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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

So Kate swears that I'm the creepiest thing going at any length less than thirty pages (I suppose because when I'm working under thirty pages, I don't have time for the why-porn to really saturate whatever it is I'm writing). Now's your opportunity to find out if she's right, because "The Tolling of Pavlov's Bells" will be appearing in the January issue of Apex Magazine.

YOU GUYS YOU GUYS I SOLD "PAVLOV'S"!!!! THE STORY WITH LIKE ONLY THE MOST TIPTREE TITLE EVER!!!!

...in case you can't tell, I'm pleased.

"Pavlov's" is the middle piece in what I view as my mad science triptych. The other two pieces are "Laughter at the Academy: A Field Study in the Development of Schizotypal Creative Genius Personality Disorder," and "Apocalypse Scenario #683: The Box." (No, you can't read the other two yet; I'm hoping you'll be able to eventually, I just need to get there.) They're sort of my id/ego/super-ego of mad science, and now that they're all written, maybe I can get it out of my head for a little while.

Ha. Ha. Ha. No, really.

But anyway: I finally found a home for "The Tolling of Pavlov's Bells," and it's a totally cool home, and I couldn't be more pleased. And if I ever do a short story collection, the odds are good that it'll be called The Tolling of Pavlov's Bells, so publishing the title story is always a good maneuver.

Mad science, killer viruses, and all that other good stuff can be yours in just one short month! You're welcome.

I'm a Zombie Girl,
In a Zombie wo-oo-orld,
I'm decaying,
But I'm staying!

Out of mercy to the sensitive souls among you, I will stop there. See how merciful I can be? When I remember that other people don't necessarily enjoy cannibalism before breakfast? Then again, when one is attempting to build a better pain chart (thank you, Hyperbole and a Half), sometimes it's necessary to find out where the limits are.

I'm in a very Mira mood today, maybe because it's gray and raining, maybe because my weekend is like a katamari, and full of things, and maybe because, drullroll please...

FEED is a 2010 Romantic Times Reviewers' Choice Nominee in the Science Fiction Category! (For a slightly more compact ballot, focusing on the paranormal and science fiction nominees, check this link.)

I am, like, crazy-excited over this, because this is a really big deal. The Romantic Times Reviewers' Choice Awards are a great bellwether of quality and awesomeness, and this is my first time appearing on the ballot. I'm truly, totally jazzed. So, y'know. Fingers crossed and the apocalypse doesn't come!

PANDEMIC DANCE PARTY FOR EVERYBODY!

Publishers Weekly has released their list of the Best Books of 2010. Including their selections for the best science fiction, fantasy, and horror.

Feed made the list.

I am genuinely overjoyed. It's also a nice change from focusing on trying to breathe without hacking up a lung, that having been my previous activity for the morning. I wrote one of the Best Books of 2010! OH MY SWEET GREAT PUMPKIN AND PIE.

This isn't very coherent, in part because I don't have it in me to be coherent right now. Mostly, I just have it in me to be flailing wildly, and totally ecstatic.

Squee.

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 )

The other day, I was in Safeway—buying Diet Dr Pepper, naturally—when I heard the guy up ahead of me say something to his friends that I was positive I must have misheard. Specifically, what I heard him say was "and there's this really awesome parasitic wasp that drives its victims like cars." Now, I like parasitic wasps. I am, one might say, unduly fascinated by parasitic wasps. So I tend to assume that when I hear other people bring them up in conversation, I'm hearing them wrong.

I began shamelessly eavesdropping...and wonder of wonders, miracle of miracles, he was talking about insect parasitism! Yay! As the conversation swung toward blood flukes, I interjected to note that blood flukes were probably largely responsible for the evolution of gendered reproduction. He looked, in a word, delighted.

What followed was the largest, rowdiest, happiest discussion of parasite behavior I have ever been involved with outside of a group of my friends. All five of the people involved had read Parasite Rex, and parthenogentic reproduction came up, gleefully.

I think I may have met my male equivalent from a nearby parallel dimension.

I'm just saying.

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.

Current stats:

Words: 6,330.
Total words: 145,067.
Reason for stopping: The book is over, long live the book.
Music: the Deadline play list and random shuffle.
Lilly and Alice: the tan cat tree and the orange cat tree, respectively.

First draft stats:

Pages: 498
Chapters: twenty-seven, plus a coda
Started: July 26, 2008
Finished: February 20, 2010

Feed took from September 2005 to December 2007 to write—roughly twenty-seven months. Deadline took me nineteen months to write. This is a good learning curve, and hopefully means that I can write Blackout in eleven months (hey, a girl can dream, right?). These are monster-length books, especially when compared to my normal, conservative "101,000 to 112,000 words" word count volumes. But they're necessary words. These books aren't padded at all. They're the length they are because that's the length they need to be.

And it means we get to spend more time together. I really miss and mourn my books when they're finished, and yeah, draft two gets to happen now, but draft two isn't the same. Draft two is about smoothing out the continuity, fixing the pacing, and picking up any dropped threads. Book three is where I get to start making things up again.

I'm amazed and shaky and a little off-balance. I am now going to go eat ice cream and watch Cabin Fever 2 (bought for just this occasion).

Jim is having deep thoughts about piracy. I am having deep thoughts about mucus.

Mindy is having deep thoughts about reviewing, some of which feed into my own pending post on the subject. I am having deep thoughts about NyQuil.

Many people are having deep and insightful thoughts on many deep and insightful things. I am trapped in a life-or-death battle with a stupid head cold, and while I know I'll win, I'm not going to be happy for a while here.

I'm going to take The Demon in the Freezer and Virus X for comfort reading and go back to bed now.

Too sick to die.

