Well. There we go. As of roughly an hour ago, I'm done with my next-to-last pass through Deadline, incorporating commentary from The Editor, a vast file of notes from Vixy, and a lot of extremely useful technical detail from Alan, aka "my new things-that-kill-people expert." All hail those who actually know what the hell they're talking about!

I still have some work to do—the nature of my revision process means I'll be getting notes from my editorial pool for a week or so, and I want to go back and add a few things here and there throughout the text—but the heavy lifting is essentially done. The most thought-intensive part that remains is writing the acknowledgments page (which I hate doing, almost as much as I hate gargling with Spaghetti-Os). It's all commas and commentary from here to Australia...and it looks like I'll be making my "turn it in by" date, allowing me to spend the trip focusing on The Brightest Fell. Total win.

The nicest thing about final-pass editorial is that it generally happens after the book has been in someone else's hands for weeks, if not months, allowing the text to "age out" and turn alien to me. I remember writing scenes, but not sentences; I remember pages, not paragraphs. So I can rip things out with impunity, having lost all emotional attachment to the words in favor of being emotionally attached to the core point of the scene. This stage can also be dangerous, as the urge to rewrite entire chapters into something better is always there. It's the Mad Science Editorial phase.

(Appropriately enough, as I write this, my iTunes is producing a run of songs that can really only be referred to as "Seanan's greatest mad science hits." Seriously, it's played three versions of "Maybe It's Crazy" in the last half hour. Apple wants me to ignite the biosphere.)

I am done with book two of the Newsflesh trilogy. And because I've met me, I can say with certainty that while I'm busting ass on The Brightest Fell, I'll also be taking the first happy steps into the world of Blackout. It's...a little sad, actually. I only get to spend one more book with these weird, wonderful, fascinating, fucked-up people. I think I'm going to have separation anxiety when I get to the end of book three.

But I'm not there yet. Right now, I'm at the end of book two. And while the final stats are not yet ready, I believe I can say with assurance that I am now a magic murder pixie with a chainsaw.

DINO DANCE PARTY!

In keeping with their great love for chart porn, Orbit (my/Mira's science fiction publisher) has posted a fabulous comparison chart of 2008's urban fantasy heroines vs. 2009's urban fantasy heroines. According to the sample set they have scientifically* assembled and presented for your viewing pleasure, stiletto heels and pouty lips are out, while sensible shoes and kicking your ass is in.

Check out the chart. Now check out this blog post by sandramcdonald, which includes a handy visual guide to many "classic" urban fantasy poses. What I find interesting is that the majority of these covers are classic-turned-cliche; they're not bad, they're just things that were very, very popular, and were consequentially overdone.

When I first sold the Toby books, a few people said to me, "You realize Toby's going to be a busty blonde with a tramp-stamp, right?" I acknowledged that I did, in fact, know this, but that I was okay with it if it would get the book out into the world. When my editor at DAW asked if I had any requests for the cover, I said I had two.

"I'd like her to have brown hair, and wear clothes."

Anything else? Nope. Just brown hair, and clothes. Toby is not the sort of girl who goes out in a miniskirt and a halter top—not unless she's under extreme duress—and she's never dyed her hair. I was incredibly lucky, and got what I asked for, along with a leather jacket, a petulant expression, and a gloomy, atmospheric backdrop. She didn't look much like an urban fantasy heroine (a few people even thought she was a boy), but she looked exactly like I wanted her to look. Now, a year later, she looks a lot like an urban fantasy heroine, because the rules have been changing. And it's wonderful!

Don't take this as "all urban fantasy covers used to be bad," because they weren't, and I really, really like a lot of them. All the elements currently in decline have their place in the genre. Toby doesn't have any tattoos...but Alice does (Alice is practically a biker gang all by herself), and so do pretty much all the lycanthropic teens in Clady's universe (since that way, your body can be identified even if you die when not in human form). Toby doesn't wear stiletto heels...but Verity does, and thanks to her specific combat style, she would be more than happy to kick your ass while she's wearing them. I just think it's fantastic that the genre has managed to expand to the point where it can include all these different types of heroine, all presented the way they should be presented, not according to some focus group-ideal that half of them don't live up to.

Evolution is awesome...and, apparently, wearing comfortable shoes.

(*In this case "scientifically" means "whatever the summer intern could get her hands on." It's a generous definition.)

I am going to Australia.

I am going to Australia, and I have been nominated for the Campbell Award.

Because I am going to Australia, and I have been nominated for the Campbell Award, I am attending the Hugos.

Because I am attending the Hugos, I needed a dress.

Originally, I was having a dress made, but time got away from us, and now this year's fabulous pumpkin patch of a dress will be next year's fabulous pumpkin patch of a dress (which gives me something to look forward to in Reno). I wound up in the unexpected, somewhat awkward position of needing to find a formal dress at basically the last minute. Oh, and did I mention that I have a wacky build and wear a size 16-18 right now? SUPER-FUN.

Thanks to a fantastic crew (Kate, HappyCat, Jeanne) and a fantastic saleswoman at the Walnut Creek Nordstrom's, we found me a dress. Floor-length, one-shoulder, teal and peacock, Grecian-cut...seriously, I put this thing on, and I am suddenly both thirty pounds lighter and thirteen feet tall. It is A DRESS OF MAGIC.

Because I have a dress, I needed shoes and jewelry.

Due to the cut of the dress, a bracelet was mandated; no necklace, which eliminates most of my jewelry collection (I'm planning to carry a Chimera Fancies pendant in my strapless bra, because I am a superstitious bunny). I found a lovely blue and silver swirl bracelet, and ordered a pair of beautiful blue glass earrings from Beckett's Etsy store. My shoes are two-inch tarnished silver heels with a sling-back.

Because I have shoes, I need a pedicure. Because I have a formal dress, I need a haircut.

Being a girl is difficult, yo. But it's all going to be worth it. My little sister (#2, the gothic Betty Page) spent yesterday working out my makeup, and Cat and I are going to have our hair done before the Hugos. I will look like a princess. A weird blue princess who may have a chainsaw somewhere under there, but still, they don't depose you for that.

I am going to Australia, where I will wear my dress. To the Hugos, where my name is on the printed material.

Wow.

That is all.

It's the middle of August, and that means it's time for another mile along the route that runs from Sparrow Hill to the Last Chance Diner; it's time to take another trip in the company of Rose Marshall, crankiest hitchhiking ghost this side of the Atlantic Ocean. We only have four more stops before we reach the end of this particular road trip, and things are getting a little darker all the time.

Issue 56 of The Edge of Propinquity is live, and with it, the eighth of the Sparrow Hill Road stories is available. "Dead Man's Curve" follows Rose as she tries to take a night off in the company of some college kids...only it turns out they're on a mission, and it's one that just might get them killed. When Rose Marshall tangles with amateur ghost-hunters, it can only end in tears.

There are a lot of stories trapped and tangled in the twilight. This is only one of them. But it's the one I have to tell.

Welcome to the ghostroads.

Item the first: I have updated my website appearances. Go, view, and learn where I'm going to be. I have confirmed appearances in Australia, New York, California, and Oregon. Which brings me to...

Item the second: I am delighted and honored to announce that I have been selected as the Friends of Filk Guest for OryCon 32. This year's theme is "the Darker Side of Fantasy," which is something I feel I can work with quite well. I'll be appearing with Vixy and Tony, which always makes me happy, and maybe I'll even have a brand new album by then! The convention will be held in Portland, Oregon, from November 12th through the 14th. I hope you can make it, if it's even remotely local to you.

Item the third: If you ever feel the need to quit your job, this is pretty much the way to do it. Style, a sense of humor, and a great way of making your point. (I do wonder what kind of reference she's going to get, but...) Just don't read the comments. The sexism can get a little scary at certain points. But the facial expressions are twenty miles beyond awesome.

Item the fourth: This is what you've all been waiting for, which is a large part of why I've been keeping you in suspense. I'd say that I was sorry, but you'd all know that I was lying through my teeth. So instead, I shall say LOOK! SHINY! Much more effective.

Icons and Wallpapers for An Artificial Night have been posted on my site.

Tara has really outdone herself with this latest batch, and I am absolutely enthralled by her graphic awesome. Some will make more sense after you've read the book, but they're all fantastic now. Go, look, take, have, and join the flailing excitement as you realize...book three is ALMOST HERE.

Gleh.

So there's this publisher, Leisure Horror, that prints, well, horror. Lots of it. At least one new paperback release a month (probably substantially more, given the size of their catalog), spanning everything from the classic movie monsters to the modern splatterpunk. I love them. They're my literary popcorn, and I devour them the way my grandmother used to devour category Harlequin romances. It gets me funny looks on the train, since if you run down the line of afternoon commuters-with-books, you'll usually get "woman with romance, woman with romance, man with science fiction with big guns on the cover, me," and Leisure's graphic designers don't believe in being stingy with the arterial spray.

Last weekend at Spocon, in the dealer's hall, I was lucky enough to find a man with an entire box of Leisure Horror that I hadn't read yet. Yes, that's right: a box. I went through it to pick out duplicates, squealing as I did about how unrelentingly, gloriously terrible some of the books looked. Brooke, who was with me, initially thought I was rating them. Then she realized I was buying them, and made the best "Oh God why have you allowed this to happen?" face I've ever seen her make. I got twenty-one brand new horror novels for twenty bucks, and he threw in the box. Total win.

(My total win only increased later in the weekend, when trektone expressed delight over my horror novel haul. Now I have someplace to dump all the ones I don't want to keep! FUCK YEAH, SEAKING!)

I have since devoured three and a half books from the haul. The first one, Snow, was an incredible reminder of why I'm not actually a very good straight horror author. See, these things come out of the snow, and they kill people. They stick their creepy snow-creature arms into peoples' backs, and drive them around like disturbing meat-suit zombies. And then they eat you. Unless you can kill them first, in which case, hey, points to you. That's it. That's all. No science, no justification, no "oh my stars and garters, the Wendigo myth was based on reality"—there are snow monsters, and they want to make you die. I loved this book. If I'd written it, it would have been twice as long, involved a lot more why-porn, and probably lost a few entrails in favor of a) the scene at the top-secret government lab where we learn about the aliens, or b) the scene at the top-secret monster-hunters' library where we learn about the folklore behind the snow-creatures. It always makes me happy when I get a reminder of why I'm not the kind of horror author I sometimes secretly wish I were.

The second book, Dwellers, was the first thing I've ever picked up from Leisure Horror that could actually be adapted into a Disney movie. It would be a sad Disney movie, sure, and it would lose a lot of, again, entrails, but it would work. Dwellers is like Harry and the Hendersons crossed with The Thing. It's sad and poignant and tragic and funny and altogether wonderful, and I really didn't expect it. Again, there's very little "why" in the book. Horror doesn't need "why." Horror needs entrails, and horror gets them, but oh, wow, is this a fabulous book.

The two I've read since then haven't been even remotely as good, which is why I'm not identifying them by name. Altogether, it's been a fantastic reminder of why I read horror, and why I'm not so good at writing it in any format longer than a short story. Why is there a monster in the closet?

Because.

Um. Um. Um. Okay. Look:

The NPR List of 100 Killer Thrillers has been released.

HOLY CRAP YOU GUYS LOOK LOOK AT #74 LOOK AT IT LOOK THAT'S MY BOOK THAT I WROTE THAT'S FEED ON A LIST PUBLISHED BY NPR HOLY CRAP.

...okay, I'm better now. Sorry about that. Except that I'm neither better nor sorry, but I am fairly convinced that I've been asleep for the last two years. If I wake up and this has all been a really detailed linear dream, I'm taking my brain out behind the woodshed. I'm just saying.

I mean, this isn't the first awesome Feed-related thing that's happened. Consider, if you will, io9's top picks for summer reading. Sure, the summer's almost over, but there's still a little warm weather left in which to enjoy a good zombie apoca—WHO AM I KIDDING WITH THE CALM RATIONALITY?! MY BOOK THAT I WROTE IS ON A LIST PUBLISHED BY NPR HOLY CRAP.

