonderful, terrible, magical, mundane, perfect, flawed, absolutely incredible weekend as a Special Guest of Arisia 2010. The convention was warm and welcoming and filled with people who hugged me and were happy I was there. I had a terrible allergic reaction Sunday morning and spent most of the day sick even unto death. I sat on a stage with Cat and talked about gulper eels and Lord Byron's penis. I tried to make the hotel internet work, to mixed results. I curled up in a warm bed with two of my favorite people sitting nearby, and watched great television. I wandered around unfed and confused.

I had a fantastic convention. I am glad to know that someday, I will go back there. I am so very glad to be going home. And that, really, is the convention experience. You go to a strange place, you enter the airport departure lounge of your soul, and you do your best to fall in love with the people you meet there. And then you all get on planes and go home to your separate places, and you wonder whether you'll ever fly that route again.

My bags are packed. I'm ready to go. The city streets are filled with snow. I hate to wake you up to say goodbye...

But I will. And soon, Great Pumpkin willing, I'll say hello.

Thank you for everything.

The "Best of 2010" lists have continued to come in, and I'm totally amazed and delighted to find that I keep appearing on them. Who'd have thought, right? First, the big one:

FEED won the 2010 Goodreads Choice Award for Best Science Fiction Book!

Oh my sweet pumpkin and pie, you guys, I won! I mean...holy cats!!! This is totally exciting, and totally amazing, and I am so overjoyed. I'm going to see about getting some new wallpapers up, to celebrate.

Moving on to the next item on my list, I actually wrote two of Bookbanter's top fifteen books of 2010, with Feed coming in at #1, and An Artificial Night coming in at #9. Where's the love? There's the love. Oooooh, yeah.

Oh, and also? Both Feed and An Artificial Night appear in the 2010 Powell's Books Staff Picks, which is pretty much entirely bad-ass and amazing and I am so totally over-the-moon.

Is this a mostly content-free post? Yes, this is, although, you know, lots of squealing and delight on my part. But I am so jet-lagged from my attempts to escape from the snowy wilds of Georgia (not a sentence I have many occasions to use) that this is about all I'm capable of. More actual substance later. For now, please accept this sizzle in place of steak.

At least it's pretty sizzle, right? So pretty...

Best of!

It's my birthday! Today, I am thirty-three years old. In fun math facts, thirty-three is the atomic number of arsenic, the recorded number of miracles performed by Jesus Christ (I wonder if that includes exploding the snakes?), and the largest positive integer that cannot be expressed as a sum of different triangular numbers. It's also the number of vertebrae in the human spine. So it's creepy, miraculous, and poisonously delicious. What a great number!

I've always liked my birthday in terms of time of year (winter) and numbers involved (1/5/78). I have always disliked my birthday in terms of where it falls on the modern calendar, since being born right after Christmas is a really good way to wind up annually rooked for parties and presents. This was a big issue for me when I was a kid. All the other kids got to bring in cupcakes and goody bags! I got to bring...the end of Winter Vacation. Um. Sorry about that, guys. I didn't mean to be the school year's personal seasonal monarch.

As I've gotten older, this has mattered less, largely because I am no longer forced to look longingly at the cupcake heaps of others. Now, I can buy my own damn cupcakes, and I don't have to share them with the rest of the class. I usually wind up sharing them anyway, because who needs to eat that many cupcakes, but still.

Today, I'm going to finish packing for GaFilk (I fly to Georgia tomorrow), do my normal Wednesday errands, go out for Indian food with my mother, my sister, and Kate, and attempt to reassure my cats that I'm coming back, honest, really, I swear. At some point, I may find a way to obtain some cupcakes.

Happy birthday, me! I've survived another trip 'round the sun.

Bring on the next one.

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.)

Words: 4,014.
Total words: 14,041.
Reason for stopping: chapter four is finished at last.
Music: everyone else in the house playing Rock Band.
Cats: back in California, one hopes.

I have finished the fourth chapter of Blackout! After cooking a large dinner for everybody, making my Rock Band 3 character, processing some edits, writing two bios, recording a children's show about vegetables, and chopping up ALL THE THINGS. Basically, I am Superwoman.