So I have a reporter from the Contra Costa Times coming over this afternoon to interview me and take some pictures for a local author profile piece. This is pretty cool. I've never been profiled in the newspaper before. We've cleaned the whole house (for values of "we" that mean "mostly my mother"), my room is slightly less of an EPA hazard zone than usual, and the cats have been thoroughly lectured on not throwing up in front of the cameraman. After a great deal of discussion, I have agreed to the following list of Things Seanan Isn't Allowed To Discuss With the Reporter (unless she starts it):

1. The Black Death.
2. Parasites.
3. How parasites caused us to evolve gender.
4. Endemic bubonic plague in California's ground squirrels.
5. The X-Men.
6. Crazy Australian mermaid shows.
7. Anything involving venom.
8. Dinosaurs.
9. The inevitability of the zombie apocalypse.
10. Anything that involves socially unacceptable hand gestures.
11. The ineffective nature of H1N1 as a slatewiper pandemic.
12. How my pandemic would be better.
13. Pandemics, period.
14. My collection of My Little Ponies.
15. My collection of plush weaponry.
16. My collection of plush viruses.
17. Banana slugs.
18. How to evolve a society of pseudo-mammal telepaths from parasitic wasps.
19. Why you would want to do that in the first place.
20. Giant squid.
21. Reality television.
22. Bedbug reproduction.
23. Anything Kate won't let me talk about during dinner.
24. Necrosis.
25. The slow conversion of aspartame into formaldehyde.
26. Monkeyspheres.
27. The fact that the turtle couldn't help us.
28. My limited and specialized knowledge of ASL.
29. The virtues of the machete vs. the meat cleaver.
30. That vial of liquid mercury I bought at a garage sale.
31. Tarantulas.
32. Cheese.
33. Jerusalem crickets.
34. What I did last summer.
35. The vast disparity between women's "appropriate" weight and the things women eat in television commercials.
36. Evil Dead: the Musical.
37. Why you should turn to cannibalism immediately when stranded on a desert island.
38. Kuru.
39. Flensing.
40. Parthenogenic reproduction.
41. Reasons to go crawling around in a sewer.
42. Observing autopsies.
43. Why yoga is better with Rob Zombie.
44. SyFy Original Movies.
45. The drinking games that accompany same.
46. Why I went to Waverly Place last time I was in Manhattan.
47. Pie.
48. Pi.
49. Structured poetry.
50. People as an available source of protein.

Or, well, a message from one of my many editors. In this case, Jennifer Brozek, one of the editors from Grants Pass:

"Members of the HWA may recommend the anthology "Grants Pass" edited by Amanda Pillar and Jennifer Brozek to the Stoker Committee for its consideration in the anthology category. It is currently tied for sixth place. The short list has only five slots. We need at least three more recommendations to get into that top five nominations. Active and Associate HWA members may recommend, while only Active HWA members may vote in the final ballot. I am happy to send out a PDF of the GRANTS PASS anthology for HWA members' consideration. All recommendations must be received by January 15th on the official HWA site."

So there you go. If you belong to the Horror Writers of America, and would like to consider Grants Pass for inclusion on the Stoker ballot, please feel free to contact jennifer_brozek to request a .PDF of the book. It really is an excellent anthology, and I had a fantastic time with my story ("Animal Husbandry," which involves plague).

Thanks, all.

'Twas the night before Christmas, and all through my mind
Were hitchhiking ghost-girls and struggles unkind,
And fairy tale murders and pandemic flu—
My friends hope my holiday dreams won't come true—

And Tara has finished the graphics so fine
To help and promote that new novel of mine
(The sequel to something you just might have read,
With Toby and Tybalt and new things to dread).

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

Two thousand and nine is a year nearly through!
Oh, the things that we did, and the things left to do!
I'm still with the agent who signed me last year,
She still knows I'm crazy, and yet she's still here.

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

In March, Habitation, in May, you'll get Feed
(My evil twin, Mira, knows just what you need),
While "Sparrow Hill Road" will take twelve months to drive,
And Rose knows that nobody gets out alive.

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

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

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

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

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

There has once again been a massive influx of people, due to the fact that Alice is adorable—welcome, massive influx of people; it's nice to meet you, although I realize half of you will leave again as you realize that this isn't the all-kitten-doing-weird-stuff, all-the-time channel, and that's fine—I have decided to once again do the abbreviated "here are ten things you might want to know" version of the periodic welcome post. So here it is. Ta-da! (As a footnote, Alice is aware of your worship, and was puffy all over my face at 2AM last night.)

***

1. My name is Seanan McGuire; I'm an author, musician, poet, cartoonist, and amiable nutcase, presently living in Northern California, planning to relocate to Washington at some point in the next few years. I am a very chatty person, whether you're talking literally "we're in the same place" chattiness, or more abstract "someone has left Seanan alone with a keyboard, run for the hills" chattiness. This does not, paradoxically, make me terribly good about keeping up with email or answering comments in anything that resembles a reasonable fashion. We all have our flaws. Luckily for my agent's sanity, I am very good about making my deadlines.

2. My name is pronounced "SHAWN-in", although a great many people elect to pronounce it "SHAWN-anne" instead. Either is fine with me. I went to an event where we all got name tags once, and the person making the name tags was a "SHAWN-anne" person, who proceeded to label me as "Shawn Anne McGuire". I choose to believe that Shawn Anne is my alter-ego from a universe where, instead of becoming an author, I chose to become a country superstar. She wears a great many rhinestones, because they're sparkly, and she can get away with it. Just don't call me "See-an-an" and we'll be fine.

3. I write: urban fantasy, horror, young adult, supernatural romance, and straight chick-lit romance. I occasionally threaten to write medical thrillers, but everyone knows that's just so I'd have an excuse to take more epidemiology courses. I love me a good plague. I believe that editing is a full-contact sport, complete with penalty boxes, illegal checking, and team pennants. My editing team is the Fighting Pumpkins. We're going all the way to the WORLD CHAMPIONSHIPS this year, bay-bee!

4. I find it useful to keep a record of the status of my various projects, both because it warms the little Type-A cockles of my heart, and because it helps people who need to know what's going on know, well, what's going on. So you'll see word counts and editing updates go rolling by if you stick around, as well as more generalized complaining about the behavior of fictional people. I am told this is entertaining. I am also told that this is possibly a sign of madness. I don't know.