I love this book so much, and I love that my weird science fiction dystopian political thriller full of zombies is actually getting out there and infecting the world with its, well, weirdness and its virology and I am so excited I could just about scream right now. Because HOLY CRAP. That's going to be my refrain today, I swear. HOLY CRAP.

I leave you with the meme your meme could smell like, an awesome Old Spice Man-inspired "everybody is awesome" feedback meme, and I go off to gibber and giggle in a corner until I can calm down a little.

HOLY CRAP.

My concert at Spocon was just incredible, due, largely, to my amazing assortment of backing musicians. With Brooke Lunderville on banjola, Mike Briggs on guitar, Desiree on violin, and Char MacKay on backing vocals, there was no chance of failure. I am so very grateful to have been their Music Guest of Honor. As is the standing tradition around here, I now present my concert set list, including annotation and lyric links, because that's what makes it useful.

The Spocon set list, with arrangement notes, was as follows:

1. "Counting Crows." (Seanan, vocals; Mike Briggs, guitar; Brooke Lunderville, banjola; Desiree, violin; Char MacKay, backing vocals.)
2. "Modern Mystic." (Seanan, vocals; Mike, guitar; Brooke, banjola; Desiree, violin; Char, backing vocals.)
3. "Last Call." (Seanan, vocals; Mike, guitar; Brooke, banjola; Desiree, violin; Char, backing vocals.)
4. "Cartography." (Seanan, vocals; Mike, guitar; Brooke, banjola; Desiree, violin; Char, backing vocals.)
5. "Oh, Michelle." (Seanan, vocals; Mike, guitar; Brooke, banjola; Desiree, violin; Char, backing vocals.)
6. "The Black Death." (Seanan, vocals; Mike, guitar; Brooke, banjola; Desiree, violin; Char, backing vocals.)
7. "Dear Gina." (Seanan, vocals; Mike, guitar; Brooke, banjola; Desiree, violin; Char, backing vocals.)
8. "Silent Hill." (Seanan, vocals; Mike, guitar; Brooke, banjola; Desiree, violin; Char, backing vocals.)
9. "Washington Rose." (Seanan, vocals; Mike, guitar; Brooke, banjola; Desiree, violin; Char, backing vocals.)
10. "Evil Laugh." (Seanan, vocals; Mike, guitar; Brooke, banjola; Desiree, violin; Char, backing vocals.)
11. "Wicked Girls Saving Ourselves." (Seanan, vocals; Mike, guitar; Brooke, banjola; Desiree, violin; Char, backing vocals.)

The bridge for "Wicked Girls" was...

"Now Susan's a pirate, and Vixy's run off with the fairies,
And Tanya keeps careful account of the treasure she buries,
Char poses riddles, and Patty plays tricks,
While Brooke conjures music from wires and sticks,
And the rules that we live by are simple and clear..."

As always: "Modern Mystic" is on Pretty Little Dead Girl. "Counting Crows," "Cartography," and "Wicked Girls" will be on Wicked Girls. "Oh, Michelle," "The Black Death," "Dear Gina," and "Silent Hill" are on Red Roses and Dead Things. "Evil Laugh" is on Stars Fall Home.

Two quick CD notes: I am sending my last restock of Stars Fall Home to CD Baby. If you don't order it from them, you'll need to track down a friendly local filk dealer. If you don't have a friendly local filk dealer, you'll probably want to order a copy before they're all gone. Barring sudden discovery of a mis-shelved box, this is it.

I have the final cover art for Wicked Girls, and will be opening pre-orders soon. Because of postage costs, pre-order CDs will be $18 each; I'll see if there's a way for us to combine postage on multiple CD orders, but I don't yet know. International costs TBA. Watch this space for details.

See you next con!

So before we get too far from the convention, a few high (and low) points of San Diego 2010. Because otherwise, y'all will beat me with bricks in a dark alley somewhere, and I just don't have time for that.

This year, I was able to import Tara and Amy (webmistress and fiddler, respectively), and the three of us shared a room with Sunil (media madman) at the Gaslamp Marriott. Not only were we less than a five minute walk from the convention center, allowing us to easily drop things off in our room, but the hotel gave us free candy. Right there at the front desk, free candy. Amy and I decided that we were having the convention experience we would have designed for ourselves at age seven. Except for the drinking, this was probably true for the entire weekend.

Rebecca and Ryan were kind enough to pick me up from the airport; after they dropped me off, Amy and I went to get our badges while the car went back for Tara and Sunil (landing two hours later than I did). Hilarity and admission followed. Tara went off to hang with her friends, while Sunil, Amy, and I went to see an improv performance by Hammer Don't Hurt 'Em. They were decent, and the show was fun (especially since Amy got me a Long Island Iced Tea). The only real downside was Sunil accidentally ditching us while we were in the bathroom, but we went and met Rebecca and Ryan for Wendy's, so there was really no bad there.

Thursday was my first panel, The Power of Myth, which was a lot of fun, as was the signing which followed. I gave Amber Benson a copy of An Artificial Night, which she thanked me for, as now she would not be required to steal it. Tara, Amy, and I had lunch with Tanya Huff at the Cafe Diem, because the Cafe Diem is awesome. I also shopped. A lot. I enjoy shopping. I got a White Phoenix Jean Gray doll for my cover designer at Orbit, because I believe in bribery, yo. It was fun!

Thursday evening, Tanya, Tara, and I attended the Brilliance Audio author dinner, which I spent drinking Mai Tais, eating interesting things, and chatting with Phil and Kaja Foglio. My life, so hard.

Friday was my booth signing at Orbit, during which I signed a hundred copies of Feed. In the process, I drew ninety-nine tiny chainsaws, and one tiny Godzilla destroying a city. Again, my life, so hard. I had to miss the X-Men panel to do the signing (wah!), but I was able to attend the panel on James Gunn's Super (he needs to call me), which looks totally awesome. I had a second signing at the SFX booth later in the afternoon, and we gave away another fifty copies of Feed, one to the creator of Being Human. Totally awesome.

Friday evening, Tanya, Amy, and I attended the Penguin FangFest, which I spent drinking pineapple mojitos, eating cupcakes, and chatting with awesome authors. I finally met Charlaine Harris in the flesh, and it was hysterical. Exchange as follows:

Me: "Hi, it's great to finally meet you. I'm Seanan."
Charlaine: *politely blank look*
Me: *displays name tag*
Charlaine: "SHAWN-ANNE!"

*hugging*

I love having a weird name. After that, we went to the Boom! party, where I met Paul Cornell and his lovely wife, Caroline. Paul is one of my favorite humans, as he shares my love of the Black Death and giant flesh-eating lizards. I'm just saying.

Saturday was my second panel, The Rise of Zombie Fiction, which was a) mad fun, and b) reinforced my desire to write up a handbook for people doing panels at this sort of thing. Priscille from Books for Boobs came to the signing in a perfect Delirium costume, and I tried to eat her plush bear. Amy and I managed to catch the Warehouse 13 panel (Allison Scagliotti for Georgia Mason, anybody?), and then went off to dinner with John Grace at a very nice steak house. They served me port. MY LIFE, SO HARD.

Sunday, it was goodbyes and final shopping runs, and Tara and I had breakfast with Paul and Caroline before Amanda and Michael came to carry me away.

It was a good con. This writeup does not include hiding behind Anton, getting awesome swag and buttons from Rae, lots of hugging, accidental soda-based encounters, the dissolution of the Sacred Order of the Deli, ice cream, Gini Koch, late-night sammiches with Tanya, awesome dealer's room finds, free books, cheap books, expensive books, cookies, the art show, or repeat encounters with Felicia Day. But it does include a lot of awesome.

Also, if anyone came away from the con with a spare Sanctuary T-shirt, I am open to trades. Just saying.

There is a review of Feed in the October issue of SciFi Magazine. This is a major newsstand glossy, produced by the media group that ones the SyFy Channel (you know, where I spend much of my time). The cover story is about Resident Evil: Afterlife. Inside, there are stories about Haven and the new season of Eureka.

And then there is me.

A review of my book. In this magazine.

Sometimes this business of writing continues to astonish me. I know, I know: I worked hard, I worked for a long time, this isn't all being handed to me on platters by magical ponies from the moon (which is really a pity, as I would love to catch me some magical moon ponies of my very own). I don't sit here feeling like I'm getting things I shouldn't have...even if I do occasionally wonder when I'm going to wake up from this astonishingly detailed linear dream.

My book is reviewed in a magazine that includes a review of a Resident Evil movie and a television show based on the works of Stephen King. If there was any actual question of whether or not I may have accidentally sold my soul at the crossroads, this pretty much answers it.

Good thing I keep a fiddler around, huh?

Golly.

( Click here for review goodness.Collapse )

Behold! For now I wear the human pants! I have finished processing the editorial notes on Late Eclipses, gone through the book end-to-end to make sure everything still makes sense, and finished processing the corrections in Vixy's gloriously detailed machete file. Then I packed it a lunch and sent it off to play with the Machete Squad, who will doubtless hack it to hell before it gets to go back to The Editor for the final time.

The current book stats:

Pages, 369.
Words, 107,372.
Chapters, thirty-seven.
Cans of DDP, oh, wow, I cannot tell you.

I'm finally happy with this book. It's in a very awkward position, because book four is sort of where you get to say "here's when shit gets real," and make people stop treating you like you're writing a trilogy (which I never was). It's a transition book, and it follows An Artificial Night, which is still my favorite in the series. But it's also better than I ever dreamt it would be, and I'm so thrilled to have watched it grow into something wonderful.

In conclusion...

...DINO DANCE PARTY!

We begin today's "oh my God it's full of links" round-up post with the obligate LiveJournal review, this time by quippe, who says Rosemary and Rue is "An interesting urban fantasy whose central character is very different to the type usually found in this type of fiction and a carefully constructed world with a huge amount of potential, this is an entertaining novel and I will be reading more of this series." Yay!

Meanwhile, the Book Faery has posted a lengthy, lovely review of Rosemary and Rue, and says "I was pleased because I kept guessing. I honestly, for the life of me, could not figure out the ending to this book early on. It wasn't until the very end, when tiny hints were given, that everything suddenly began to click in my mind. So much like the delightful Toby, I was riding this story on the edge of my seat, curious." Also, she likes Tybalt a lot. So at least he has one fan, right? (Ow, ow, don't hit!)

Carrie gives us a two-fer, starting with her review of Rosemary and Rue, in which she says something that pleased me enough to quote at length. Specifically:

"Fairies, to me, are a lot like sparkly vampires: they're based on creatures which were, originally, something much worse, but they've been prettied up to fit in with the buying habits of tween girls and unmarried aunts. Fairies now mean fluttery and flowery and beautiful, but I know better than to believe that. Fairies are supposed to be nasty, bitey little creatures, and impossibly beautiful ice queens, and confusing things made of mixed together bits of tree branches and stolen shoes. They're not creatures of light and happiness, no matter how much glitter you slap on them. Too few people want to write about the dark side of fairies.

"Seanan McGuire understands the dark.

"She blends together Shakespeare, Irish legends, Japanese myth, medieval ballads, and Victorian Flower Fairies to tell a tale so familiar it doesn't occur to you to look for where she's gotten it wrong because it's all unbelievably right. Toby lives in a world that makes sense, in a sad and disturbing way, because it's our world, if you could see just a little more of it."

See, I sort of want this on the back cover of a book, someday.

Carrie also reviewed A Local Habitation, and says "McGuire keeps to the strict first-person perspective that helps set this series apart from other books in the genre. Toby doesn’t know anything that she doesn’t have direct knowledge of, which means that there are times she gets it wrong. Even better, McGuire doesn't 'cheat' by giving Toby a dozen well-informed advisers to fill her in on everything under the sun. There were a few times that I'd figured out a clue before Toby did, and that added to the feeling of anticipation. When you can see the monster just outside the window, the story isn't so much about figuring out if the monster is really there as it is finding out what your heroine will do when it finally catches up to her. McGuire gives us monsters, and Toby is a hero, however reluctantly, because the harder it gets, the more she resigns herself to never giving up."

