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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

See you next time!

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

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

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

The bridge for "Wicked Girls" was...

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

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

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

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

Today is Kaja Foglio's birthday! If you don't know Kaja, she's one-half of the creative team behind Girl Genius, along with her husband, the interminable Phil Foglio. Together, they won the 2010 Hugo for Best Graphic Novel. Also, they fight crime.

I'm just saying.

This month, the Foglios unleashed their unspeakable powers on a new arena: the novel. While Phil has written book-length prose before (most specifically Illegal Aliens, co-written with the awesome Nick Pollotta), this is Kaja's first foray into this particular medium. Agatha Heterodyne and the Airship City [Amazon]|[Mysterious Galaxy] is a novelization of the first two volumes of the Girl Genius graphic novel. Meaning what? Meaning that if you already read the comic, this isn't new story, per se, but it's deeper story, more intricate story. It enriches and expands on what you already know. And if you haven't read the comic, well, why not? It's available for free online. Yes, all of it. Yes, the Foglios make a living giving away their product. Why? Because it's that good.

Why am I telling you all this? Because it's Kaja's birthday, and what she asked for this year was, well, that we talk about her book. If you were considering picking up Agatha Heterodyne and the Airship City [Amazon]|[Mysterious Galaxy], why not do it today? Give Kaja a book sale for her birthday, and help the Foglios ring the bells on Amazon (or at your local independent bookseller—I note that Borderlands Books has the book in stock, as, I'm sure, do many others).

The Foglios are great people, and Agatha Heterodyne is a great book. If you like steampunk, gaslamp fantasy, wacky science, mad science, cute blonde girls in corsets, and making my friends happy, give Agatha Heterodyne and the Airship City [Amazon]|[Mysterious Galaxy] a look! Statistically speaking, if you're reading my journal, you'll probably be glad that you did.

Okay, bits and pieces, because I am a crispy, crispy cookie right now. Seriously, I wrote ALL THE THINGS last night, AND indexed half a box of My Little Ponies, AND updated my spreadsheets, AND cleaned up after Thomas, who had inexplicably decided to make a horrible mess in the bathtub (I'm sure I'll be dealing with this more in the days to come, and will spare you any further details; at least he did it on an easy-clean surface). Then, this morning, I got up to discover that my transit card had vanished in the night, leading to a pre-6:00 AM shredding of my bedroom. So I am not the bubbliest bunny in the burrow.

So first, Orbit is giving away poster prints of the covers to Deadline and Feed as part of the Epic Loot holiday series. Details are available at the link above, and they're selecting their winner tomorrow, so you should head over there and sign up if you're interested. They're gorgeous pieces. They'd look amazing on your wall.

The best thing about the people that I love is the way that they make me lizard-happy. I'm just saying. Find something (or someone) that makes you lizard-happy, and hug it a whole bunch. Assuming this won't get you slapped with a restraining order, injected with neurotoxic venom, or just plain slapped.

It's no secret that I'm a My Little Pony nut; see also, "regular references to cleaning and sorting and indexing the collection, so that I can figure out which Ponies I still need to either upgrade or acquire." (Hint: The answer is "quite a few.") Well, I'm also a big My Little Demon fan, and wanted to be sure you'd seen these ultimate expressions of my 1980s horror girl heart. I have Sparkle Plague framed and hanging in my bathroom, and I'm looking wistfully at Toxic Popsicle and Voodoo Vixen. It's possible that my home decor is a trifle unnerving.

(I will be working industriously at making it more unnerving in the weeks to come, as I should be receiving my cover flats for Deadline, have received my art prints for Bill Mudron, unearthed a few old commission and art pieces in a drawer, and have a companion piece to my Princess Alice in production. So eventually, people will walk into my house, look at the walls, and run screaming before something eats them. This is a goal.)

I'm trying to get all caught up with the world, but things are slipping a bit just now. So I beg you, be patient with me, and do not force me to devour your soul to demonstrate the foolishness of prodding tired blondes with sticks.