5. I currently publish both as myself, and as my own evil twin, Mira Grant. My first book under my own name, Rosemary and Rue [Amazon]|[Mysterious Galaxy], came out from DAW in September 2009. The sequel, A Local Habitation [Amazon]|[Mysterious Galaxy], is coming out in March 2010, also from DAW. Mira's first book, Feed [Amazon]|[Mysterious Galaxy], will be out from Orbit in May 2010. I don't get very much sleep.

6. I am a musician! More specifically, I'm a filk musician. If you know filk, this statement makes total sense. If you don't know filk, think "the folk music of the science fiction and fantasy community"—or you can check out the music FAQ on my website. I have three CDs available: Pretty Little Dead Girl, Stars Fall Home, and Red Roses and Dead Things. I'm currently recording a fourth CD, Wicked Girls, which will be out sometime in 2010. I write mostly original material, and don't spend much time in ParodyLand. It just doesn't work out for me.

7. Things I find absolutely enthralling: giant squid. Plush dinosaurs. Siamese and Maine Coon cats. Zombies. The plague. Pandemic flu. Horror movies of all quality levels. Horror television. Science Fictional Channel Original Movies. Shopping for used books. Halloween. Marvel comics. Candy corn. Carnivorous plants. Pumpkin cake. Stephen King. The Black Death. Pandemic disease of all types. Learning how to say horrifying things in American Sign Language. Diet Dr Pepper.

8. Things I find absolutely horrifying: slugs. Big spiders dropping down from the ceiling and landing on me because ew. Bell peppers. Rice. Movies that consist largely of car chases and do not contain a satisfying amount of carnage. Animal cruelty. People who go hiking on mountain trails in Northern California and freak out over a little rattlesnake. Most sitcoms. A large percentage of modern advertising. Diet Chocolate Cherry Dr Pepper.

9. I am owned by two cats: a classic bluepoint Siamese named Lillian Kane Moskowitz Munster McGuire, and a blue classic tabby and white Maine Coon named Alice Price-Healy Little Liddel Abernathy McGuire. Yes, I call them that, usually when they've been naughty. The rest of the time, they're respectively "Lilly" or "Lil," and either "Alice" or "Ally." I'm planning to get a Sphynx, eventually, when the time comes to expand to having a third cat.

10. I frequently claim to be either a Disney Halloweentown princess or Marilyn Munster. These claims are more accurate than most people realize. Although I wasn't animated in Pasadena.

***

Welcome!

October 3rd is World Virus Appreciation Day, the holiday where we celebrate the wonders of the virological world. If it wants to kill you, today's the day to rejoice in its existence...or at least to be glad that you don't have it. Yet.

I love the existence of this holiday, and—after considerable consideration—have decided that this year, once again, I'm going to celebrate my favorite virus of them all. No, not the Black Death, although it holds a truly special place in my heart. I mean Kellis-Amberlee, the hybrid virus created when the Kellis Flu met up with Marburg Amberlee, fell in love, and started having little zombie-making babies.

Yes, it's a fake virus. No, I don't care, because not only have I spent the last several years working on the virology behind Kellis-Amberlee, but it's been responsible for my learning more about real-world viruses than anyone outside the fields of epidemiology or virology ever needed to know. Seriously! Kellis-Amberlee was created sloppily and in about five minutes; it was refined over the course of almost two years, and involved auditing epidemiology and virology courses, talking to doctors from the CDC, and reading most of a library on infectious diseases.

Because of Kellis-Amberlee, I've learned about cholera (nasty), pandemic flu (actually nastier), Ebola (scary), and yellow fever (scariest bitch on the block). Before I started work on Feed, all I knew about smallpox was that we were missing a bunch of it, and that was probably bad; now I know exactly why that's bad. Miraculously, I sleep pretty well at night despite this knowledge.

I love viruses and diseases. I love Kellis-Amberlee. And today, I love World Virus Appreciation Day. Remember, if I sneeze, it's only because a droplet-based transmission is another way of saying "I love you."

Hey, guys. I realize I've been as scarce as a quality script in a box of direct-to-video horror franchise installments, but I have a totally valid excuse: namely, the plague. I came down with a cold on Tuesday morning that I thought was in the "spend a day in bed and be all better" category, and turned out to be in the "have no memory of Wednesday or Thursday, don't start feeling human again until Sunday morning" category. Seriously, it was just a cold, but I haven't felt this bad due to an infectious agent in years. I wasn't even together enough to whine about the speed of viral amplification. It was scary. Amy arrived Friday morning, and says, of my condition, "You'd just crawled out of a somnolent alien slime pod."

See? I was too sick to even remember being abducted by the aliens! My germs have all the fun. Anyway...

Rebecca at Dirty Sexy Books—which you may remember posted a truly awesome review of Rosemary and Rue, saying, "I predict that this new series will be an urban fantasy powerhouse"—was kind enough to let me come back for a really fun and funny interview. I'm really enjoying the opportunity to do interviews around the Internet, especially since everybody keeps coming up with such different questions. (Questions I have yet to get, sadly: "How do you say your name?" "Do you really sleep with a chainsaw?" "What was the cause of the Black Death?")

Meanwhile, Erin (of Erin-Go-Blog!) decided to go ahead and throw her two cents into the ring, with a rockin' Rosemary and Rue review. Erin says...

"Seanan McGuire's first novel, Rosemary and Rue, is for anyone who has ever believed in faeries, for anyone who has ever wished to step into a wardrobe and out into a world that is magical and every bit as real as our own."

...and...

"If you like paranormal fiction, grown-up faerie tales, urban fantasy, tight prose, well-drawn worlds and characters, sarcasm, murder mysteries, or any combination thereof, pick up Rosemary and Rue. You won’t be disappointed."

Yay, Erin!

It's not a review roundup without a LiveJournal review, and today, markbernstein is filling that role, with his thoughtful and considerate review of Rosemary and Rue. Mark says...

"The things that most matter to me in a book, that draw me in if done well, are world building, characterization, and humor. McGuire is strong in all of those areas."

...and...