Carrie, you sure do say the sweetest things...

Also reviewing A Local Habitation is Dana of Reading Amidst the Chaos, who was sadly a little less quotable, but was also a little more critical (these things are not connected), and provides a nicely balanced perspective. (Mind you, as the author, I'm about as biased as they come, so my idea of "balanced" is "liked it, but won't let it have the keys to the liquor cabinet yet." So keep that in mind.) And she thinks they're getting better! Yay!

My list of links is still insane, and I leave for San Diego in two days, so watch for a Feed review roundup tomorrow. Right now, I'm going to go put lotion on my sunburn and sprawl under the air conditioning vent.

Nnngh.

So I tend to post about things that make me happy (being a generally happy sort of girl), and that means I've mentioned the Cups and Cakes Bakery in San Francisco a time or two. They make awesome cupcakes which thrill and delight; they're easily accessible on foot or via public transit; and they're just generally awesome people, tolerant of my crazy requests and of things like my publisher asking them to let me film while they make a few dozen brain cupcakes. My love for this bakery has been well-earned, and well-justified.

Last night, after work, I went by the bakery to pick up a dozen cupcakes. It was my sister Rachel's girlfriend's thirtieth birthday, and we wanted to celebrate. (We wound up celebrating primarily by going to the Old Spaghetti Family, because we are hard-core, yo.) Since the flavors hadn't been posted online before I left the office, I called Rachel from the bakery to list off the cupcakes they had in stock.

"Chris said she really wanted Grasshopper* if they had it," she said.

"Well, they don't have Grasshopper," I replied, and kept discussing flavors with her, not really registering the fact that the cupcake ladies had gone into bucket-checking overdrive as they dug through the tubes of existing frosting. We finished our phone call. I went to place my order.

Jennifer, the owner, held up a tube of green frosting. "We can make you some Grasshoppers, if you want."

Yes. The cupcake bakery, without being asked, made my sister's girlfriend her favorite cupcakes on her birthday. Now, they did it because they happened to have the frosting on-hand, but still! How many places will go to that sort of trouble just to make somebody happy? We plied Chris with cupcakes and flowers and balloons and faux-Italian food, and she had about the best birthday of anybody ever, and it was partially due to the wonderful women of Cups and Cakes.

And also the cupcakes were delicious.

I love awesome people.

(*Chocolate cupcakes with peppermint frosting and a Junior Mint on top. They taste like Thin Mints magically transformed into cake, and they are punch-a-Girl Scout delicious.)

1. admnaismith to the white courtesy phone, admnaismith to the white courtesy phone; you have won an ARC of An Artificial Night. Please email me with your contact information, using the contact form on my website, before Sunday, or a new winner has been selected. Also, I totally need you to come make me a drink, because damn.

2. Evolution is awesome, and more bizarre than you can possibly imagine. The best thing about real life is the way that it doesn't even need to pretend to make sense. Also, it allows for factual statements like "those little hornless males have giant testicles" and "they change their color pattern and rearrange their tentacles in a more typical female arrangement." How can you not love this world?

3. Actually, you know what's better than evolution? Drunken paleontologists being allowed to name the dinosaurs that they have discovered. Yes. Thanks to the glorious power of beer, the chasmosaurine ceratopsid family has a new member: the Mojoceratops. How can you not love this dinosaur?! It has a heart-shaped frill, people. A heart-shaped frill. This is like, Barbie's Dream Dino. Great Pumpkin, thank you for the drunken paleontologists and their glories. Thank you.

4. Remember that I'll be at Borderlands Books in San Francisco, California this Saturday, appearing with the lovely jennifer_brozek as part of the second stop on the Murder and Mayhem Tour. Also, we'll have delicious cupcakes from Cups and Cakes Bakery, because we all know that's really why you attend my book events with such alacrity. Be there if you can!

5. We're less than a week out from the San Diego International Comic Convention, which, this year, I will be attending with Amy McFiddler and the fantastic Tara in tow. So, y'know, that should be a good time, apart from all the flailing and hysteria. I'll be posting my panel schedule early next week, and if you're going to be at the convention, you should totally let me know. I'd love to see you.

6. X-Men: Second Coming is over. Several characters are dead. I'm sad about some of them, not so much about others (and barely remembered a few). I really want them to get Elixir on the business of growing back the various severed limbs, as, well, this is all a bit grim for an X-book. But hey, Jean Grey is still dead, Emma Frost is still pretty, and we still have three Stepford Cuckoos wandering around. So it's hard not to be happy.

7. Other things that make me happy: Warehouse 13, Eureka, Unnatural History, Leverage, and So You Think You Can Dance. Why yes, I am a media whore. Why do you ask?

8. Zombies are love.

9. In addition to the San Diego International Comic Convention being in less than a week, I'm about two weeks out from SpoCon, where a) I'm the Music Guest of Honor, and b) Tanya Huff is the Writer Guest of Honor. DAW GIRLS IN THE HOUSE! We shall wear our Urban Fantasy Mafia colors with pride, yo.

10. The turtle can't help you, but Alice will be happy to shed on you. Just ask her.

What's news with you?

Hello, 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 )

As I write this, it's a little after nine o'clock at night. For me, on a weeknight/work night, that's very late indeed. The cats are sitting next to the chair, watching me with annoyed expressions that rather clearly telegraph "C'mon, Mom, get in the bed already." They're going to have to wait a few minutes more, while the air conditioning gets things down to a tolerable temperature in here. I mean, really. If I tried to sleep right now, all I'd do is liquefy myself.

I'm starting to put together my set list for Gafilk in January. It's going to require my usual motley crew of awesome backing musicians to learn some new pieces, as well as requiring me to extensively bribe the less-usual motley crew, so I want to solidify my desires, sit down with Paul, do some chording, and present a unified concept to the team. I think it's going to be really amazing, when it's all done.

Speaking of really amazing things, I went to Kristoph's this afternoon, and did the very very last little bits of my vocal part for Wicked Girls. Specifically, I recorded a counting rhyme for "Mother of the Crows," recorded the end spoken bits for "Tanglewood Tree," and recorded some giggles for "Jack's Place." And then I re-recorded the intro to "Counting Crows," because we had some click track bleed-through, and really, who needs to put up with that shit? I was there, we were already working, we did it, and now we are done. There are some instrumental bits yet to go, and a few vocals from other people, but on the whole, it's finished. Pre-orders are literally only waiting on finished cover art, and we may go ahead and open them without it.

I've been working on the edits and revisions to the final version of Late Eclipses (Toby four). The book is literally improving by the page. It's still a long way from done, but I'm chugging through at a more than respectable rate—which is good, since while I'm working on it, I'm not working on The Brightest Fell or Blackout. Balancing things is hard. I'm pretty good at it, but still. It's hard.

I have had a lovely glass of port (I am out of port again), and done my word count for tonight. Now is the time when I go to bed, and think sweet thoughts of finishing Late Eclipses and my short fiction assignments, thus freeing that slot for working on Midnight Blue-Light Special. I miss you, Verity!

Goodnight, world.

The combination Westercon/Conchord was wonderful, and I had an amazing time, full of joy and delight and wonder. I am so very grateful to have been their Music Guest of Honor. As is the standing tradition around here, I now present my concert set list, including annotation and lyric links, because that's what makes it useful.

The Westercon/Conchord list, with arrangement notes, was as follows:

1. "Counting Crows." (Seanan, vocals; Paul Kwinn, guitar; Maya Bohnhoff, backing vocals.)
2. "Mama Said." (Seanan, vocals; Paul, guitar; Maya, backing vocals; Beckett Gladney, harmonica.)
3. "This Is My Town." (Seanan, vocals; Paul, guitar; Maya, Paul, backing vocals.)
4. "The Snow Queen Dreams." (Seanan, vocals; Paul, guitar.)
5. "Jack's Place." (Seanan, vocals; Paul, guitar; Maya, backing vocals.)
6. "Fox Hunt." (Seanan, vocals; Paul, guitar; Maya, backing vocals; Beckett, harmonica.)
7. "Death Danced at My Party." (Lyrics and music, Talis Kimberley; Seanan, vocals; Paul, guitar; Maya, backing vocals.)
8. "Maybe It's Crazy." (Seanan, vocals; Paul, guitar.)
9. "Vampire Slayer Blues." (Seanan, vocals; Paul, guitar, bastard Watcher.)
10. "What a Woman's For." (Seanan, Maya, vocals; Paul, guitar, innocent scientist.)
11. "Dear Gina." (Seanan, vocals; Paul, guitar; Maya, backing vocals.)
12. "My Story Is Not Done." (Seanan, vocals; Paul, guitar; Maya, backing vocals.)
13. "Wicked Girls Saving Ourselves." (Seanan, vocals; Paul, guitar; Maya, backing vocals.)

ENCORE: "When I Go." (Lyrics and music, Dave Carter; Seanan, vocals; Paul, guitar, vocals; Beckett, harmonica.)

The bridge for "Wicked Girls" was...

"Now Beckett's an artist, and Vixy's run off with the fairies,
And Kathleen keeps careful account of the treasure she buries,
Sue poses riddles, and Kristine plays tricks,
While Maya sings songs, see which one that she picks,
And the rules that we live by are simple and clear..."

It was a very good set, and I enjoyed it immensely. Thanks again to the sound crew, for keeping everything running silky-smooth, and to my stunt musicians, who went above and beyond the call of duty.

As always: "This Is My Town" is on Pretty Little Dead Girl and Stars Fall Home. "Maybe It's Crazy," "What A Woman's For," and "Dear Gina" are on Red Roses and Dead Things ("Maybe It's Crazy" is also on Pretty Little Dead Girl). "Vampire Slayer Blues" is on Pretty Little Dead Girl. "Counting Crows," "Mama Said," "The Snow Queen Dreams," "Jack's Place," "Fox Hunt," "My Story Is Not Done," and "Wicked Girls" will be on Wicked Girls.

"When I Go" is on When I Go, by Dave Carter and Tracy Grammar. "Death Danced at My Party" is not currently available.

Thanks again to everyone who was there, to Westercon/Conchord for having me, and to Nick, for excellence in cat-herding as he wrangled Kwinns, McGuires, and many, many more.

See you next con!

I really, really love commissioning artwork to go with my books. Having something to look at helps me focus in a weird way that's difficult to explain without maddened waving of my hands and possibly a few declarations of "Ice worms, dammit!" One of my favorite artists to commission is the ever-lovely Amy Mebberson, who did the art for my 2008 thank you card. She has since gone on to better and brighter things, becoming an artist for Boom! Studios, which doesn't leave her much time for private commissions...so when she opened briefly for specialized commissions to be picked up at the San Diego International Comic Convention, I jumped on it with both feet. Victory!

...of course, now I had to decide what to ask her for. I settled, after much deliberation, on the lovely Miss Sarah Zellaby, arguably the oddest of the current crop of Healy girls. She was adopted by the Bakers (Evelyn Price-Healy's parents) after being orphaned at an early age—if you can call "losing the host family your biological parents brood parasitized you to" being "orphaned." Sarah would. She was too young to know what she was at the time, and she still misses her human family.

Sarah's a cuckoo. A telepathic, ectothermic (cold-blooded) mammalian parasitic wasp with a decentralized circulatory system (she has no heart). She's also a mathematician, and a bit embarrassed about her species, so her cousins try not to give her too much grief about it. Verity would be dead a dozen times over if not for Sarah. This has not helped Sarah in her quest to get a life that doesn't involve textbooks, tomato milkshakes, and apologies.

I give you...Sarah:



Squee.

I am returned from the wilds of Pasadena, where a fantastic time was had by all! I bought shinies from Springtime Creations and books from Book Universe; I ate tasty food and drank a lot of Diet Dr Pepper; I survived an entire convention with my mother firmly in tow, which may well qualify as one of the tasks of Hercules. Things I have learned: If I want to be two hours early for anything, I need to start saying we're late three and a half hours ahead of time. Also, most people consider my idea of "reasonable walking distance" to be entirely insane. But I sort of knew that part already.