Happy Tuesday!

Bill Mudron, who is an incredible, amazing artist, and has done quite a lot of commission work for me over the years, has put up some absolutely drop-dead gorgeous prints for sale. Specifically, he's put up a pair of incredible Doctor Who prints themed after the world of Alphonse Mucha, showing Amy Pond and River Song in a whole new light.

You can view and order the prints here, should the desire strike you. I've already ordered mine, and I intend to have them framed and hang them in a place of honor. Assuming a place of honor can still be located on my increasingly-cluttered walls...

Anyway: Beautiful art! Supporting small artists! Absolutely unique gifts! And, you know.

Stuff.

I promised you shopping lists, and I intend to deliver! I'm taking a very generous definition of the word "friend," here, using it as a sort of shorthand for "friends and acquaintances and people who've emailed with me a few times and would probably buy me a drink at a convention if it was convenient and they had their wallets with them." Since that takes a long time to type, "friends" is our winner.

I have read every book I am recommending to you today, so consider this my Endorsement of Awesome. I've tried to be upfront about things like age ranges and such, but let's face it, I was reading Stephen King at the age of nine. My ideas on what you should and shouldn't give to your seven-year-old are messed. Up. So please try before you buy, and don't come crying to me if your kid starts claiming the clown in the closet is coming for his soul (hint: the clown probably means business).

First up, the inimitable Jim Hines! I mean that. He's hard to imitate. One of the things that makes him so amazing is the way he crosses age and gender barriers like they weren't even there. You think I'm funning with you? Hand Goblin Quest [Amazon] to any teenager who likes things that are awesome, and watch the divide between "boy books" and "girl books" melt away. Now try it again with the adults of your choice. It's fun, well-written comedic fantasy that has something for everyone. It's also the first of a trilogy. Hard to go wrong with that!

Once you've spent some time with the goblins, you could do a lot worse than sticking with Hines and taking a peek at The Stepsister Scheme [Amazon], the first of his modern action-adventure fantasy answers to the Disney Princess craze. It's a very pink book, but it, like the goblin books, works for male and female readers alike, with its engaging plot, awesome characters, and wicked-good dialog. I even helped to copyedit the third and fourth books in the series, which tells you something about my love for this world.

Moving on from Jim—thanks, Jim!—means it's time to take a look at the fantastic Jeri Smith-Ready, whose fantastic Wicked Game [Amazon] will introduce you to some of the most unique, most fascinating vampires currently stalking the shadows. They're the DJs of WVMP, and with the help of a con-artist protagonist and an author who knows how to go for the jugular, they can keep you rocking all night long. I love these books. Check 'em out.

But hey, maybe vampires aren't your thing. You could be more X-Files than Angel. And if that's the case, may I direct your attention to the delightful Gini Koch, and her steaming-hot, sexy, silly, utterly enchanting Touched By An Alien [Amazon]. (Okay, I admit it, I love Gini in part because there is now a DAW heroine whose name is sillier than Toby's. Thank you Katherine "Kitty" Katt, for making my protagonist less likely to kill me.) The sequel comes out next week, and wow, do you not want to miss the opportunity to beam up.

Cat Valente is exploring a different kind of alien landscape in her beautifully-written Habitation of the Blessed [Amazon], a landscape populated with creatures out of myth, legend, and allegory. She conjures up historical myths almost forgotten in the modern world, and weaves them together into something just probable enough to hurt your heart. It's a beautiful book.

Finally (for now), a book I loved so much that I actually blurbed it: Carousel Tides [Amazon], by Sharon Lee. It's an urban fantasy old-school enough that it wouldn't look out-of-place next to War for the Oaks and Tam Lin, and at the same time, it's totally part of the modern urban fantasy explosion. It's gorgeous and rich and deep and unique, and I can't recommend it highly enough.

That's books by my friends for today!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Holy crap," said the manager.

I bought the purse.

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

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

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

Anyway, here you go:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh, babe, I hate to go.