"Rosemary and Rue is about more than the detective plot. It's about re-establishing connections, dealing with guilt, and (to steal a phrase from the book) finding the way home. This adds a depth, a feeling of meaning, that far too many series books lack."

Closing out tonight's review roundup, we have Doug at Sci-Fi Guy, posting his fabulous and shiny Rosemary and Rue review for the consideration of the world at large. Doug says...

"Rosemary and Rue has a rich undercurrent of menace and constant threat of implied violence in its' portrayal of the fae creatures and customs that creates an atmosphere ripe with tension that perfectly complements the action. The fae world is a harsh one and the life of the Changelings even more so. Toby's pursuit of the truth is relentless and I can't remember the last time a main character was put to the test with such fervor. The central mystery and final outcome has enough surprises and twists and turns to satisfy serious mystery buffs."

Swoon. Also...

"Rosemary and Rue also has a delightfully fresh narrative voice. Every page has interesting turns of phrase and observations. It would have been easy to select dozens of quotations to share. The writing style alone would have been enough to keep me turning pages."

...oh, and...

"Rosemary and Rue is a startlingly good debut novel and destined for my top 10 list for 2009."

...and...

"With a dark, edgy mystery, plenty of magic and mayhem, humor and horror, Rosemary and Rue has something for everyone."

It is my considerable pleasure, absolute delight, and no small amount of awed bafflement, to announce that the Mason trilogy has been sold in a three book deal to Orbit, with concurrent publication by Orbit UK. They will be published beginning in 2010, with Feed (working title: Newsflesh) coming out sometime mid-year. All three books will be published under the name "Mira Grant," my shiny new open pseudonym. I have a pseudonym and a horror series. You have absolutely no concept of how much this makes me feel like Stephen King right now.

We sold the Mason books. Alive or dead, the truth won't rest.

Rise up while you can.

(PS: Please don't ask "why the title change" or "why the pseudonym" on this post. I'll post explaining both when I get over sitting here looking stunned and giggling to myself.)

Don't be afraid of the pandemic flu;
Just take a few precautions, if you please.
There's plenty of things anybody can do,
Like covering your nose before you sneeze.

Please wash your hands with water and soap
Before you touch your dishes or your food.
Keeping things clean will help us to cope,
And careless virus vectors are just rude.

SPOKEN: "Viruses and bacteria are two different things. Antibacterial soap won't reduce your likelihood of catching the flu any more than plain soap, and may cause bacterial resistance. Stick with nice, plain soap."

( Water is good, you should drink it a lot...Collapse )

The release of Grants Pass is fast approaching, and the first reviews of the anthology as a whole are starting to be released into the wild. Did I get name-checked as being a slice of awesome from a sweet, sweet pandemic pie? Why yes. Yes, it would appear that I did.

(Me to Brooke: "Look!"
Brooke to me: "Should I be surprised that you excel at plague?")

This book is going to be so cool, and not just because it has a truly epic body count. I'm really excited about the author list, and Jennifer has been a treat to work with. Plus, I essentially hinted my way into getting an invitation ("It's about pandemics? Gosh, what a coincidence. I like pandemics..."), so it's nice to see that I won't be dragging her nice little story collection down.

Meet me in Grants Pass, if you can.

( And now, to encourage you to show up, a poem.Collapse )

Item the first: at least four—yes, four, which is a number higher than two, so yay—reviewers/bookstores have received their ARCs of Rosemary and Rue, along with the snazzy watercolor cards that Alice so helpfully "helped" me finish. Thank you, Alice. Thank you so very, very much. (As an Alice-related sub-item, my puffy Halloween ball of trouble turned twenty weeks old yesterday, and celebrated her failure to get sucked into the vacuum cleaner by falling off the cat tree. Again. Maine Coons, unlike boa constrictors, have gravity.)

Item the second: Mercedes Lackey and Larry Dixon will not be attending BayCon this year, due to being really, really sick. Nobody's dying, I don't have all the details, and also, I didn't do it. If I were going to start the pandemic, there are other people I'd target first, and I'd have published my cackling manifesto by now. "Yay, swine flu!" does not count as a cackling manifesto, it counts as a really weird idea of what constitutes entertainment.

Item the third: speaking of entertainment, Kate and I watched the season finales for two of our season-pass shows last night—America's Next Top Model and Fringe. (Never let it be said that I am ashamed of my taste in anything.) One of the girls on this season of ANTM was totally a Toby-universe Daoine Sidhe, I swear. Real people aren't supposed to have ElfQuest eyes, but she somehow managed to pull it off. I will miss you, freaky alien-elf-eyed girl! Although I won't miss the nightmares you gave me about Toby tracking me down with a pair of pliers and a smile!

Item the fourth: So You Think You Can Dance returns to television tomorrow night. In supposedly unrelated news, I'm getting ready to get back to work on Discount Armageddon. Hmmmm...

Item the fifth: Dawn Metcalf to the white courtesy phone, dawn_metcalf to the white courtesy phone. It has now been forty-eight hours, and I still don't have a mailing address for you. If I don't hear from you within the next twenty-four hours, I will be choosing a new winner for the signed cover flat of Rosemary and Rue. In actually related news, the poetry contest to win an ARC of Rosemary and Rue is still going. Please drop by and vote, if you haven't already.

Item the sixth: I am still the Rain King.

My flight from SFO was both exceedingly eventful and completely uneventful, which is always a fun combination (I'll explain in a second). I was flying Northwest—despite having originally thought that I was flying American, which, it turns out, is actually my airline for DucKon; this is why I try to stick with Virgin America whenever possible—out of SFO. "Northwest out of SFO" is another way of saying "Northwest out of the Torture Terminal." Seriously. There is one crappy coffee shop at the end of the terminal, and there are way more passengers than seats. Pretty much everyone who was taking my flight had to stand until they let us on the plane.

I had a Rice Krispie Treat and a Diet Coke for breakfast. This is how dire the terminal was. I did, however, see a woman with an electric orange and green messenger bag while I was going through security, and I was able to catch up with her to go "I covet that, where did you get it?" Turns out she got it from Timbuk2 in San Francisco, which will make you a bag in any color combination you want. They're not cheap, but I now have a total target for the next time I decide to splurge on something.

