Hey, folks! Sorry I'm so quiet right now—I'm still trying to dig myself out from under the epic flood of crap relating to my book tour—but I thought you might like to know what I'm doing tomorrow night. Namely...

Writers With Drinks! Come out, drink booze, meet awesome authors, and hear me read something (assuming I don't start drinking early and dip into my stand-up act, which would be funny but dangerous).

If you're in the Bay Area, come out and get your drink on! If you're not, I will be dropping by Borderlands Books before the event, and can sign and personalize anything that's waiting for me there. I cringe saying this, but: holiday shopping takes time, and you can skim a little off the top by contacting Borderlands, who will shove things in front of me and then mail them to you, no fuss, no muss.

Well. Maybe a little muss. But only a little.

See you tomorrow night!

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

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

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

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

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

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

Cats.
Blue. Also, fluffy.

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

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

Monday morning, I woke up, and I had still won the Campbell. This was...something of a relief, since part of me had been vigorously insisting that I was going to wake up and it was going to have all been a VERY CRUEL DREAM. Because that is the sort of shit my brain thinks is funny. Well, at this point, if it's a very cruel dream, it's been going on for almost two months, and when I wake up, I'm kicking the living shit out of the Sandman.

After dressing, abluting, and giggling a lot, Jeanne and I made our way over to the convention center, where I had been added to the "Disreputable Protagonists" panel. I...didn't have that much to contribute, honestly. Toby is disreputable, but she's disreputable due to very world-specific things, not because she's actually a roguish naif. Ah, well. What I remember of the panel was fun (I had, remember, not slept much for almost a week).

We wandered around the convention a bit. We peered at stuff. And we made our way to my reading, which was governed entirely by consensus. What was I going to read from? Feed. Okay. Which part? The first part. Again, okay. I read the first chapter. And then I gave away books, so I wouldn't have to take them home.

We wandered around a bit more. I gave away more books, including one to Crystal, a very nice lady associated with Arisia in Boston. I ran out of books. We hooked up with what had become the Usual Suspects—Cat, Rob, Liz, Mundy, Mal, and a gentleman whose name I have since forgotten—and took cabs downtown, where we ate Italian food and threw things at each other and made fun of Scotland. Then it was back to the Hilton, where we drank cocktails and talked about many things, and flung cookies at each other, and generally were silly buggers until the time came for sleeping.

That's the end of AussieCon IV. To everyone who made my weekend so amazing, thank you. To everyone who would have done the same if they could have been there, thank you. And to Jeanne and Cat, thank you twice, because you made the weekend magic.

Australia!

I like mai tais. I find them pleasant, entertaining, and charmingly garnished with obscene amounts of fruit. I also like the process of making cocktails. It's like a fabulous combination of chemistry, alchemy, and, y'know, booze. Plus, it's fun. I like things that are fun. So I decided, what the hell, why not learn how to make mai tais?

This is how my brain works. Be glad you don't have to live with me.

First up, I had to find a recipe for mai tais. I like them with pineapple. Thankfully, Wikipedia is always willing to save the day, and provided me with a page that contained more recipes for the mai tai than one woman will ever need. I settled on recipe #5, the pineapple variation, as my "Mai Tai Scripture," the one true recipe against which all other recipes would be measured. At least until I got bored.

According to the recipe, I needed light rum, dark rum, grenadine, orange, pineapple, and lime juices, and triple sec. (The recipe didn't say that I needed a pineapple, maraschino cherries, a lime, or little paper umbrellas. I figured that part out on my own.) So step two was clearly a trip to BevMo. Yay BevMo!

Now, to work at BevMo, one needs a) a decent understanding of alcohol, and b) a sense of humor. Both these things were possessed by the clerk who came over to assist me in my quest. She found me in the rum section, squinting bemusedly at the assortment of bottles. "What are you trying to make?" she asked.

"Mai tais."

"The mai tai mix is over here."

"From scratch."

Beat. "Are you from the university?"

When in doubt, claim college hazing. "Yes."

"Well, then, you'll want this, and this—"

She was awesome, and quickly helped me assemble everything I'd need to make a truly epic mai tai. She also reminded me to buy the little paper umbrellas, without which, the mai tai could bring only shame upon my household. ALCOHOLIC SHAME. So, y'know, thank you, helpful BevMo clerk! You were truly awesome.

After a stop at Safeway to acquire fruit (and fruit juices), I went home, and discovered that putting all my liquor on the counter meant that I couldn't put my laptop there. My laptop, you know, with the recipe. So I did the next best thing, and called Vixy at home, making her read me the recipe. I started off by telling her the wrong recipe, leading to hilarity when she started asking me to put things I didn't have into the cocktail shaker. Oops. We recovered quickly, and I managed to combine all the correct ingredients. Only...I needed ice, and my ice was frozen solid. Cue me smacking the ice with everything I could find in an effort to chip off enough to fill my shaker. More hilarity.

Somehow, I escaped the ice without injury, and was finally able to properly mix my drink. I put it into a glass. I added lots of fruit. And I called it good.

Mai tai! (And My Little Pony, specifically, Wave Runner from the Sunshine Pony assortment. Not that I, uh, knew that or anything.)

Therein endeth the lesson.

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.

Australia!