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

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

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

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

Oh. Wait. BEST PANEL EVER.

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

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

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

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

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

I did not sleep through the night.

The first full day of WorldCon dawned bright and early. Very bright, and very early, since Jeanne and I were both still waking up at roughly six o'clock in the morning. The fact that I did this despite spending a good portion of the night out drinking with my friends was somewhat astonishing to everyone involved, and could be taken as proof that I function on some sort of nuclear power source, rather than actual sleep. Our early rising did net us first shower, which was nice, as fixing my hair* takes a long damn time (which is why I so rarely bother to do it). Now socially acceptable, we hit the street in search of a) breakfast, and b) caffeine.

Breakfast was ham and cheese croissants in the food court attached to the casino attached to our hotel. Yeah, I know, I'm stacking on attachments like a professional spammer, but that's apparently the way they roll in Australia. Unless otherwise stated, assume all meals were in the food court attached to the blah blah blah. It was close, convenient, and (by local standards) reasonably priced, and Jeanne and I were both willing to eat there. Pretty much a victory all the way around.

At the convention center, the poor folks at registration were still waiting on their program books, so we went to see Mary Kay Kare and get my Participant Packet instead. It had invites! To Hugo-related functions! This is about when it all started seeming very real to me, and also when I pretty much gave up sleep for the duration. Expect my sanity to degrade rapidly from this point onward.

We wandered the convention, figured out where everything was, and had an unexpected meeting with Lezli Robyn, my fellow Campbell Award nominee. She was incredibly sweet, and I'm very glad to have met her. After touring the dealer's room and the half-assembled art show, I located Jay Lake and Shannon Page on a comfortable couch, and camped there for a bit, because Jay is cuddly and I was warm. Jeanne pointed out that failure to decamp from Jay would mean I got no caffeine before my three o'clock panel on Supernatural. I knew I'd need caffeine for that one. I decamped.

Thank Heaven for 7-11, yo.

The panel went well, despite some early confusion as to what, exactly, we were talking about. The topic was "Breaking the Fourth Wall: Supernatural and Its Audience." Given my opinions on season five, this could have been a blood bath. It was not, largely because polite tourists don't kill people. (At least, that's what Kate says, and everyone I ask says she's right. Conspiracy much?) And that was...well, that was it. That was my only Thursday panel.

Oh, wait. What about my Kaffeeklatsche? You know, that thing where I go and have coffee with anyone who wants to sit and talk to me for an hour? That was still coming up, right? Well, yes, and no. Because somebody told the programming desk that I was sick, you see, and they cancelled my slot. I found this out when someone asked me why, if I was sick, I was hanging out in the hall chatting with my friends. I went down to the front desk and whined until they fixed it. GO TEAM MATURITY. After that, the actual Kaffeeklatsche was fine. People drank coffee (I drank Coke Zero), we talked, and a good time was had by all. Jeanne and I trundled off for dinner, after which I returned to the Hilton to spend several happy hours at Barcon, drinking expensive cocktails and feeling the love. I love the love.

Friday, I spent most of the day idly trundling around and visiting my friends, capping it all off with the moment...the myth...the madness..."Seanan McGuire and Catherynne M Valente In Conversation." Also known as "the Snow White/Lily Fair Variety Show." It was, quite seriously, quantum madness. People asked it, we talked about it. Also, Cat brought the My Little Pony I'd given her to be our moderator while we sat on the edge of the stage and made merry for an hour. Worlds were born. Laws of physics were broken. It was awesome. And we're going to do it again in New York, because that is just how we roll.

After the In Conversation, Jeanne and I decamped to collect John Grace (my audio book publisher), Malcolm (Jeanne's friend), and Phil and Kaja Foglio. We trekked back to the alley for dinner. This time, they bribed us with a free bottle of wine for the table! Score. We got a fabulous table, and spent several hours chatting, eating, splitting appetizers, and generally having a fantastic time. Best WorldCon Friday ever. Even with the rain.

Australia is amazing.