(Last year, I splurged and bought an iPod. This year, I splurged and bought a kitten. Next year, who knows? I am the worst impulse shopper in the world—I actually schedule my impulse buys a month in advance.)

On the plane, I was seated next to a very tall woman from Canada. I asked where in Canada, which turned out to be the perfect conversation starter, because we chattered for three hours. Want proof that I exist in a reality-warp? She's works in pandemic planning and preparedness. Seriously! (It wasn't until much later that either of us realized that maybe discussing immunodepressant smallpox, the Black Death, pandemic flu, and how many bodies you can fit in a hockey rink could have gotten us reported as international terrorists. I swear we're not, Homeland Security Monitor Guy. We're just weird.)

My hotel is small, cozy, and conveniently close to downtown. Since I woke up at seven this morning—jet lag? What's that?—being able to go and get a salad and a soda before most of the world was awake was a real blessing. I also found Borders store number one, and bought Queen of Babble Gets Hitched and In the Forest of Hands and Teeth for the flight home. (Did I read everything I brought already? Yes, I did. I swear, my reading speed accounts for more frantic bookstore visits than I like to think about.)

I will now go put on my Disney Halloweentown Princess Pants and get ready for my business meetings, which should be interesting (they always are). And then I meet with Jim and fly on home. I'll be trying to finish Late Eclipses on the plane. So...close...

Catch you soon!

Dear Great Pumpkin;

I have continued to be a very good girl in the days since I last wrote to you. I have provided places for tired people to sleep, liquids for thirsty people to drink, and food for hungry people to eat. I have shared my ice cream and my candy corn. I did not spike the liquids for the thirsty people with interesting poisons. I have purchased and erected a cat tree so virulently orange that it sears the eyes of the unbelievers. I have not summoned the elder gods from their eternal dreaming. I have not purchased a chainsaw. Also, the swine flu isn't my fault. So clearly, I have been on my very best behavior for quite some time now.

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

* Freedom from typos, printing errors, and other plagues of the written word. Please, Great Pumpkin, guide my red pen through my page proofs and allow me to present Rosemary and Rue as the best book that it can possibly be. Please let all the errors be mine, and let them be reasonably small ones, so that I won't be forced to throw myself on my own machete. That would make me sad. Also, that would be messy.

* Wonderful author appearances, following a fantastic convention season. DucKon is approaching fast, Great Pumpkin, and so is the San Diego Comic Convention, which I'm going to be attending in full-on Disney Halloween Princess-mode. After that comes WorldCon in Montreal, and after that...after that, my book comes out, and I'm doing signings and raffles and all sorts of other things, many of them for the first time. Help me represent the orange, black, and green with honor, with dignity, and without overdosing on candy corn.

* Continued health for my cats. I have to admit, Great Pumpkin, you came through big time with that whole "perfect kitten" thing that I asked you for. I was dubious at first, since "Maine Coon" and "Siamese" are not the same thing, but Alice is amazing, and has won Lilly over completely, which is really what matters. (And if you think I don't know you had a hand in this, you're out of your gourd. So to speak. Betsy hasn't had a blue in years, and don't think I missed those smoky orange undertones. You are a very cunning supernatural force. I bow before the sanctity of your patch.)

* The perfect house for Newsflesh, wherein the Mason twins deal with politics, the Internet, blogging, dead stuff, each other, and their completely insane co-workers as efficiently and politely as possible. "Polite" usually means "with bullets and bitching." If you give me this, Great Pumpkin, I promise you at least three more short stories featuring the Fighting Pumpkins cheerleading squad, and another Velveteen adventure involving the denizens of Halloween. If you give me a trilogy sale, I'll actually do the origin stories for Hailey and Scaredy.

* A lack of total meltdown over this swine flu thing. I know it's not the slatewiper pandemic, Great Pumpkin, because you would never do that to me this close to my first book's release date. So clearly, this is just a minor plague, meant to remind the world that we need to wash our hands more often. Please let people remember to wash their hands and cover their mouths and take deep breaths (okay, maybe not that last one), so that we can get through this without anybody setting anybody else on fire.

* My galleys. Please let them come today, Great Pumpkin, as my twitchiness is beginning to bother people. I think some of them are becoming concerned that I may destroy the planet in a fit of pique, and frankly, I share their concern. Please, Great Pumpkin, help me to leave enough of the world's population alive to properly honor you on the next Halloween.

I remain your faithful Halloween girl,
Seanan.

PS: You did an amazing job with the cover thing. Thank you so much.

Me: I believe I shall revise this chapter.
LE: I believe I shall kick your ass.
Me: I'm the author, I get to win.
LE: *chuckles evilly*

(Eighty pages and a lot of profane language later, there's blood on the ceiling, and slaughtered adjectives litter the carpet like, um, thingy.)

Me: I HATE YOU SO HARD.
LE: I'm better now.
Me: ...what?
LE: I'm a better book now.
Me: ...why the hell couldn't you cooperate if this was the end result?
LE: Because it's more fun this way.

(Cue more insensate swearing. Fade to black.)

In other news, work on the fourth Toby book continues apace -- yes, I'm aware that the first book doesn't come out until September; remember, my life goals include "turn in the second trilogy by the end of 2010," because that's just the way I roll -- and is only causing me small amounts of severe physical, mental, and emotional trauma. I'm busting ass now, while I can, before the promo for Rosemary and Rue kicks into such high gear that I don't have brain anymore.

Late Eclipses has lost three words from its title, four thousand words from its text, and two chapters from its numbering system, and it's better for these subtractions. It is gradually becoming a lean, mean, causing-me-pain machine.

Now, television, tuna sandwiches, art card inking, and the eventual sleep of the just. Good night, y'all. Don't burn down the internet.