My concert was fantastic, thanks entirely to the sound crew, Paul Kwinn, my handsome (and talented) stunt guitarist, and Maya Bohnhoff, my lovely (and talented) stunt...um, well, stunt Vixy. Gosh, I miss Vixy when I have to do a concert without her, but Maya really helped to make that loss a little less sorely felt. My great, great thanks go out to everyone involved with making it an awesome event. I am so honored to have had the chance to perform for you. Also, big thanks to Rebecca, who picked me and Mom up from the airport, drove us back to the airport, and really spent a distressing amount of the weekend in my company.

I'll post the full set list soon, but I just want to note that I covered Talis Kimberley's "Death Danced at My Party," at Paul's request, and it was awesome. Maya found a totally creepy harmony, and I just sang the shit out of that song. I am so happy to know such talented and amazing people.

I met Tim Powers, Todd McCaffrey, Stephen Blackmoore (newest member of the DAW family!), his lovely blue-haired wife Kari, and Ryan's new kitten, Mouse. I ate way too much challah. I came home to blue cats who hated me for about four minutes before snuggling and reassurances became way, way more important.

It was a good weekend.

A year ago, I sat in my hotel room at Duckon and listened as The Agent walked back and forth, negotiating contract terms on her cell phone. It was an amazing process, frightening and enlightening and elating and terrifying and wonderful. And at the end of it, we had a verbal agreement with Orbit/Orbit UK to purchase the Newsflesh Trilogy (Feed, Deadline, Blackout) under the pseudonym "Mira Grant."

Since that day, I have launched a new website (www.miragrant.com), written the second book in the series, argued the logic of my zombies with a hundred people, and, best of all, seen the publication of Feed in the United States and United Kingdom, made available in virtual form, released as an audio book...and this is all just the beginning. Other languages, other volumes, other miracles, other outbreaks, they're all ahead of us.

It's amazing. It's just amazing. This last year has been such a wonderful adventure, and such an incredible education. I couldn't be more grateful, or more amazed. I've worked so long and so hard, and it seems a little, well...

It's all just a little unreal.

Thank you to everyone who's been here throughout this adventure. Thanks to The Agent, for making it happen; to Amy, for tolerating my crazy during the process of the contract negotiations; to David and Michelle, for all their amazing support; to Rae, for, well, everything; to Mars, for keeping the politics from becoming too much of the pie; to Chris and Tara, for my website; to Steve and Spider, for phone tech-checks; to Brooke, for the medical details.

Thank you to everyone for reading. Hasn't this been an amazing year? And there are two more to come. It's just amazing.

It's easy to forget sometimes, given the natural impulses to focus on the negative aspects of the world around us, that people can be inherently decent. (This ties into something I've been pondering, involving Monkeyspheres and the nature of social formations, but it's also its own thing, in isolation, which is why I'm bringing it up right now.) I mean, we're all horrible human beings at some point or other, but we're also capable of being really good people. Case in point:

I don't generally carry any cash with me. It's a combination of factors, the most pressing of which is probably "I am a slightly vacant-looking blonde woman with a real fondness for the sort of trail often featured in classic horror movies." I've never been mugged, and I'd really rather not start any time soon, so I make a point of having as little money on me as possible. It's fun! This does, however, put me at a bit of a disadvantage when people looking for a cup of coffee ask me if I have any change, since "No, for sociological reasons" doesn't make much sense without the context.

Some days, I head straight to the office in the morning. Other days, I stop by the 7-11 near the Montgomery Street BART Station, where I can obtain a Double-Big Gulp of Diet Dr Pepper to get me through the morning. Despite the fact that it's June and should be, I don't know, summer, it was misting lightly, resulting in instant chilly dampness. Peh.

As I walked toward the 7-11, a man sitting on the sidewalk asked, "If you have any change when you come out, could you maybe help me get some breakfast?" He was hugging his dog. It was a good dog, brown and tan and cold-looking, but good. I like dogs.

"I'll see what I can do," I said, and went inside.

About five minutes later, I came out with my soda, a large coffee, a bunch of sugar and creamer packets (I never got the hang of fixing other people's coffees), an egg-on-croissant sandwich, and the biggest cinnamon bun they had, on the theory that he could, I don't know, give whatever he wanted to the dog. As I emerged, a little girl was petting the dog, and he was reassuring her mother that he'd never ask a kid for money just to pet his dog. The kid and her mother left. I walked over.

"I brought you breakfast," I said, and started handing him food.

He was very pleased—who doesn't like food?—and asked my name. I told him. His name was Dave (the dog was Daisy). Smiles all around...and then, as I was turning to head for work, he waved to another homeless gentleman, this one older, thinner, and sitting back against a doorway to stay out of the wet, and asked what was probably the best pair of questions I'll hear all day:

"Hey, you hungry? You want to share my breakfast?"

Sometimes the human race is fundamentally decent, even when it's hungry, damp, and sitting on a San Francisco sidewalk.

It's gonna be a pretty good day.

The links are once again threatening to completely take over my rolling file*, which is sub-optimal, since I keep other things in that file which I need to be able to locate. So it's time for a mixed review roundup! Yay! Fun for the whole family, or at least, fun for me, since I enjoy review roundups. I'm weird like that. Anyway...

To begin with today, Larissa at Aphelion has posted a review of Feed. She opens with the now-ritual "You got your zombies in my politics!" chant, which makes me giggle, and goes on to say "If you want a simple, standard zombie story where you know who’s going to live and who’s going to die, and why, then this is not the book for you. If you want a political potboiler without humor or surprises, this is not the book for you." So who is it for? "If you want a vividly written science-fiction novel in a painstakingly detailed dystopian world about strong, snarky characters who will make you care desperately about them and keep you from putting the damn book down when your lunch break is over, well, then I can tell you from experience that this is the book for you."

Awesome!

Jawas Read, Too has posted a guest review of Feed, written by Pete, who says "I love zombies, but rarely see them executed well. Feed makes every attempt to buck the tropes of bad horror and says 'What-if' on a scale that will make nerds quiver with joy. What if humanity wasn’t full of idiots that run upstairs and remove their ability to safely egress the house? What if people were armed to protect themselves? What if loved ones were a secondary concern over self preservation? All of these scenarios and more come together to paint a world where humanity has survived the global epidemic of zombie infestation, and it bleeds into every corner of the book." I like making nerds quiver with joy. It's fun!

Tina Matanguihan at The Philippine Online Chronicles has posted a lengthy review of Feed, and says "Feed was actually quite...well, awesome. It's a political thriller written over a horror backdrop, where the presence of the zombies was used to compare how the living can still do more damage than the undead. There were only a handful of zombie encounters in the entire novel, but each of the situations felt so real, that it gave the impression that the zombies were everywhere. Mira Grant allows the readers to think that everything is going fine...and then throws a huge curve ball that changes the game. It's a thrill ride in 600 pages: I was intrigued, elated, shocked, horrified and most of all heartbroken all throughout the story, and...for me, that's what makes a story awesome."

Kain, at Zombies Are Coming, has posted a very long, well-considered review of Feed, and says "Feed is one of the few book, as of late, which I have picked up and gotten truly excited about once I started reading it. Not only is it a story that is immersive and captivating, but it is written by an author that is not afraid to take risks to tell the story." I got two out of two stumps! That's...disgustingly delightful.

Professor Beej does pop culture commentary with an academic slant, and has posted a review of Feed. The academic slant says "If there are two things I love, they’re blogging and zombies. And although I thought that my life would be nearly incomplete without the combination of these two relatively unrelated things, I am pleased to announce that because of reading Mira Grant's Feed, I can die a happy man." Victory! And...um...more seriously: "Feed does something with a topic that many seen worn out and trite that few authors can do. It creates a world that is based solidly in our own and tries to answer a few fundamental questions. Not about zombies or about how we would survive (Romero already taught us that, anyway), but about where we, as a people, act and react in the face of a truly unthinkable catastrophe, and just what part will this newfangled piece of technology we call the Internet play in it?"

Jen over at My Book Addiction has posted a review of A Local Habitation, and says "I loved pretty much everything about this book. It had another freaky mystery for Toby to solve. We get to see even more Fae (I wish I could get Elliot to make a bi-weekly visit to my house)." Also, "We get more of Toby's wonderful sense of humor, especially when she interacts with Quentin, her knight-in-training assistant Boy Wonder." I love that people love Quentin. It really makes my day, because I love him so, and this way I don't feel so bad about the fact that I keep including him in things. Victory is mine!

Kyle Brady has posted a review of A Local Habitation, and says "It's too early to yet tell whether the series will be one of the rare instances in the genre of fantasy where the main character learns, adapts, and matures throughout the various episodes, but it is easy to imagine October Daye becoming more powerful, more prominent, and ultimately more sinister in the coming years." Sinister Toby! That would be awesome! And...uh...sort of terrifying. I'll be over here...

An at A Writer's Block has included her thoughts on both Toby books to date in an awesome thumbnail review batch. Take a look!

The Book Pushers had me back for an interview, because they are wonderful people. I got to answer a question with "Look, a bunny," which always makes me a happy girl. I like bunnies. Bunnies are good.

Look! A zombie bunny with a chainsaw!

Glee.

(*My rolling file contains, among other things, notes on The Brightest Fell, pendant prompts, essay topics, blog post outlines for things I keep meaning to write, notes on the Jan stories, my set list for Westercon, and the outlines of the next "Thoughts On Writing" entry. So I really do need it to continue making something vaguely resembling linear sense, lest my head should explode.)

1. Only four hours remain to enter my random drawing for an ARC of An Artificial Night! It's probably the simplest contest I'm going to have, so what have you got to lose, right? Besides, they're pretty. I like pretty things. I am a simple soul.

2. Speaking of pretty things, remember that the ALH pendant sale will be starting today at Chimera Fancies. I cannot possibly overstate how much I love Mia's pendants. If I were a wealthy woman, I'd just pay her to sit around and make them all day, and keep the bulk of her output for myself. Again, simple soul. Also, occasional magpie.

3. Leverage comes back this weekend! So You Think You Can Dance is back on the air! Cartoon Network has Unnatural History and Total Drama World Tour! Oh, I love you, summertime television. I love you so much, forever.

4. Tomorrow is my last pre-Westercon rehearsal with the fabulous Paul Kwinn, renowned in song and story, master of the meaningful look while wearing a gaudily-patterned shirt, husband of Beckett, whom I love beyond all reason. I'm very excited, despite the fact that I'm still occasionally coughing like I'm on the verge of actual death. It's gonna be awesome.

5. I have my editorial notes for Late Eclipses, and I'm busily incorporating them into the finished manuscript...while, possibly, fixing a few little language issues at the same time. It's been long enough since I touched this book that it appears to have been written by an alien, which is the best time for doing editorial. It's still my baby. It's just my weird alien baby, and that makes it more fun to autopsy.

6. Zombies are still love.

7. It's June already. That means we're getting closer and closer every day to my departure for Australia, LAND OF POISON AND FLAME, which I have only been dreaming about for most of my life. I'm so excited it's scary, and not just because I'm on the ballot for the Campbell (although that remains a constant GOTO loop at the back of my brain). I get to go to Australia! I get to breathe Australian air! My life is awesome sometimes.

8. We've entered the final stages of recording Wicked Girls, and it should, I hope, I pray, be able to make the October release date that I so optimistically set for myself. I'll be announcing the pre-orders soon, since that's how I finance mixing and mastering, and I'm really, really happy with this album, as a whole. It's just...it's what I wanted. And that's incredible.

9. I think the cats are stealing my will to leave the house. I just want to sleep.

10. I need more ARC contests! Suggest something. Be silly, be serious, request that I do your favorite all over again, whatever. I need ideas, and so I turn to you, the glorious Internet, to give them to me.

It's Friday!

My friend Mia makes jewelry. She turns recycled books of fairy tales, myths, and legends into incredible transformative jewelry, unlocking stories from the confetti bones of the stories that came before. I own more of her pendants than I care to really admit to, having acquired at least one or two from just about every sale she's done. You've heard all this before. So why am I saying it again?