(*Yes, it is actually possible for me to not look like a dandelion on the verge of going to seed. It's crazy, I know, but all things are possible with SCIENCE. And a ceramic straightening iron.)

My darling Mia at chimera_fancies is running a set of truly awesome sales right now. Six, all told, when you add up the auctions and the rest. It's an embarrassment of riches, one which awes and delights.

First up, the pendants she made from An Artificial Night are now available for sale. This is just the first batch; the second will be going live tonight. They're made from pieces of an ARC of the book, and all of them are signed by me. I honestly think this is Mia's best work yet. I'm honored and delighted to have been a part of it (and not just because it meant I got to see the pendants before anybody else did).

She also made three special pendants for auction sale. These are pressed under glass, with charms and extra glitter, and to make things extra-special, she had me write blurbs for all three.

"When one seeks advice on love, matters of the hearth, children, gardens, or the maintenance of apple orchards, ask the sun. When one seeks advice on wishes better left unwished, quests better left untaken, the mathematical definitions of the universe, or the maintenance of cherry orchards, ask the stars. When one seeks advice on kisses, on candles, on secrets, on fairy tales, on riddles, or on the maintenance of the peaches of immortality...ask the moon. If you word your question well enough, the moon may even answer." —Pendant #1: Ask the Moon.

"There are rules that bind transactions in the magical world, forms that must be followed, customs that must be obeyed. In time, one learns the tricks that allow these rules to be suspended, if only for a time. Make contracts with frog princes only when the moon is new; barter with small, nameless men only in perfectly round rooms with windows facing east. Do not trust cakes baked by women made of flowers, or wine pressed by men made of stone. There are ways to slip past every rule, if you are clever. Now come, bearing all these things in mind, and raise your hand, and dare the sea witch's door. —Pendant #2: Bargain With the Sea Witch.

"On the eve of her execution, the Princess Calendra—condemned by her own silence, and by the words of her father, who named her as a witch—stood before the pyre, squared her shoulders, and said, "In a Kingdom of men who fancy themselves as heroes, not a one has come to save me. In a world of stableboys and swineherds who dream of working wonders, not a one has come to my defense. In a time of so much pride, so much smug reliance on the words of storytellers, one man should have come...but instead I stand here, wicker maid and sacrifice to the harvest of your cowardice. Very well. If you will not save me, the time has come, I fear, to save myself." They say she vanished then, that she and her handmaids—who had been loyal, held in chains even as she was—rose on black white owl wings and flew away into the night. And where they went, none know...but the owls ask, always, who? Who will save you, little one, with your silence and your sorrows? Will you wait for a hero who may never come, or will you rise, and save yourself?" —Pendant #3: Then I'll Save Myself.

Now, if you, like me, already have a great many pretty things, you may be dreaming of jewelry boxes. This need, too, can be met. More than once, even, and for auction. I love it when the world meets our needs.

Beautiful things. Thank you, Mia!

maryrobinette is in town for this month's SF in SF—which I will regrettably be missing, due to having a prior engagement—and I managed to catch her on chat this morning and arrange for an afternoon meeting to hang out. This delighted me utterly, because I adore Mary, and don't get to see her often. (For those of you who need a footnote: Mary Robinette is the "voice" of the October Daye series, as she reads them in audio book form. She's also a puppeteer, an author, and the 2008 recipient of the Campbell Award. Girl's got game.)

Since the first thing I do with any out-of-town guest is take 'em for cupcakes, I arranged to have Mary meet me at Cups and Cakes Bakery. Yes, I am the devil. She was properly delighted by the palace of sugary delights, and consumed a peanut butter cup (chocolate cake, peanut butter frosting, dipped in chocolate ganache) and a red velvet, while I, being a pretty pink princess, ate a Pretty Pretty Princess (strawberry cake with strawberry frosting). Yum, all the way around.

You can't hang out in a bakery forever, so I asked Mary if she'd like to walk over to Borderlands. She was game for this adventure, and I've walked that route so many times now that I don't really need to pay attention anymore. Gleeful chattering and wandering ensued, culminating in our arrival at the bookstore, where we found Jude, Alan, and—eventually—Jeremy.