February 22nd -- yesterday -- was the official 'release' date for Ravens in the Library, a benefit anthology to benefit S.J. Tucker following sudden, unexpected medical bills. (Yesterday was also, coincidentally, Sooj's birthday. Wonder how those two dates wound up synching up so closely...) Ravens features stories by twenty-five authors, some of whom are household names, some of whom ought to be household names, and some of whom are going to be household names if they have anything to say about the matter. I've read two of the original-to-this-volume stories, as well as several of the reprints, and I've seen some of the original interior art. This is going to be an amazing book.

Illnesses and technical issues during the layout process (read 'our editors came down with the plague' -- I DIDN'T DO IT) delayed delivery to the printer slightly, and the book's first run (comprising pre-orders and a few extra) is now at press. Barring issues with the printing, it should be flying out of that aerie in about two weeks, and landing on doorsteps everywhere. Everywhere that's ordered a copy, anyway.

To clarify one question I've seen asked several times now, yes, the book is still available for order. It will be print-on-demand when the initial 'print run' has been exhausted; how long that takes will depend somewhat on how many orders are received. Not available in any store, etc., etc. You know the drill by now!

On a more personal note...Ravens in the Library was the second anthology I was ever invited to be a part of (the first being Grants Pass, which will be out in July, from Morrigan Books). It was also the first anthology where the editors actually sought me out to invite me to participate. I am thrilled beyond all words to be a part of this project -- if, as various people have joked, writing were an RPG, this would represent leveling up my Anthology Writer character class. It makes me a little giddy. I can't wait to get my hands on this book. If you like anthologies at all, neither can you.

Words within our grasp: do we let go?
Do we fly heavily with the weight of what we know?
Words within our grasp: do we let go?
Do we fly heavily with what we know?

-- 'Ravens in the Library,' S.J. Tucker.

So let's pause a moment. It's January 20th. I'm about to be the Guest of Honor at a truly awesome convention. My first novel comes out this year. I have stories appearing in two upcoming anthologies, one of which is going to help a dear friend in her time of need, the other of which involves wiping out the bulk of mankind. Researchers have sequenced the 1918 flu, because we know that never ends badly. Multiple awesome horror movies are slated for release. I have already been part of a mad-awesome concert. I spent New Year's Eve watching Freakylinks on the Chiller channel. This should have been sufficient proof that 2009 was, in fact, my year. It has been manufactured entirely for me.

Don't worry. I'll share. And that's a good thing, because here's some more awesome from 2009:

Scientists have discovered what they say is a completely unexpected new giant dinosaur that lived 70 million years ago in Argentina. Meet our new buddy, Austroraptor cabazai. He was the largest raptor ever known. I mean, five meters of raptor? That's a lot of massively predatory dinosaur coming for your tasty flesh, buddy. Thanks, Argentina! Also, as this is a totally new dinosaur -- relatively speaking -- it hasn't been on Primeval, and I'm allowed to have one. Hooray!

Oh, and also? The Black Death has reportedly killed at least forty al-Qaeda operatives in North Africa. Now, they're talking about bubonic plague here, which, as everyone knows by now, I do not believe was the cause of the Black Death. But they're so vague about the details that it could just be something cheerfully making itself look like the bubonic plague. PS: if this is actually the Black Death, and is actually a virus, rather than something bacterial, we're all going to die. So 2009 might also be the end of the human race.

I am okay with that, because this is awesome.

Researchers have found out what made the 1918 flu pandemic so deadly. Because that's always a good idea. Basically, there's a three-gene sequence which tells the virus go 'you know what? The upper respiratory tract is dull. Let's go have a party in the lungs!' This leads to pneumonia, which leads to death. And since it's viral pneumonia, rather than bacterial pneumonia, it's both droplet-based and unperturbed by silly little things like antibiotics. Whee!

To quote the article: "The three genes -- called PA, PB1, and PB2 -- along with a 1918 version of the nucleoprotein or NP gene, made modern seasonal flu kill ferrets in much the same way as the original 1918 flu, Kawaoka's team found." Now. Maybe I'm being a little silly here, but does building a better flu really sound like a good idea? To anybody? I've read The Stand. I don't feel like moving to Colorado. I love pandemics in history and in theory, but I'd really rather not have 'They Fucked Around With Flu' stamped on mankind's collective tombstone.

In other news, small boys still hold firecrackers in their bare hands, because maybe this time, it's going to go differently.

'Twas the night before Christmas, and all through my head
Were hitchhiking ghost-girls and hungry undead,
And dinosaurs dancing and pandemic flu --
My friends hope my holiday dreams won't come true --

And Chris in his wisdom has finished the notes
Containing Bill's art and the songs that I wrote
To go with the album we're printing with care
(Red Roses and Dead Things, a spooky affair).

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

Two thousand and eight is a year nearly done,
But we spent it quite well, and we had lots of fun.
I signed with an agent who knows that I'm mad,
And isn't disturbed -- no, I think that she's glad

For madness compells me to write constantly,
And I didn't sell one book this year -- I sold three!
Rosemary and Rue is the first of the lot,
And is the third book where it ends? I think not!

Next Newsflesh! Then Clady! On Velma and Corey!
Then on to InCryptid, where Price girls get gory!
At seanan_mcguire the updates are steady --
I'm keeping you posted. You'd better get ready.

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

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

And I can't wait to see what the next year will bring,
The stories we'll tell, and the songs that we'll sing.
Perhaps the pandemic will find us at last!
(If that happens, I'll see you all up in Grants Pass.)

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

I am mad sick. I went to work, put in almost three hours before I could put in no more, and then proceeded to stagger home and fall over. I just woke up, largely, I think, because Lilly somehow turned on my iTunes. (On the plus side, iTunes is playing the Counting Crows Live at Elysee Montmartre. So at least it's an album I'm fond of.)

I am basically too sick to die. But I am not dead.

That's all.

The tiny little part of my tiny little blonde head that controls essential tasks—those things that have to be done, but which I absolutely dread and abhor doing, like formatting submissions, writing cover letters, and outlining projects—decided that the perfect time to write the series outline for the Mason Trilogy* would be while I was all hopped-up on cold medication. Because my brain is special.