I am in Seattle. Seattle is a good place to be.

Now, back to Midnight Blue-Light Special!

'Twas the night before Christmas, and all through my brain
Were bunny girls bitching, and men not quite sane,
And fairy tale murders and pandemic flu—
My friends hope my holiday dreams won't come true—

And Tara is working on graphics so fine
To help and promote that new novel of mine
(The fourth in a series that you may have read,
With Toby and Tybalt and new things to dread).

My tickets are purchased, my plans are all set,
I'm wracking my brain to guess what I'll forget,
And Vixy and Tony are waiting with glee
For the holiday gift that I'm giving them—me.

Two thousand and ten is a year nearly spent!
Oh, the things that we did, and the places we went!
I'm still with the agent—now more than two years!
She still knows I'm crazy, and yet she's still here.

Toby's first three adventures are there on the shelves,
Full of wise-cracking Cait Sidhe and put-upon elves,
And two more adventures are coming this year,
Which ought to be good for your holiday cheer.

In March, Late Eclipses, and Deadline in May
(My evil twin, Mira, says you should obey),
And then in September, there's just One Salt Sea,
To close out the year and tell us what's to be.

InCryptid and Velveteen, Babylon Archer,
And so many more are prepared for departure
At seanan_mcguire the updates are steady—
I'm keeping you posted. You'd better get ready.

The year yet to come will bring wonders galore,
And I can't start to guess at the great things in store,
So whatever you celebrate when the world's cold,
Be it secular, modern, or something quite old,

I hope that you're happy, I hope that you're warm,
I hope that you're ready to weather the storm,
And I wish you the joys that a winter provides,
All you Kings of the Summer and sweet Snow Queen brides,

And I can't wait to see what the next year will bring,
The stories we'll tell, and the songs that we'll sing.
The dead and the living will stand and rejoice!
(I beg you to rise while you still have a choice.)

The journey's been fun, and there's much more to see,
So grab your machete and come now with me,
And they'll hear us exclaim as we dash out of sight,
"Scary Christmas to all, and to all a good fright!"

I am utterly obsessed with a show called Doctor Who, and have been since I was somewhere in the neighborhood of three years old. (This is not an exaggeration. You can ask my mother.) I contributed an essay to Chicks Dig Time Lords [Amazon], a book of critical essays on being a fan of the show while also being a girl (not always easy).

So naturally, when Tor.com contacted me and asked if I wanted to be a contributor for their mad awesome "12 Doctors of Christmas" blog event, I said yes so fast it left a few heads spinning, including my own. Here, then, is the official announcement:

Tor.com's 12 Doctors of Christmas: A Holiday Extravaganza!

...okay, so many the extravaganza part was me, but seriously, how cool is this? They've got at least one person for each Doctor, and the lineup is gorgeous. To whit:

First Doctor (William Hartnell), George Mann. "Susan, history is a gift. Do not break it."
Second Doctor (Patrick Troughton), Nick Abadzis. "Be Scottish at it, Jamie. Perhaps it will go away."
Third Doctor (Jon Pertwee), Paul Cornell. "And don't wander off!"
Fourth Doctor (Tom Baker), Nicholas Whyte. "Care for a jelly baby?"
Fifth Doctor (Peter Davison), Pia Guerra. "Celery is good for you."
Sixth Doctor (Colin Baker), Josiah Rowe. "You wicked, wicked little thing."
Seventh Doctor (Sylvester McCoy), Seanan McGuire. "Come on, Ace. We've got work to do."
Eighth Doctor (Paul McGann), Steve Mollmann. "I didn't mean to."
Ninth Doctor (Christopher Eccleston), Graham Sleight. "Brilliant!"
Tenth Doctor (David Tennant), Nasty Canasta. "The last. The very last."
Eleventh Doctor (Matt Smith), Lynne Thomas and Tara O’Shea/Mark Waid. "Who's the man?...right, never saying that again."
Twelfth Doctor(s), Jason Henninger. "RESULT!"

That's going to be twelve days of pure, unadulterated awesome. None of which will make any sense at all if you don't have at least a little familiarity with the show, for which I apologize. But not too much.

I love Doctor Who. Squee!