Jeremy had a box.

Inside the box was the new Night Shade Press anthology, The Living Dead 2. This is a big, handsome book, with a gorgeous cover, and a great table of contents. Said table of contents includes Kelley Armstrong, Max Brooks, David Wellington...and Mira Grant.

Oh, wait. That's me.

Oxygen is hard.

The story, "Everglades," is set on the U.C. Berkeley campus during the Rising. It's sad and wistful and tragic, and you should totally read it. I mean, you should totally buy this anthology if you like zombies, even a little, because it's gorgeous, but really? My story. In a book. With all these amazing people.

I managed a) not to break Jeremy's fingers snatching the book away, and b) to stay and keep talking for a while, because running cackling into the night would have been rude. We eventually shifted to the cafe, where I hugged Cole, hugged Mary goodbye, and departed for home, taking my book with me.

My book. You cannot have it. Get your own. MINE.

Damn, this was a surprisingly good day.

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.

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!

Remember when I posted all glowingly about a web comic called Skin Horse, and kept saying everybody should read it?

Remember how one of my big selling points was the first year of strips was now available in convenient dead tree format that you can take anywhere?

Good.

Shaenon and Jeff are now funding volume two through Kickstarter, which is a sort of crowd-funding aggregation service. You say how much you need by what date, and then people kick in what they can to make your project happen. The Skin Horse fund opened yesterday, with a $3,000 goal and an end date of, well, July.

It hit $3,000 last night. See what can happen when people believe that you're real?

Anyway: The volume two Kickstarter sponsorship fund is still open, and comes with some really awesome bonuses for sponsorship, including character sketches, side-stories, and more. The $20 sponsorship level gets you a signed copy of the book, for what would have been the book's cover price anyway—it's basically pre-ordering with a guaranteed signature, which is pretty neat.

If you like Skin Horse, consider sponsoring volume two. If you can't figure out what the hell I'm talking about, go read the comic, and then consider sponsoring volume two.

We're the shadow government.

We're here to help.

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.)

(A note: This was supposed to go up on the 9th, but I got distracted by banana slugs, Canadians, roadkill, and my mother. We'll be resuming the normal posting dates after today's interjection. Sorry for the confusion)

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 )

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!

Let me tell you about my friend Tom Smith.

Tom is one of the sweetest, most generous, most giving men I have ever known. He makes music, because he's one of those people who can't not make music, and he shares it, making the lives of others better. He's called "the world's fastest filker," and he's one of the few people who actually filks professionally, which is damned impressive. He appears on my album, Red Roses and Dead Things, as the male lead on "Another Mad Science Love Song." He was one of the first people to welcome me to the filk community, and I love him dearly. When I've needed help, he's been there to help me. When I've needed hugs, he's been there to hug me. He's a class act, is Tom Smith.

Like so many people right now, Tom is running into a patch of trouble. Thanks to slow damage of his bathroom floor, he's about to be hit with, yes, a bill he can't afford. This song sucks, and we hear it way too often these days. So here's a chance to help him out.

If you've been curious about filk music, visit Tom's page and take a look at the albums he has available for sale. He's even taking donations, and offering pre-orders of his upcoming album, Herbert West: The Musical. You can hear sound clips, you can get an idea of what he has to offer, and hey, maybe you can help this iteration of the suck-suck song be a little shorter than it might be otherwise.

It's worth a try, right?

This past Tuesday was my second book release party at San Francisco's own Borderlands Books. The folks at Borderlands are learning to believe me when I say things like "and I'm bringing a snake pit and an elephant and six dozen elvish acrobats," because, well, it's safer than the doubtful alternative. So when I said "I'm bringing Amy 'oh hai I am melting your face off with my AWESOME FIDDLING' McNally, Tricky Pixie*, and my usual cast of thousands, they believed me, and made space accordingly. This is because the crew at Borderlands is awesome.