Series outlines are the bane of my existence. Basically, they're your "short pitch," your chance to try to sell your story in a format that's longer than a cover letter, but shorter than the whole manuscript. Series outlines are sort of like high school book reports: they're packed with spoilers, and they strip out most of the detail of a story. "A young girl travels to a foreign land, kills the first person she meets, and teams up with three strangers" levels of stripping out the detail.

Feed is over five hundred pages long. Deadline is on track to be just as long. I have no real idea about Blackout, but I'd be astonished if the last book in the series was somehow shorter than the first two. I managed to condense all three volumes to nine pages. My agent loves me right now.

Fear me. And now? I'm going back to bed.

(*This may or may not be the official name of the series, but since all three books are about Shaun and Georgia Mason and their exciting journalistic adventures, it's as good a name as any. My original name for the project was "a good excuse to study virology and talk about zombies a lot," so this is really a pretty big improvement, marketability-wise. I'm great at naming books. I'm terrible at naming series.)

Starting yesterday morning, I began to present the exact same symptoms that I was presenting this time last week. That's right: reinfection has been achieved. Yippee! Only wait...no. Not yippee. Anti-yippee. This is the dark reflection of yippee, lurking in the tenebrous corners of the universe, waiting to destroy my enjoyment of everything.

I literally sat down with a pen and paper, made a list of everything I encountered during my probable infection period (assuming a two- to three-day incubation, which is roughly average for this sort of virus), and proceeded to check off the things that I encountered during the period where I didn't get sick. Like John Snow on his quest for the Broad Street pump, I was on a quest for a viral reservoir! Only he wasn't, y'know, dying of cholera while he was looking for the thing that caused all that cholera. I am not entirely happy with my needing to catch the virus to know I needed to find it.

The probable culprit? The toothbrush I keep in Kate and GP's bathroom for my Thursday night sleepovers. Kate has thrown it away, and we'll be testing the theory when I go to house-sit for them (starting tomorrow night). So I feel very much like a kick-ass epidemiologist, wiping out threats everywhere that she goes. Except for the part where, oh, yeah, I'm still sick. I had to go to work today, since it's already a short week, and literally nearly passed out at my desk several times. I feel like death warmed over. I look like death warmed over. The Four Horsemen all want my number. Pestilence called me 'a real hottie.'

If this is my last entry, blame the microbes.

Well, I'm home sick today, currently presenting two out of the five primary symptoms of streptococcal sore throat. (Quoth my mother, "Honey, you are the only person I know who says 'Mommy, I've got strep' by announcing that you're presenting primary symptoms of something I can't pronounce.") Big fun for the whole family! For the morbidly curious, I'm feeling deeply unwell, have marked swelling of the throat and tonsils, difficulty swallowing, tender lymph nodes, and so much red inflammation that I look like one of my own manuscripts post-editing pass. Not much fun.

In an effort to make myself feel better, I've been catching up on some of the television that's been building up while I was off doing other things, like writing, editing, and attempting to have a life. Well, let's see. How about The Eleventh Hour? Crazy science always makes me feel better! Yeah! And this episode is about...

...smallpox getting loose in Philadelphia. Right. Well, now that I'm sick and deeply disturbed, what about watching some ReGenesis? Originally created for Canadian television, ReGenesis really seems to have been created with me in mind, since it's sort of a crazy cross between Numb3rs and House, only instead of fighting either crime or weird medicine, they fight genetic crime and monstrosities of science. ReGenesis will make me feel better! And the first episode of season one is about...

...a horrible hybrid of camel pox and Ebola getting loose in Canada. Right.

I'm going back to bed.

So it turns out that some people have been slightly confused by my insistence that the Black Death was not the bubonic plague. I can understand the confusion. This isn't a topic that most people spend a lot of time or energy thinking about. In fact, it's a topic that most people put a lot of energy into not thinking about. And, perhaps as a consequence, it's a topic that I can talk about for hours, all while giggling gleefully and waving my hands about over my head.

If you wonder why I don't think the Black Death was the source of the bubonic plague, I recommend checking out a book called The Return of the Black Death: the World's Greatest Serial Killer, by Susan Scott and Christopher Duncan. It's a gripping scientific and archeological case for questioning the origins of the greatest plague Europe has ever known.

Of course, it's possible that you don't really want to spend that much time reading about disease. I can understand that. Or maybe you just don't want to wait for the book to get to you. I can understand that, too. And so, in the grand tradition of Schoolhouse Rock, I have written a lovely song to teach you all about the Black Death.

You can thank me later.

( Click here for lyrics. You may be sorry if you don't. You may also be sorry if you do. But aren't you curious?Collapse )

Today is World Virus Appreciation Day, the day when we give our most dearly beloved pathogens just that extra little bit of love that they so richly deserve. In honor of this infectuously awesome holiday, I'm offering my favorite entries in the fields of horrible diseases. Namely, some lists. How I adore lists. Especially lists of ten things.

( Click for Seanan's ten favorite movies about disease, books about disease, and, well, diseases. Because sharing is super-fun.Collapse )

Happy World Virus Appreciation Day! What's your favorite virus?

How better to begin celebrating my favorite month -- the month that contains Halloween -- than with this announcement:

Pre-orders for Red Roses and Dead Things, my first themed studio album, are now officially open! Pardon my squealing, and with big, big thanks to porpentine, who has made the magic go once again. Featuring performances by Paul Kwinn, Tony Fabris, Michelle Dockrey, Amy McNally, Jeff Bohnhoff, Maya Bohnhoff, Tom Smith, and probably several other people that I've managed to temporarily forget, this is a solid star-studded adventure in the worlds of mad science and horror. It brings the creepy. It brings the silly. And it brings the AWESOME.

To place your order, go to:

https://seananmcguire.com/secure_order.php

Pre-orders follow this price scale:

* $17.00 USD: Domestic pre-order (US and Canada)
* $22.00 USD: International pre-order.

(Basically, all pre-orders are a base cost of $15.00, plus shipping.)