Because she's posting a new sale tomorrow on chimera_fancies, her jewelry blog...and once again, it's not just any sale. Because after the success of her pendants based off an ARC of Rosemary and Rue, she decided to repeat her glorious experiment, and created pendants from an ARC of A Local Habitation. ARCs are not intended for resale; they're transitory things, unable to stand up to the stress of multiple re-readings. So Mia, mindful of the ARC's tragically short lifespan, took and transformed it into more than sixty gorgeous pieces of wearable art. I'm very serious. These pendants are some of the best work I've ever seen from her. She's growing as an artist with every piece she does, and for this set, she really busted out all the stops.

All pendants have been signed by me, in either black or silver Sharpie, depending on the base color. They'll be going up in three batches, starting tomorrow. You'll be able to request up to two pendants on Friday or Saturday, and then as many as you like of those remaining come Sunday (see her journal for details). All pendants will be $24, which includes postage.

These really are incredible. I couldn't be happier, or feel more honored, to be working with someone who does such amazing things. The announcement post, complete with previews, is here:

Come for the shiny, stay for the spectacular.

It's time for everyone's favorite ARC giveaway, the random drawing. To participate...

1) Leave a comment. As a reply to the entry, please, not as a reply to someone else's comment.
2) That's all.

I will select the winner of a signed ARC of An Artificial Night, the third October Daye adventure, at noon Pacific time on Friday, June 18th. The winner will have until Sunday evening to provide me with a mailing address; otherwise, I'll pick another winner. The winner will be chosen via random number generation.

So comment, and tell me why you're excited about book three! Maybe you could win an early look!

We are now ninety days out from the release of An Artificial Night (October Daye, book three). It's up on Amazon.com, and people are pre-ordering. The ARCs should be arriving at my house any day now; they may even be waiting for me when I get home tonight. My page proofs have been reviewed, returned to DAW, and confirmed as received, which means this book is now officially outside my control: I can't change anything.

Ninety days.

An Artificial Night is the third and last book on my original contract was DAW. It's also the last book to be mostly complete at the time of sale. Barring editorial notes, small changes, and typo correction, all three have been done since before Rosemary and Rue was released. In many ways, this has been a great thing. On the one hand, it's meant that I couldn't change what I was doing based on outside criticism. On the other hand, it's meant that I couldn't change what I was doing based on outside criticism—I couldn't fix anything, but I also couldn't have a first-time novelist freak-out and wind up completely rewriting the rest of the series to meet an unreachable standard. I know this has been a luxury. It's one I'm very, very glad to have had.

This book is my favorite of the first three. I love the whole thing. I love the situation, I love the reality of it, and I love that Toby is finally past the events of the first book to such an extent that she can really stand up and do her job. I love that in just ninety days, you'll be able to hold it in your hands.

How many miles to Babylon?

Not that many.

Words: 4,741.
Total words: 42,577.
Reason for stopping: I have reached the end of chapter eleven. I need air.
Music: the entire collection, on random.
Lilly and Alice: sniffing my picnic basket and on the cat tree, respectively.

This may seem like a less impressive word count than last night's 37k, but since that was "revised and official text to date," and this is "one night's hard work," I'm going to call it a win. Also, I feel like I've been ridden madly over the moors for most of a night, and I didn't even get a nice bucket of oatmeal cookies for my troubles. Tired author is tired, and about to retire to the bath.

The Brightest Fell is turning into a real book, with a real point and purpose behind it, and with real ideas about where the narrative is supposed to go. I'm going to spend a chunk of this weekend redoing my outline, since half of it has gone out the damn window, but the book is so much unutterably better for it that I'm not actually complaining. Just, you know. Whining a little. It's so nice to be back in Toby's world, hanging out with all these crazy-train fairy tale rejects and dealing with their even crazier, even trainier, problems. Lots of crazy in this one.

Next up, I attempt to get enough finished text that I can pretend to be at least a novella. Also, I take a nice long nap.

I have finally managed to stagger home from Marcon, where I had a wonderful time as their Music Guest of Honor, only to get stranded overnight in Chicago (more on this later). As is the standing tradition around here, I now present my concert set list, including annotation and lyric links, because that's what makes it useful.

The Marcon list, with arrangement notes, was as follows:

1. "Counting Crows." (Seanan, vocals; Tom Smith, guitar; Amy McNally, fiddle.)
2. "The Ghost of Lilly Kane." (Seanan, vocals; Dr. Mary Crowell, piano.)
3. "Another Mad Science Love Song." (Seanan, Tom, vocals; Tom, guitar; Mary, Amy, minions.)
4. "What A Woman's For." (Seanan, Mary, Amy, vocals; Mary, piano.)
5. "Missing Part." (Seanan, vocals; Tom, guitar; Amy, fiddle.)
6. "The Black Death." (Seanan, vocals; Tom, guitar; Amy, Mary, eager students.)
7. "Silent Hill." (Seanan, vocals; Mary, piano.)
8. "Dear Gina." (Seanan, Mary, vocals; Mary, piano.)
9. "In the Foam." (Seanan, vocals.)
10. "Mother of the Crows." (Seanan, vocals; Mary, piano; Amy, fiddle.)
11. "Still Catch the Tide." (Seanan, Judi Miller, vocals; Mary, piano; Amy, fiddle.) Talis Kimberley cover.
12. "My Story Is Not Done." (Seanan, vocals; Mary, piano; Amy, fiddle; everybody, last chorus vocals.)
13. "Wicked Girls Saving Ourselves." (Seanan, vocals; Mary, piano; Amy, fiddle.)

The bridge for "Wicked Girls" was...

"Now Debbie's a pirate, and Vixy's run off with the fairies.
Diana keeps careful account of the treasure she buries,
Kate poses riddles, and Mary plays tricks,
While Amy calls music from wires and sticks,
And the rules that we live by are simple and clear..."

This was the first time I was able to perform with Tom Smith on stage, and I was honored and delighted by Mary's willingness to pitch in and do rather more piano than she had originally agreed to. This was also the first time I got to sing with Judi, and have an entire concert set signed by her. The way she signs "Wicked Girls" is...magic. It's just magic.

As always: "Still Catch the Tide" is on Stars Fall Home. "The Black Death," "What A Woman's For," "Another Mad Science Love Song," "Dear Gina," and "Silent Hill" are on Red Roses and Dead Things. "Counting Crows," "The Ghost of Lilly Kane," "Mother of the Crows," "My Story Is Not Done," and "Wicked Girls" will be on Wicked Girls.

This was a great set; thanks to everyone who was there, to Marcon for having me, and to Kate, for running the merchandise table with grace and aplomb.

See you next con!

It's time, once again, to clear out my list o' links before something on my computer actually manages to catch fire. Yay! The links have been building up like nobody's business; I attribute this, in part, to the fact that I put out two books in a little over two months, which makes it a miracle that I still speak English, rather than some exotic new language of my own devising. (That, or I've had a full-on psychotic break and only think I still speak English, in which case, dweezle wooblet mugga ze.)

To start today's roundup, here's a lovely record of the Feed book release event at Borderlands, written by TJ at Book Love Affair. There are pictures of the brain cupcakes and the fabulous Ryman for President buttons that Rae made, and it makes me quite happy. Be sure to read the comments, which are very complimentary of my book events. Yay!

Azz has posted a combo-book review and event review, which is fantastic, detailed, spoiler-free, and includes the best "Should I read Feed?" quizlet I've seen yet. Also, to quote two of my favorite bits...

"If you do emphatically do not like reading about the undead, do not read this book. It is not an unending gore porn festival like many forms of zombie fiction, but there are zombies; they are technically still alive, just horribly infected, and they do bite and feed and need killing. If you wanted a gore porn festival with a game of Zombie Survivor where you watch to see which one or two of the party make it back to an uninfected zone alive, this is not what you are getting; this is the civilization of the post-zombie times, not a survivalist picnic. (Ask Shaun how he feels about the military's recommendations on what to do in case of zombie attack sometime.) I would not give this book to my mother. I might leave this book where my father could find it, but I would not tell my father that he should read it. I would (and already have, quite enthusiastically) tell my best friend that he should read it (as soon as possible)."

...and...

"If you are against vaccination, for your personal safety, do not tell this to the author. The author's hobbies include studying disease for fun, not just for research. If you say something stupid like "It's not like anybody's ever died from smallpox! It's a PERSONAL CHOICE!" ... punching you may be the author's PERSONAL CHOICE. I hope you don't mind."

So very, very true. Moving on, I did an author review with The Intelli-Gent, which was fun, creative, and came up with some rockin' new questions, including some very specific state of publishing questions that I don't get asked all that often. Prior to the interview, Bryce reviewed Rosemary and Rue and A Local Habitation, just to prepare.

About Rosemary, he says, "Rosemary and Rue stacks up very well against all of the urban fantasy I've read in the last couple of years. The characters, setting and plot all come together to make you feel something, and thus it becometh a page turner. If you're a fan of the genre, you're going to want to add this to your list of things to read this year."

About A Local Habitation, he says, "A Local Habitation is a fine sequel. In many ways, it builds on what was already there, and there are really no major drawbacks to the book. It's nice to see an author that's consistent, as so many seem to have that second book slump, where it just doesn't measure up to their first brilliant idea."

Works for me, and big thanks to TJ, Azz, and Bryce for the interview and reviews. Now if I can just get through the rest of these links before my computer explodes...

First up, I'm going to be speaking at CoyoteCon this coming Saturday night; schedule details are here. I'm appearing as part of an author conversation, alongside Lucy Snyder, and I'm very excited. Best of all, since this is a virtual conference, I can do it while wearing my jack-o-lantern sleep pants and snuggling my kitties. It's much easier to be professional and authorial when I get to wear pumpkin pants and get kitty snuggles. I'm just saying.

Next weekend, I'm going a bit further afield, and while I could probably do it in my pajamas if I really wanted to, kitty snuggles are not an option. I'm Filk Guest of Honor at Marcon in scenic Columbus, Ohio. I'll be performing in concert with Tom Smith, Dr. Mary Crowell, and the ever-fabulous Amy McNally, and Judi Miller will be signing (so if you've ever wanted to see her do "Wicked Girls," you should really show up). The convention is Friday, May 28th through Sunday, May 30th, and I'm super excited.

I'll post my schedule for the con sometime next week. And oh! I'm bringing Kate as my official handler, so if you've been dying to meet her, again, you should really show up. I have no scheduled bookstore events while in Ohio, but I've met me, and I'm likely to sign any stock that presents itself; I'll try to put up a list of which stores I visit, just in case you can't make the convention, but can make the drive.

This is my first Marcon, and I'd really like to make it amazing. Yes, it does mean I'll be missing BayCon; I'm planning to miss BayCon next year, too, as I'm probably attending Wiscon. The times, they are a'changing.

Marcon!

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Um...okay."

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

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

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

"Oh, good."

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

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

I am absolutely delighted to announce the cover release for Nebelbann, the German edition of A Local Habitation. ("Nebelbann" means, roughly, "mist-spell" or "mist-ban." It's a really spiffy compound word, and I'm thrilled.) This is being released by Egmont, my German publisher, and the cover design was done by the artist who designed the cover of Winterfluch.

Behold the pretty:



It's so different from my US covers, and so pretty, that I honestly couldn't be happier. I'm really happy.

What do you think?

Last week was a big, big week for me, at least if you categorize "Seanan is running around in circles screaming like an idiot" as "big week." How big? Well, for starters, The Onion A.V. Club reviewed Feed. YES. I AM IN THE ONION. FUCK YEAH, SEAKING. Ahem. The reviewer says:

"Set more than two decades after an uprising of the living dead, Feed uses meticulous world-building to shape a narrative that's believable, thrilling, and instantly clear. From examining the political consequences of a world constantly under siege to detailing how blogging and Internet news feeds would develop in the face of the threat, Grant's creativity and thoroughness give her narrative an unshakable credibility."

...if you'll excuse me a minute, I'll be in my bunk.