Having had our wacky outback adventure (tm), it was time to turn my attention to more mundane topics, IE, "checking out of the hotel, moving over to our convention hotel, and attending a signing." Yes, a signing. I was supposed to be at the Southlands Dymock's bookstore by mid-afternoon, which was super-fun, especially considering that I had no living clue where that was.

Jeanne and I managed to get packed and out of our first hotel in a reasonable amount of time, after bidding a fond farewell to our newly-familiar surroundings. (Had we been aware that we were also bidding farewell to the only free Internet in the ENTIRE COUNTRY, we might have been a little more tempted to stay where we were. I'm just saying.) Because we are not idiots, we took a cab between hotels. Because our room wasn't ready yet, we checked our bags with the concierge, picked up our taxi vouchers from the front desk (thank you, Orbit!), and were off.

Where were we going? Why, the Westfield Mall. You know. The biggest mall chain on the west coast of the United States. Because that is what every tourist should do. GO TO THE MALL. We found the bookstore, along with a Safeway, and basically every store I would expect to find in a large suburban mall. Humans. We're all essentially the same.

The store manager, Chuck, was truly thrilled to have me, and made a point of getting his picture with me. This is because Chuck is awesome, and his store now has many signed copies of Feed (alas, only my evil twin was represented in the store's stock). We hung out for a few hours, and I got to meet a few awesome people I'd been hoping to meet while in Australia, including Tez. Yay Tez!

Before we left, I bought the UK edition of the latest Pratchett, I Shall Wear Midnight, because that's just how I roll. We had lunch at TGI Friday's, and made our way back to the hotel, where our room was still not ready.

We made our way to the Crowne Plaza to collect our badges. The woman who gave me my badge all but wanted a blood sample, which was...fun. (Seriously, I was like the only person in line asked to produce photo ID. Apparently, my life is very steal-worthy. Who knew?) I ran into several friends, and much hugging happened. We returned to the hotel, where our room was still not ready. Grumble.

Eventually, we were able to get into our room, greeting Jennifer and Jeff with great glee in the process, and then we were out, to have dinner with John (my audio book producer), a bunch of his other clients (including Phil and Kaja, and Cat, all of whom would be very central for me over the course of the weekend), and some awesome last-minute additions: Rob and Mundy. Rob and Mundy made my convention infinitely more awesome, and I am so beyond overjoyed to have met them. Seriously, there are not words. Even if our dinner conversation had rather more circumcision than I was expecting.

After dinner, Jeanne ran off to meet some friends, and I went off with Rob, Cat, and Mundy, to crash someone's cocktail birthday party. Cat and I wound up sitting on the cool veranda overlooking downtown Melbourne, sipping rum cocktails made with pomegranate liqueur, and going "Holy shit, this is our real life."

Maybe it's worth stealing after all.

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

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

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

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

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

Goodnight, world.

Our countdown to book release has reached lucky number seven, which means we're exactly one week out, and that it's sort of a miracle I'm sleeping at all. Ah, the glorious crazy of an author getting ready for their drop-date. How did I live before I knew this feeling?! Oh, right. With a lot less flailing. Anyway, here's today's countdown entry:

7 Things You Should Know.

7. A Local Habitation is the second book in the series, following Rosemary and Rue. You don't necessarily need to read Rosemary and Rue first, but I think that it helps. Possibly quite a lot. Remember that there's only so much recapping that can go into a book before it turns boring.

6. The word "series," not "trilogy," applies to the October Daye books. A trilogy is a closed, three-volume unit. While I am currently contracted only for the first three books in the series, there's a lot more story after that. Which means I'd really like A Local Habitation to sell super-well, so that I can get a contract for the next set of books. Take two, they're small.

5. A Local Habitation is the first of the three books I have coming out this year. The second is Feed in May (as Mira Grant), and the third is An Artificial Night, in September. I currently have only one book scheduled for 2011, Deadline, again in May (and again, as Mira Grant). This seems likely to change.

4. Remember, every time you buy a copy of Rosemary and Rue, a pixie gets its wings. (Contrarywise, every time you buy a copy of Rosemary and Rue, you can elect to have the Luidaeg part a pixie from its wings in a violent and thoroughly unpleasant fashion. She'd like that. She'd like that quite a lot.)

3. Thankfully, I finished Deadline just in time, and am now spending my evenings watching Disney Channel sitcoms, drawing comic strips, and drinking port. I appreciate this small break in my borderline-hysteria.

2. I really and truly appreciate every one of you for being here, for commenting, for participating in giveaways, for discussion, for dissension, for buying my books, for reviewing my books, for recommending your own books, and generally just for existing. It does a lot to keep me getting out of bed in the morning. Which may be faintly pathetic, but I have a book coming out in a week, I'm allowed to be faintly pathetic. It's actually in my contract.

1. I am possibly the luckiest Halloweentown Disney Princess in the world, and I know it.

I wish to note that I have made a vast and important discovery, key to the survival of mankind:

Typing is much funner post-vodka.

Like, seriously. If you haven't had vodka, the act of spelling 'vodka' correctly is nowhere near as impressive. Also, I can spell 'impressive' after the vodka. And also I can spell 'antidisestablishmentarianism' after the vodka. Even if the spellchecker doesn't think I can spell it correctly. This is because the LJ spellchecker is stupid.

Vixy has just discovered my biohazard baggies. She is not properly concerned with their missing contents. This will be funny later.

More vodka now.