We're taking three hundred total pre-orders, then closing it down; depending on how fast they come, and when we hit three hundred, there may be a small overage, but not much. All pre-orders will be given access to an exclusive download version of 'What A Woman's For' (which may or may not be released more widely into the wild after the album is released). Since we also need to pay mixing costs, we're taking album sponsors; to donate for sponsorship, click here:

All sponsors will be included in the liner notes. You can view the potential track list here:

http://seananmcguire.com/albums.php

The track order is by no means finalized, and I'll probably be doing some canvassing soon, to get an idea of other people's opinions on what should come first, last, where, and when. We may have to cut a song, depending on final track lengths; we don't know yet.

Questions? Comments? Glee!

I had a great many plans for yesterday. In fact, I had two complete plan 'packages,' allowing me the choice of a) spending the day at the Sacramento Zoo with my mother, my sister (Melissa), my sister's wife (Mary), and my sister's three step-kids, or b) staying at home sipping faux-Mimosas -- Crystal Light orange mixed with Diet 7-Up, DON'T JUDGE ME -- while starting the end-to-end rewrite on Late Eclipses of the Sun and prepping the next few 'Velveteen vs.' stories.

Instead, I spent the day either a) face-down in the toilet, praying for the sweet embrace of death, b) face-down on my mattress, praying for the sweet embrace of death, c) passed out on the bathroom floor, praying for the sweet embrace of death, or d) at the urgent care, where they gave me IV fluids and scolded me for spending so much time unconscious before seeking medical care. Being as I don't have a car, and the buses on Sunday are practically non-existent, I bore my scolding with valiant disdain, and concluded by throwing up on one of the attending nurses. Sorry about that.

The zoo would have been a lot more fun.

In other news, all of my deadlines for the week have officially been pushed back two days on account of plague, which ate my Sunday and has turned Monday into 'invalid recovery zone' territory. I am keeping fluids down at this point, and may even risk such extravagant splurges as Saltines and a shower. Sometime. Soon. Not now, however, as my head is still full of angry weasels, and I'm still not sure I'm over that whole 'praying for death' thing.

Plague: much more fun to read about than it is to experience. Seriously.

Yesterday, I...

...got official sign-off to turn in An Artificial Night to my publisher. This means that the entire first trilogy has now been turned in, and I can focus (at least for a few days) on the process of prepping the second trilogy, starting with Late Eclipses of the Sun. I'm deeply excited about this. I have a finished rough draft of Late Eclipses, and about half of The Brightest Fell, but Ashes of Honor is an entirely unfamiliar country. I hope my passport photo doesn't make me look like an idiot.

...finished processing some full-body machete-shot edits to Late Eclipses of the Sun, resulting in my needing a cold shower and the book needing some serious medical attention (the big baby). There's still a lot of work to be done, but the overall shape and structure of things is getting cleaner by the day, and by the draft. I'd estimate that I have maybe two or three passes through left to go before I can file it and get to work on book five. Book five lives in fear. Book five has every reason to be afraid.

...finished the next Velma Martinez installment, 'Velveteen vs. The Flashback Sequence, Part I.' (Technically, that means I need to write the second part of the story still, and I'm direly afraid that it's going to develop a third part, but we take what accomplishments we can get.) I've finally had the opportunity to fully introduce The Junior Super Patriots, West Coast Division. Velma 'Velveteen' Martinez, David 'The Claw' Mickelstein, Yelena 'Sparkle Bright' (no last name released by her handlers), and Aaron 'Action Dude' Frank. As a lifetime comic book girl, it's incredibly awesome to have the excuse to taunt the things I love.

...fully outlined my story for Grants Pass, after realizing that I was trying to write it from the wrong point of view. Yes, again. Only this time, I was in first when I really needed to be in third. (It seems that my novel default is first, and my short story default is third. I do not know why this is, only that it is.) I am a happy girl, full of pep and the love of horrible pathogens.

...watched an enormous amount of television.

Now we shall have victory cake and Diet Dr Pepper, for no other libation could properly match this victory. VICTORY!

seanan_mcguire: Can I have bubonic plague?
jennifer_brozek: I don't care.
seanan_mcguire: Awesome.

Just in case you were wondering who gave me permission.

I'm off to Seattle for the weekend. Try not to break anything, and remember, Kate's in charge while I'm gone.

Questions I'm sure jennifer_brozek probably wasn't expecting to answer today:

"Is your drug resistant bubonic plague actually yersinia pestis, or a mimicking virological agent?"

Because that's a totally reasonable thing for me to ask, right? I mean, bubonic plague is wiping out Texas, I want to know what its rate of spread is, how it's transmitted, whether the speed of spread is retarded by some animal infector (as in the original bubonic plague, where your spread is limited to the presence, health, and density of rat fleas available to spread the bacteria). You may all applaud Jennifer, because she had a quick and reasonable response, and did not threaten to smack me with the nearest available cat if I didn't stop being a geek.

(Jennifer is editing an anthology called Grant's Pass, set roughly fourteen months after a series of biologically engineered pathogens wiped out the bulk of the human race. Clearly, Jennifer loves me. Amusingly, Jennifer didn't know me when she came up with the idea for the anthology. So clearly, great minds think alike. Sadly for Jennifer, this means I have a totally valid reason to ask her questions about terrible diseases. I do so love it when people volunteer to be my cat toys.)

I've actually finished two lovely books on historical diseases in the last week -- The Speckled Monster (all about smallpox) and The American Plague (all about the yellow fever). Here's a handy tip: pandemics are scary. Here's another handy tip: try not to get stuck in the middle of one. I learned many things that I didn't know before, like 'smallpox dictated English succession several times' and 'yellow fever wiped out much of Memphis.' Also, the CDC views a single case of yellow fever as an epidemic. Pretty spiffy!

As I am flying to Seattle on Friday, no more plague books for me right now; I really don't feel the need to attract the attention of Homeland Security or the TSA just because I couldn't do without my daily dose of death. Also, after the premiere episode of Fringe -- which I loved blazingly -- I'd probably get myself lynched by my fellow passengers.

Yay, plague!