Not that I'll be staying there for long, because io9 also posted a review of Feed. Holy cats. They call Feed "perfect summer apocalypse reading," and say "This fast-paced undead thriller will be great for people who enjoy their zombie slaughtering with a hearty slice of social commentary." The whole review is worth reading, but those were the quotes that really buttered my biscuits. (io9 also did a fun and awesome post on the book website. Check it out.)

The Book Smugglers are frequent reviewers of my material, and I was thrilled when Thea gave Feed a review. She says "More than anything else, I loved the amount of thought Ms. Grant put into writing this book. Feed is INCREDIBLY detailed; George's world is fleshed out, from the genesis of the deadly pathogen to the constant vigilance required living with this airborne virus. Ms. Grant's vision of a future American ravaged by KA is grimly complete." Yay!

I also did what's called an "Inspirations and Influences" post for the Book Smugglers, talking about what inspires me, what drives me to write, and where the Newsflesh trilogy came from. The giveaway is over, but the interview remains.

Jenn Brozek has posted a combined review and interview at the Apex blog, and says "Feed is the best zombie book I have ever read. It is smart, fast paced, and intriguing. What could have been a run-of-the-mill zombie farce is, instead, a near future political thriller with twists and turns that you can see coming but only in retrospect." Glee.

Anna has entered Feed in her book log, and says "I’m not sure what impressed me more, and there’s a lot to impress here: the backstory of the Kellis-Amberlee virus; the various complex social and political changes that happen in America as a result of the Rising; the fact that in this world, George Romero is considered a national hero; or the upsurge of bloggers as a source of organized journalism. Either way, it makes me very much want to up the ante on my own writing efforts. Take note, my fellow writers. This is how worldbuilding is done."

Victory is mine, victory is mine, joy in the morning, victory is mine. I have drunk deep from the keg of glory.

Glee.

The first time I met Cat Valente, I was predisposed to dislike her. I had, after all, just come off a plane (I am never at my most charming when I have just come off a plane), we really hadn't spoken much at all (if at all), and she was waiting for me in Betsy and Dave's kitchen, like a grumpy* trapdoor alligator. I was not in a "meeting new people" headspace, and I didn't really have a way to avoid her, since she was between me and the bed.

The second time I met Cat Valente, it was eight o'clock in the morning, and she was in dire need of coffee, lest worlds should end. I, on the other hand, was bright-eyed and perky, having already been awake for an hour. I believe this was the meeting during which she was justifiably predisposed to dislike me. (I never hold people disliking me in the morning against them. It shows sanity.)

This is a story about Cat, and about me, and about all of us.

Because see, Cat had an idea for a book about a city that existed somewhere outside the bounds of simple cartography. It was a city of the sacred and profane geography of the soul, and it was called "Palimpsest." She wrote its story, because that's what women like her do, and, in the process, she wrote the story of a story: a children's book called The Girl Who Circumnavigated Fairyland in a Boat of Her Own Making. People were enchanted by the very notion of it, and asked when she was going to write it. She said she wasn't, and so of course, she did.

The Girl Who Circumnavigated Fairyland in a Boat of Her Own Making was originally crowd-funded, posted online for anyone to read. People followed the green wind into the realms of Cat's version of Fairy, and the book sailed away on sails that we all spun together. Since then, print rights have been sold, along with the promise of a sequel...and The Girl Who Circumnavigated Fairyland in a Boat of Her Own Making has been nominated for the Andre Norton Award. It's being given tonight at the Nebulas, the day after we sent a shuttle into the sky to become a star.

Pause a moment, and consider this. The Girl Who Circumnavigated Fairyland in a Boat of Her Own Making was a dream inside a dream, and it became reality because people said "I want this, and I am willing to help you make it real." It became so real that it's on the ballot for a major literary award. The book of the dream that birthed it, Palimpsest, is up for the Hugo, given the same weekend as the Campbell Award (which I have been nominated for, and yes, have had weird dreams about). We made this real for Cat, and so she made it real for everyone else.

Whether she comes home with the award or not, she's already won, because nothing like The Girl Who Circumnavigated Fairyland in a Boat of Her Own Making has ever made this sort of ballot before. Know that you helped to do this, and be glad.

Oh, and Cat?

I like you now. Even when I'm tired.

(*My screensaver face is one of abject puzzlement. Cat's is one of holy irritation. We're like the Statler and Waldorf of urban fantasy when we're tired and standing next to each other.)

Kelley Armstrong is one of my favorite urban fantasy authors, and yet more proof that All Good Things Come From Canada.* She was the second person to officially blurb Rosemary and Rue, for which I will love her forever. (The first person was Tanya Huff, and for this, I potentially owe her a kidney.) I mean, really, the only thing that could make Kelley better would be for her to suddenly become local.

OH WAIT WHAT'S THIS? Kelley Armstrong will be appearing at San Francisco's own Borderlands Books tonight at seven? The best bookstore in the world has one of my favorite authors ever? Also one of my mother's favorite authors** ever? Is there anything about this which is not TOTAL WIN?

No. There is not. I hope to see you there, and remember, you can always contact the store to request signed/personalized books, because they are JUST THAT AWESOME.

Whee!

(*Okay, maybe not all good things, but since Canada gives me Brooke, Tanya, Urban Tapestry, Coffee Crisp bars, and ReGenesis, as well as the production of ninety percent of the television I love, I'm willing to give them some extra credit for awesome.)

(**Mom goes Jim Hines, Kelley Armstrong, me. When I eventually slay Jim and Kelley*** on the field of battle, this will be why.)

(***Accidental portmanteaus of Jim and Kelley include "Kim" and "Jelley." I now want to write a series of YA stories about Kim and Jelly, UNDERWORLD EXPLORERS. They would have wild adventures and wear silly hats. Kim is from a secret steampunk under-society built beneath the sewers of San Francisco, using the 1906 earthquake as cover. Jelly is a clone-construct originally intended as an organ farm for his creator. They probably fight crime.)

Two years ago today, I got out of bed (way too early), put on clothes (because nudity is frowned upon on public transit), and went to work. I don't usually remember what I was wearing on any given day, but this one, I do: jeans, bright yellow tank top, pink-and-yellow Chimera Fancies pendant that reads "fairy changeling this is all a dream." It was an ordinary start to what seemed likely to be an ordinary day.

Two years ago today, The Agent was shopping the Toby Daye books, trying to find just the right house for my debut series. I mean, really, we knew what Just The Right House was: DAW Books. It was the very first publisher we'd been in contact with, after being referred there by one of their existing authors. They had exactly the right sort of atmosphere, and they'd published a lot of books I've really loved. I wanted to work with these people. All I could do was hope that they wanted to work with me.

Two years ago today, my phone rang. Caller ID said that it was The Agent—that's actually what her number is saved as in my phone book, because I am sometimes a little bit bizarre about such things—so I excused myself to take the call.

The Agent said three words to me. "We got DAW."

This was followed by a lot of other information about contracts and money and publishing schedules and blah blah blah fishcakes, because I had really checked out completely. Out of the conversation, out of body, out to lunch, buh-bye. I made all the appropriate noises of assent, and managed to sound like I wasn't crying, because years of fake-it-til-you-make-it has made me really, really good at that sort of thing. (Severe back injury plus chronic pain issues plus "suck it up" equals I can sound perky and happy about my situation while being consumed from the toes up by a giant snake. It's awesome. Also sort of bad, because my automatic response to trauma is frequently "gosh, what fun.")

Eventually, the call ended. I went outside. I called Vixy. I made horrible shrieky bat-noises, causing dogs all around San Francisco to bark themselves hoarse, run in circles, and slam into trees. Pigeons lost the ability to fly and splattered down on the pavement like really disturbing rain. Vixy, upon determining that I was shrieky with joy, not distress, made suitable noises until I calmed down enough to tell her what was going on. Then she started shrieking, too. It was a shrieky day.

Two years ago today, I sold the first three Toby books. Today, I have three framed cover illustrations on my living room walls, and five framed covers hanging scattered through the rest of my house. I have books on the shelf with my name on them, and published reviews in places like Locus and the Onion A.V. Club. I have a contract for two more Toby books after those first three, and my fingers crossed for more after that.

Two years ago today.

Wow.

One of my favorite things about Brooke is the way she gets excited about a lot of the same horrible things that I get excited about. I love all my friends, but very few of them respond to "Hey! I found a horrific multi-segmented exoskeletal thing under this rock!" with "Oooh, neat, let me see!" the way that Brooke will. Brooke is awesome.

Since the book release party was Saturday, and Brooke was going to be staying with me all day Sunday, we started talking about California Things We Could Do. Somehow, this led to my announcing that we have foot-long electric yellow slugs available for viewing in Muir Woods. INSTANT RELEVANCE TO BROOKE'S INTERESTS. And this is how my long-suffering mother found herself roped into spending Mother's Day driving out to Muir Woods so that we could go hunting for monopods in the damp redwood forests of Northern California.

Once again, the apple really didn't fall all that far from the tree.

Muir Woods is about a ninety minute drive from my house, and we used the excursion as an opportunity to educate my mother about Canadian music, blasting Moxy Fruvous and Great Big Sea (she was tolerant). She did ask me at one point whether I'd called the park to be sure they were open. I confirmed that I had. Then...

"Well, did you ask if the banana slugs were out?"
"It's not like the park rangers were going to go and check."

There is no banana slug time clock.

Muir Woods was surprisingly crowded when we arrived; apparently, I wasn't the only person who thought celebrating Mother's Day with giant yellow slugs was a good idea. Brooke and I were ready to be thrilled by nature; I started with being thrilled by the chipmunk in the parking lot. SO CUTE. After that, we were thrilled by a Banana Slug Crossing sign, a First Amendment Zone, and the bathroom. Did I mention that we're excitable?

It was misting lightly as we entered Muir Woods: perfect weather for casual hiking and banana slug-hunting. We had barely been inside for five minutes when the first banana slug sighting occurred, with a three-inch yellow guy* waving his eyestalks saucily at us from the clover next to the walkway. Brooke took his picture. Two minutes later, banana slug sighting number two occurred. So here we are, wandering through this cathedral of redwoods, the tallest trees in the world standing sentinel all around us...looking at the ground. I love my friends.

We did stop to gape at redwoods, and Brooke took many, many pictures. Eventually, we turned onto a side trail, where we proceeded to hit the banana slug jackpot, finding a four-inch Pacific banana slug and two seven-inch California banana slugs in quick succession. Yay!

Now, there's an old tradition that, if you disturb a banana slug while in the woods, you have to kiss it before you put it back. I was watching the Pacific banana slug industriously ooze around on my coat sleeve when a family with three little boys walked up, irresistibly drawn to my slimy friend. Not wanting to be responsible for the squishing of every slug in Muir Woods, I told them about kissing slugs, and that I'd have to kiss the slug before I put it back.

They looked at me expectantly.

I kissed the slug. (I admit this only because Brooke was carrying a camera, and hence has proof.) The eldest of the boys also kissed the slug. His mother made sure to get it on camera, and will thus be able to horrify his prom date in a decade or so. That's me, making the future harder since 1978.

We stopped at the park gift shop when we finished slug hunting, and Brooke acquired a glow-in-the-dark Slug Patrol T-shirt, which she chortled over with great glee. Then it was off to the car, and onto what Brooke termed "the roadkill buffet." A deer came bounding in front of our car, causing Mom to shout and point it out to Brooke (because they don't have deer in Canada, apparently). She was so busy shouting and pointing out the deer that she totally missed the fawn that was following its mother across the road. I screamed. Brooke screamed. Mom hit the brakes, missing Bambi by inches. I swear, if she had hit that damn deer, we'd still be up in Muir Woods. Mourning.

We started moving again after the fawn cleared the road. A wild turkey came strutting across the roadway, unconcerned by the large motor vehicle hurtling toward it. Mom stopped for the turkey.

"You have turkeys here, just wandering around," said Brooke, nonplussed. "That's a thing."

Also featured on the roadkill buffet: joggers! Suicidal joggers! Some people really don't want to live to breed. We managed to not kill any of them, and went rolling merrily back toward home, Mom and I bellowing along to the radio, Brooke slowly passing out in the backseat.

Happy Mother's Day!