The party was scheduled to run from five to nine, and they were kind enough to keep the bookstore, which normally closes at eight, open for an extra hour because they knew that we were coming. After mass discussion amongst the Traveling Circus and Snake-Handling Show**, we decided to begin our invasion at four, allowing time for things to be set up, any last-minute emergencies to be resolved, and the adulation of naked cats. Because we are clever. I arrived at the bookstore at roughly four-fifteen, and was promptly beset by a) Amy in a black leather under-bust corset HELLO, b) Ash, younger of the store's two pedigreed Sphynx cats, and c) Jude, with a stack of books to be signed and inscribed. I found all these things to be utterly awesome, and managed to keep myself from stroking the books, signing Amy, and hugging Ash. Barely.

Once I was finished signing at the bookstore, I proceeded next door to the cafe, where industrious setting up was underway. The musicians bustled briskly in all directions, and the entire small room at the back of the cafe became, essentially, our green room for stuff storage and makeup application. Awesome. Alan and Jude were trying to be everywhere at once, getting things into position as they raced in a dozen different directions at the same time. The band was decked out in awesome urban pixie togs (and no one looked at them oddly, proving once again that Toby worries too much). Alan and Jude were in Bookstore Ninja black...and I was wearing electric orange and green.

Um, go Pumpkins?

A raffle table was established next to the cafe's pastry case, and the prizes were arrayed for ooh-ing and ahh-ing: signed books, ARCs, foreign editions, CDs, random goodies, brand new chimera_fancies pendants that no one had ever seen before. Marti and my mother passed out raffle tickets, while I got strips of tickets to Jude (in the cafe) and Kary (in the bookstore). Mom successfully got Alan to provide her with a vase, because Mom is sometimes bad-ass, and we got things underway a respectable ten minutes late.

The first musical awesome of the night was provided by Amy, who did a solo set with grace, aplomb, and amazing fiddling. Betsy joined her for a few songs, on cello, and Alec joined her for one on the drum. Totally rockin'. After that, the first raffle drawing was held, and people won cool things (yay). I signed a bunch of books. I signed somebody's cup. The cafe sold out of pastries and bagels. The cafe made multiple runs to buy more bread. Let me say that again: they had to buy more bread. We ate all their bread.

We rule.

The second set of the night was Tricky Pixie, and they tore it up, with "Dryad's Promise" and "Tam Lin." More raffle. And then...

...Tricky Pixie set three. Which Sooj opened, solo, with a surprise performance of her newest song. "Tybalt." About, um...Tybalt. My King of Cats. I...um...wow. I only cried a little. That means I win, right? (Actually, the song's existence means I win.)

The rest of the set was a whole lot of awesome packed into a remarkably small span of time. Amy and I joined them for the last song: a cover of my own "Wicked Girls." Hearing that whole audience singing along nearly made me start to cry again. Then it was time for the final raffle drawing of the night (our table included donations from both the bookstore and the band, by that point), cleaning up, and heading home.

We got back to Concord way, way past pumpkin-time...and it was so very worth it. So, so very worth it.

I can't wait to do it all again.

(*Consisting of Betsy "I am too awesome to exist in fiction; only reality can contain me" Tinney, SJ "what do I know from alligator I ask you could you die" Tucker, and Alexander James "no, no, that's okay, you can trust me with your wine, women, and song" Adams. Tricky Pixie is twenty pounds of awesome in a ten pound sack.)

(**Sadly, this iteration of the Traveling Circus was missing several members of the sideshow, including Vixy, Brooke, and Tony. Their absence was deeply felt by the remaining members of the Circus, although we soldiered bravely on. We have great hopes for September's Circus, which will be in celebration of An Artificial Night, and will be designed to basically blow the roof clean off the bookstore.)

As I've mentioned before, I qualify for the Campbell Award this year, and I'd really like to win the tiara, because receiving a tiara in Australia, the Land of Poison and Flame, would be basically a defining moment in my Halloweentown Disney Princess existence. (Receiving a tiara is always awesome. Receiving a tiara in Australia proves that I've been asleep for the past three years.) Some of my friends have made Campbell Awareness posts, spreading the love and letting it be known that I'm eligible. Specifically...

catvalente posted to give me her endorsement, and also link to my comic strip about why I want a tiara (because let's face it, it's eye-catching). talkstowolves posted a long, bullet-pointed endorsement (with, again, the comic strip). Both pointed out that urban fantasy is rarely represented on these ballots, so...let's change the world!

Meanwhile, theferrett (who is also eligible for the Campbell this year and next year) posted about reading Rosemary and Rue, and the difficulties of my specific literary style. It makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

On to the reviews and interviews and whatnot! First up, Larissa, of Larrissa's Life, conducted an interview with, well, me which went up today. Learn about some of my favorite things, and enter to win an autographed copy of A Local Habitation. Fun for the whole family! Larissa also posted a review of Rosemary and Rue. She says "The plot of this book was great, fast paced and riveting. I could not stop reading for a second and was almost blind sighted by who the villain really was." She adds, "I absolutely recommend this book to any UF lover out there." Go, read, enjoy, and enter to win!

janicu has posted a lengthy review of A Local Habitation, and says "I liked this one better than the first book. I love the heroine and the pacing of the story seems just right." More, "I highly recommend this series if you like Ilona Andrews, Patricia Briggs or Ann Aguirre. The author writes complete installments but threads each book with hints as to the ongoing drama of Toby's life,and anticipating what could happen next is delicious. This is actually a series that I hope won't end at three books." You and me both!

Robin at Romance Reviews Today has reviewed A Local Habitation. Robin says "A Local Habitation is the second novel in this series, so some history is alluded to, but this does not affect the reading of this novel. It is a gripping mystery in a very well constructed otherworld. October is a great character, as are the supporting characters. There are some interesting romantic moments both expressed and constrained between Toby and three of the male characters, but business comes first. Quentin is a seemingly normal teenager caught in events out of his depth." Also "A Local Habitation is a wonderful urban fantasy readers will love." Well, they seem to so far...

s00j doesn't do many book reviews, but she decided to review A Local Habitation, because she is lovely. Sooj says "There's no doubt in my mind after reading this second October Daye novel that our heroine is made of sterner stuff (mostly coffee, if we are in fact what we eat) than me, and I do not envy her. Toby's pretty good at her job, but she can't stop people dying. Not even her friends, not even her superiors among the immortal Fae. If you thought she was strong in book one, Rosemary and Rue, you're not gonna believe all the crap she has to go through to make it to the end of A Local Habitation in one piece." She also says "If you couldn't put the first book down, make sure you set an alarm for a dinner break once you open this one. You'll need it. Once the action starts, it just gets weirder (and darker; we're not messing around here), and it doesn't waste any time. The only way in which A Local Habitation will do you wrong is that it will end, and it'll end in a pretty merciless way. But I find that, as with Rosemary and Rue, it's more than worth the ride." Yay!

Don D'Ammassa included A Local Habitation in his recent short reviews, and says "Like the first in the series, this rises above the limitations of its format. It would be a shame if this got lost in the crowd of similarly conceived though far less well executed novels."

And on that sweet, delightful note, I'm gonna end this post. Cheers!

So I mentioned that I wore an absolutely fantastic green and gold necklace made of bugs when I went to visit my publisher, and that said necklace was a gift from the equally fantastic (although somewhat less wearable) copperwise. I don't actually have pictures of my 'Seanan wears the human pants' outfit. But I do have pictures of the necklace, taken by its creator, who was definitely better with a camera than I am. Here go:

* The necklace at an angle.
* The necklace, front and center.
* The necklace, bein' long.

In all shots, it is brilliantly covered in bugs, and the world rejoices. I adore my friends for knowing my tastes -- in both color and creatures -- and I adore my necklace for being long and shiny and covered in bugs.

Life is good.