(*Technically, banana slugs are hermaphroditic. Really, I don't think they care.)

Saturday was my book launch party for Feed, kindly hosted by the wonderful crew at Borderlands Books. They're very tolerant of my particular brand of crazy, and I appreciate that, since I've been working with this brand for so long that I don't think I could make the switch to generic crazy even if I wanted to.

Brooke arrived Friday from Vancouver, and the plan was that my mother would pick up her, me, and Amy from my house sometime around ten, so that we would have time for a stop in Berkeley before heading into San Francisco. Mom actually arrived around eleven, as she had needed to go pick up the van that we were using to haul everyone around for the day; I allowed that this was, perhaps, an acceptable delay. We encountered more delays, in the form of "picking up Mom's friend Sydney" and "stopping so Brooke could sit on the curb until she stopped feeling like she was going to throw up," and then we were on our way.

First stop: Berkeley, where we visited the Bone Room (lots of exciting dead things for Brooke to coo over!) and collected Kate, who was going to be accompanying us for the rest of the day. Kate, being exceptionally clever, brought her iPad, complete with pre-loaded Plants vs. Zombies. So I played Plants vs. Zombies all the way to San Francisco, and PS, now I want an iPad. All hail Kate.

Second stop: Ghirardelli Square, one of those San Francisco institutions and tourist flytraps that everybody needs to visit at least once, if only to see the fountain with the copper mermaids force-feeding frogs to their horrified babies (no, really). Amy, Kate, and I wound up being the ones to place our order, which meant that we got to choose all the flavors of ice cream for our Earthquake. FEAR OUR POWER. Expert table-sharking netted us a nice table near an epically loud cluster of Girl Scouts, and we settled to await our ice cream.

The thing about the Earthquake is that it's one of those sundaes that comes with eight spoons and really means it. It takes two people to bring it to your table. When the Earthquake arrived, a moment of hushed silence fell, all of us just staring at the enormous mound of dairy goodness in front of us. And then we attacked, like starving hyenas at the waterhole. Only whipped cream and memories remained by the time our spoons dropped from our sugar-numbed fingers, because that is how you start a book release party.

Third stop: Cups and Cakes, to pick up the eight dozen mini cupcakes ordered for the event. The brain cupcakes looked amazing. So amazing, in fact, that I forgot I was supposed to be getting cotton candy cupcakes in the variety pack—whoops. It turned out not to matter, as the cupcakes I did get were utterly destroyed over the course of the evening. All hail sugar, all mourn for my fallen diet.

Fourth stop: Borderlands at last. We got there literally four minutes before we were supposed to arrive, which was cutting it pretty darn close, to find the store teeming with excited party-goers. All attempts to keep people out of the cupcakes failed, as they kept opening the boxes and snitching out cupcakes every time I turned my back, so we eventually just gave up and let the hordes descend. Rae brought RYMAN FOR PRESIDENT buttons, which were even more awesome than the cupcakes, and passed them out to the crowd.

After milling, I read the first chapter of Feed, and we had a fun, fast-paced discussion/Q&A session before another milling-and-cupcakes break. This was followed by my reading "Gimme a 'Z'!", since I didn't want to read chapter two, and we needed something else to amuse the crowd. Jude hadn't realized that I was serious when I said she was the new Squad Leader. Much amusement abounded. After that came another Q&A, and then we broke for the evening, leaving the bookstore in the same condition that we found it in.

Fifth stop: The Phoenix for dinner, before somebody got killed and eaten. I had lamb stew. My diet, so shot for the night.

Sixth stop: The airport, to send Amy back to Wisconsin.

Seventh stop: Kate's house, to return her to GP.

Eighth stop: Home, and bed.

I love book release night. Go Pumpkins!

I arrived home last night, essentially dead on my feet, to find a book mailer waiting for me on the front porch. Huh, I thought, and picked it up. It was from Maine. I like Maine. It was from Sharon Lee (of Lee and Miller). I like Sharon Lee. I took the book mailer inside, opened it, and shrieked, startling both the cats and my mother.

I have a signed copy of Mouse and Dragon [Amazon]. The new Liadin Universe book. The direct sequel to Scout's Progress, the book that hooked me on Lee and Miller in the first place (while sitting in Rika's living room in Peterborough, England, thus proving that good things come from travel). Daav and Aelliana! Possibly my favorite space opera romantic couple, like, ever!

Did I mention that it's signed? To me? Because oh, right, I gave them a cover blurb, which is right there on the back cover. My very first published cover blurb, and it's on a Liadin novel by Lee and Miller.

As my beloved Deborah recently said to me, FUCK YEAH, SEAKING. (It's a Pokemon joke. Don't worry about it. On second thought, maybe you should worry about me making Pokemon jokes.)

If you're not familiar with Lee and Miller's work, you should be. They do space opera the way it's meant to be done, sort of Jane Austen meets rip-roaring adventure and also, starships. There's a compilation of three of the "origin stories" coming out soon, titled Dragon Variations, and the rest of the series is reasonably easy to track down.

I love these books enough to write cover blurbs for them. Also, I have a signed copy of Mouse and Dragon, which proves, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that it's awesome.

FUCK YEAH, SEAKING.

Glee.

The links are building up, and they're starting to threaten a coup, which means it's time for—yes—another review roundup. This one is purely focused on the Toby Daye books, since otherwise, the Toby-specific links are going to come for me in the night. Onward!

Jessica at Book Bound has posted a review of Rosemary and Rue, and says "Toby has made her way into my top three heroines list and I am doubtful that she will be surpassed. I am sickened by the fact that it took me so long to find out about this book and then finally read it and I absolutely cannot wait to follow October Daye on her next adventure." Also: "Completely original and exhilarating, Rosemary and Rue is one book that will forever remain on my bookshelf." Awesome!

Mardel at Rabid Reader has also posted a review of Rosemary and Rue, and says "The narrative on this novel was good, the dialogue was fine, there were clues to let me think about who the culprit might be, lots of action (unfortunately mostly in the form of injuries to October, but it's action) and the promise of happiness for October." (There's also some awesome objection to the amount of injury Toby sustains, which made me giggle a lot. Oh, pulp detective tropes, is there nothing you can't improve?) I'm pleased.

calico_reaction has posted a very long, thoughtful, and well-considered review of Rosemary and Rue. I'm not going to do any pull quotes, because frankly, the things that she's bringing up, especially as regards Toby's relationship to Devin, don't work nearly as well out of context, and the context is good. The things that bother other people aren't always the things that bother me, but I love to see them articulated and thought-out to this degree. It makes it easier for me to evaluate my own work in the light of how other people will see it.

Because it's always good to balance the sincere with the sincerely silly, I give you The Wanlorn's review of A Local Habitation, which involves a lot of caps lock and flailing. I mean, look, here's a quote:

"I'll be honest, internet. I go back and forth between BFF-shipping Toby and the Luidaeg and, you know. Actually shipping them. I mean, come on. Toby calls her to let her know she won't make their weekly visit. And the Luidaeg started calling Toby to harass her in the first place because she was lonely. The Luidaeg threatens to kill her all the time, and might very well go through with it when Toby asks her final question! MENT2B."

COMIC GENIUS. Also kinda spoilerific. But? COMIC GENIUS.

Over at From Nancy Drew to Dante's Inferno (great name!), Ex Libris has posted a lovely review of A Local Habitation, and says "I discovered McGuire last year when I was hunting online for new authors. All my favorite ones had no new books out and I was desperate for new fantasy/paranormal/mystery books. McGuire is brilliant!" I...can live with that, really. Onward!

Hagel Rat over at Unbound has posted a review of A Local Habitation, and starts with a lovely statement of purpose for urban fantasy. Namely:

"Urban Fantasy at it's very best has the gritty noir and cynicism of Chandler's Philip Marlowe, a dry humour bordering on bitter and a well constructed, logical, fully functioning supernatural element. This doesn't mean cute fluffy vamps that are always falling in love with their sworn enemy. It means a system that makes sense and carries consistently through the series."

Best. Thing. Ever. She goes on to say "This isn't paranormal romance, this is a mystery which the protagonist must solve against the odds and in spite of the threat to their own lives which will suggest a simple case is rather more complex. For me it accesses the same delight as the old noir mysteries too, but with this new twist to freshen it all up." Glee.

Finally, a mini-review of A Local Habitation which notes favorably that we fixed the pronunciation of "kitsune." We can be taught!

Now we must rinse.

Look! I was the Big Idea on John Scalzi's blog! I'm pretty delighted. Also, his introduction is awesome:

"Oh Noes! It’s the Zombie Apocalypse™! It’s the end of the world! Yes, yes, Mira Grant said, zombies, end of the world, blah blah blah. Been there. Done that. Got the bloody t-shirt. But what comes after the end of the world, when the world actually is still there? One answer: Feed, which takes a couple decades beyond the zombie apocalypse to a world which has, in its way, adjusted to the undead. And Grant (the pen name for current Campbell Award nominee Seanan McGuire) does a pretty good job with it, according to a starred review in Publishers Weekly: 'Shunning misogynistic horror tropes in favor of genuine drama and pure creepiness, McGuire has crafted a masterpiece of suspense with engaging, appealing characters.' Well, then."

Thank you, Mr. Scalzi.

Also in Feed-related news, Indigo has posted her review, and says "I have read everything Seanan has published to date. And while I like and enjoy the October Daye series quite well, my feeling is that Newsflesh: Feed is the beginning of something truly phenomenal." Glee! (She also put up a TV Tropes page for the book. Now that's love. Be careful; there are spoilers.)

ash_of_roses has posted a review of Feed, and says "This is the kind of book you fall in love with. You fall fast enough you don't realize what's even happening until it's much too late. You fall so fast and so hard that you almost forget what the book has promised you it is going to be. When those promises come true you want it to be a betrayal, but it isn't. This book doesn't lie about what it is; from the blood-smeared front cover to the very last page, this book never pretends to be gentle, or kind, or have a happy ending This book does not lie, and it does not apologize—nor should it."

That may be one of the nicest things anybody's ever said about my work. Again, cross-stitch, on my wall, oh, yes.

In case you missed it, check out this utterly bad-ass website that Orbit put together to promote the book, complete with more bells and whistles than a Chuck E. Cheese. Also check out the awesome new wallpaper they've posted (and remember, there's more awesome wallpaper at MiraGrant.com).

That's all for right now. Whee!

This Saturday, May 8th 2010, I will be appearing at San Francisco's own Borderlands Books in my guise as Mira Grant to celebrate the release of Mira's first novel, Feed [Amazon]|[Mysterious Galaxy]. Feed is a science fiction dystopian novel of political zombie terror, best described as "Night of the Living Dead meets The West Wing and Transmetropolitan." If that sounds a little weird, well...it is. But if it sounds a little awesome, you should totally swing by.

This is going to be a more traditional event than most of my parties, because Mira's a traditional kind of girl...especially if by "traditional" you mean "fond of machetes, the undead, and things that go bump in the night." We'll be in the bookstore starting at five, and we'll be staying there until nine, providing plenty of time for undead awesomeness. There will be readings, discussion, time for wandering around the bookstore, and, yes, the world's best cupcakes. Some of my best friends from out of town will be attending, so this is your chance to finally check off "Rae" on your Seanan bingo card.

I really hope you can make it, and if you can't, remember that you can contact Borderlands to request a signed/personalized book be set aside for you.

Whee!

ETA: Festivities will begin at 5:00 PM, and continue until 9:00.

Point the first: If you're on Twitter, and either don't watch my Twitter feed or haven't checked in yet this morning, do a search for the #FEEDFriday hashtag. Seriously, this is hammered awesome, in addition to being your opportunity to win some free copies of Feed. Which is pretty cool. They make great gifts! Also great doorstops.

Point the second: While you're enjoying your zombie adventure, maybe you should stop off and take a look at http://www.thefeedbook.com/. Don't worry. I'll wait here for your shrieks of ecstatic glee at how insanely awesome that website is. I'm doing the flaily Muppet arms again. Now with an undead flair. Which...is a little disturbing, really.

Point the third: Yes, I have seen today's XKCD. Sometimes I think the cartoonist is peeking through the windows of me and my friends. And then I realize that no, we're just a type. Scared yet?

Point the fourth: I am almost done with my mind-numbingly massive full-sheet comic page explaining the Campbell Awards and expanding on my eligibility. Vixy and Cat Valente play the part of my lovely assistants, thus sparking the statement "The hardest thing I have left to draw is Cat Valente being eaten by zombies." My life, occasionally so difficult.

Point the fifth: I was in the car with my mother yesterday, and commented that I had purchased my tickets to Australia. The following conversation ensued:

Mom: "And you're coming back with a tiara."
Me: "Well, yes, I hope so, but..."
Mom: "You are."
Me: "Okay."
Mom: "I've been praying every night to the tiara gods."
Me: "...there are tiara gods?"
Mom: "There are now."
Me: "What do those even look like?"
Mom: "I don't know. But they're wearing tiaras."

So apparently I have the backing of the tiara gods in the upcoming race for the Campbell. Thanks to my mother for letting me know about this endorsement. Also, and perhaps more importantly, my mother is insane.

I am currently in studio for my fourth album, titled Wicked Girls. It's my second album recorded at Flowinglass Music, with Kristoph Klover acting as my recording engineer and musical guru. There are going to be sixteen tracks, fourteen original and two covers (one by Dave Carter, one by Brian Gunderson—see if you can guess what they are). Michelle Dockrey appears on thirteen songs. SJ Tucker appears on two. Betsy Tinney appears on three. Amy McNally appears all over the damn place, burning up the floor with her fiddle. And it's going to be...

It's going to be damn amazing.

Vixy was down this past weekend to record her parts for the album, a process that required two days in the studio, and meant I needed to record my lead vocal lines for two songs, to give her something to work against ("Wicked Girls Saving Ourselves" and "How Much Salt?"). Working with her is a joy beyond belief, because we genuinely improve each other. I am a better lyricist for knowing that she's going to play a part in making my work come to life. Several of my better songs—"Wicked Girls," "Missing Part," even "Sycamore Tree"—were written, at least in part, with her voice in mind, either as a lead or backing vocal. I am a better vocalist because I know I have to live up to what she does.

It doesn't hurt that she's, y'know, one of my best friends in the world, and also a good sport about the amount of crazy that Kristoph and I can generate when left to our own devices. We just point her at a microphone and tell her that she's good to go, and wow...wow, does she go. I sit in the booth and I listen, and I rejoice that I have such amazing people in my life.

We listened to the rough playback of "Wicked Girls," totally unmixed, totally raw. Just voices, guitar, cello, fiddle, and djembe wrestling for control. And even without the polish that Kristoph is going to use to turn it into something real, it was...heartbreaking. We both just cried.

I love my recording engineer, and I love my Vixy, and I am going to love this album. I can't wait for you to hear it.

I've been writing structured poetry for most of my life. For the past several years, I've participated in a writing exercise I call "Iron Poet," wherein I request three words and a poetic form, and then write a poem to match the suggestion. (I don't have a round going right now, because I am out of hours in the day. I miss it. But I'm not quite that insane.)

I am honored and delighted to have a vilanelle in the latest issue of Goblin Fruit, an online magazine of speculative poetry. It's titled "Ever After Variations," and you can read it for free by following the link above.

Cabinet des Fees is an online journal of fairy tales. They publish fiction and poetry, essays and interviews, and I am totally over the moon to be interviewed in the latest issue. Another of my poems is reproduced alongside the article, titled "Baba Yaga Said." It's free verse, rather than a strict structure, and I'm quite fond of it. The interview was a joy, and the article is fantastic. Plus, check out this awesome description of me:

"A folklore maven and woman of the beautiful weird, Seanan burst onto the urban fantasy scene last year with Rosemary and Rue, the first book in her October Daye series. As her first series proliferates (Rosemary and Rue was recently joined by A Local Habitation, with An Artificial Night forthcoming in September), Seanan is also writing a year-long American folkpunk piece entitled Sparrow Hill Road at The Edge of Propinquity and has just published Feed, the first part of a zombie politico-thriller trilogy, under the pseudonym Mira Grant. Most of us are quite sure that Seanan never actually sleeps."

I'm folkpunk! Also a woman of the beautiful weird!

Halloweentown princess is go.

First up for today, Stephanie Leary has posted about becoming a fan of my work. This is charming, awesome, and really sweet. I especially appreciate the acknowledgment that my website does not suck. I think she's right in her assessment that we're the same kind of geek, too, which is awesome.

Because it's Feed's bookday, it's also time for some reviews. Unshelved is a web comic about librarians, and, being awesome people, the creators also provide space for book reviews. Well, they've posted a review of Feed, which says "This is smart zombie fiction, a mystery/thriller first and a zombie book second. Add the new media angle and the details of a society as obsessed with tracking infection as governing itself and you have a book that entertains with several different storylines." (They also have a note on who the book is recommended for, which says "Anyone who has discussed what a zombie-proof society would look like with good friends right after a Mountain Dew and Red-Vine fueled zombie movie marathon.") Hee.

Brian at Blog Critics has posted a lengthy review of Feed, and says "These days I am often intrigued by cover blurbs for novels, but rarely surprised by the words within. Mira Grant's novel Feed starts out innocently enough but morphs into a complex, amazingly intelligent, engaging story that kept me reading late into the night a few nights. This is not your average zombie story and easily in the top three books I've read so far in 2010."

Also, and I love this: "The first few chapters serve as an introduction to the Mason siblings' world, innocuously sucking you into liking these quirky characters and the bizarre zombie world they inhabit. It starts slowly as Grant rolls the Trojan Horse through your front gate and sets you up for an emotional thrill ride of politics, espionage, terrorism, and murder. I urge you to let Grant lay her trap. You'll get plenty of zombies, but soon see that the real monsters, just like in our own world, are all too human." Dude, I may need to get that done up in cross-stitch and hang it on my wall. But then, any review that closes with "Honestly, if you only read one book about zombies this year, read Mira Grant's Feed" has my love.

Slamel over at Elitist Book Reviews has posted a review of Feed, and says "Feed was a fun, and unique, ride through the flavor of the year. If we could choose a zombie book to recommend as a final foray into the zombie tropes, it would be Feed." The review is pretty awesome on the whole. I'm pleased.

Finally for right now, Adele over at Unbound tossed me some fantastic interview questions, and has posted her equally fantastic interview. We talk Toby, zombies, filk, and the Black Death, which is always a good way to spend an afternoon. Check it out!

Now we must rinse.

I need to do some .PDF conversion for the Hugo/Campbell Voting Packet. Does anybody out there have the capacity and want to help me out? I can look endearing with the best of them, and may even be able to rustle up some sort of prize, assuming you don't mind risking receipt of, y'know, a bat-shaped hair clip or something.

Also, I'm just about done inputting the receipts for the "save a receipt, win a book" Toby contest, and should have a winner Monday. Tuesday is the official release date of Feed, so if you buy the book on or after this date, remember to save your receipt; I'll be having another contest, this one, hopefully, with less confusion on my end.

Keeping this short—Vixy and I are heading back to Kristoph's for a long, hard, glorious day of recording awesomeocity. So I'll catch you soon!

1) I find it really interesting how many people, when presented with a time travel thought experiment, will proceed to do things that result in their original timeline being immediately and irrevocably destroyed. Time paradox is not a cuddly kitten that you want to bring home and play with! Time paradox is bad! Remember, kids, friends don't let friends mess around with the laws of time.

2) Books I have read and loved lately: I Am Not A Serial Killer. Saltation. Freaks: Alive On the Inside (which I found at the used bookstore, signed!). Unshelved: Volume I.

3) Books I have written and loved lately: Deadline. The Brightest Fell. This is a much shorter list, and that's a good thing, because it means I probably haven't actually sold my soul to the devil. Much.

4) I love superheroes. I love Disney. I love these Disney heroines presented in glorious super-heroic style. I especially love the zombified Snow White. This is because I am, in many ways, predictable, and I am not ashamed of that fact. Not in the slightest. Nor do I think I should be, really, as my predictability makes me easy to shop for.

5) Lilly and Alice have figured out that, together, they now possess sufficient mass and surface area to prevent me from moving when they don't want me to move. This is fine when I have a book with me and nothing in the oven, but other times...not so fine. In other news, the house did not burn down, although it was a somewhat close thing. And it wasn't my fault.

6) What he said.

7) This looks like it's going to be an amazing season for movies. My favorite so far this year are How to Train Your Dragon and Kick-Ass, with The Crazies coming in as a close third, but oh! The glories ahead! Nightmare on Elm Street, Iron Man 2, Prince of Persia, Shrek Forever After, and Letters to Juliet! Splice! Even Resident Evil: Afterlife, because my love for the franchise outweighs my scars from the third movie. What a wonderful thing a movie ticket can be.

8) I appear to be thinking in almost purely short fiction terms right now, as I recover from finishing Deadline and tackle the trickier bits of The Brightest Fell. So far this week, I've finished two Toby shorts, started a third, finished an InCryptid short, and started my story for an invite-only anthology. I'm hoping I can even get a Vel piece shoved in somewhere, before the steam runs out.

9) Guess what I get tomorrow. I get a Vixy. Do you get a Vixy? No, you do not. I am not much of a gloater, but right now? Right now, oh, I'm gonna gloat. Because I get a Vixy. Of my very own.

10) Jean Grey is dead, James Gunn needs to call me, and zombies are love.

Yes! I have the sign-off, and the second book in the Newsflesh trilogy, Deadline, has been sent safely off to my publisher, where it can be someone else's problem for a little while. (Note that this doesn't actually mean the book is in its final form, since Orbit has the right to request changes and edits—I made changes and edits to Feed after it had been turned in—but I become a much happier bunny after it's slammed down on my editor's virtual desk. That means I made my deadline. I win)

Final book stats:

149,142 words.
513 pages.
Twenty-seven chapters.

I love finishing the process of finishing a book (and yes, that sentence is supposed to look like that; finishing things is hard). It lets me fall in love all over again. I talk about writing books like it's building a house. Revisions are what happen when the house is flawed, and needs to be torn down and built back up again. But finishing is just going through and making it a showplace, ready to be shown off to the world. The heavy lifting is done, and suddenly the book...the book is just amazing all over again. It's a book.

If there's any point during the process where I am totally uncritical of myself, it's this moment, right here. Don't worry, it will pass.

Now I get to settle in and work on the third book in the trilogy, and then...then I'm done. All finished, no more effort, no more struggle, just done. I love these people. I've loved them for years. I hope that when you meet them, you'll love them, too. But for now, I'm turning it in.

Yay.

The finished copies of Feed landed on my doorstep yesterday afternoon, where they were promptly rescued from the rain by my mother, who was over at the house doing basic kitchen maintenance (oh, how the cats hate her and her sloshy, sloshy mop). They are...I mean, they're even prettier than the ARC, which I didn't think was possible. The covers are done in this amazing combination of matte and semi-gloss that makes the blood really pop, and they're eye-catching and utterly bleak at the same time. Orbit did a really incredible job with them. I am awed.

Time between opening the box and my mother stealing a copy: Under five minutes. At least she's consistent...

In honor of the arrival of the finished copies, and the oncoming release of the book itself (the light at the end of the tunnel isn't a train, it's a flamethrower), I've been making updates to MiraGrant.com. In addition to moving the Horror Movie FAQ to its new home (it was replaced on my main site by the Fairy Tale Survival FAQ), I've added some very important facts about Mira Grant that you should know. Not convinced of the raw danger that you face when you taunt my evil alter-ego? Take a gander at the full list of warnings. These were taken from your suggestions, and they should hopefully do a little to prepare the public for the danger that's to come.

In slightly less silly news, the first batch of icons and desktop wallpapers has been added to the site for you to use and enjoy! Tara really knocked herself out on these, and was aided by Lauren at Orbit, who was awesome enough to let her work from the original cover graphic source. I couldn't be more pleased. Check it out—I bet you'll be pretty pleased, too.

When will you rise?