My friend Michael is a roller derby referee. Women's flat track derby, to be specific (so if you're thinking Whip It right now, you have the wrong form of the right sport). This past weekend was the Bay of Reckoning West Region play-offs, right here in the Bay Area, and he was up from Southern California to cheer his girls (the Angel City Derby Girls) on. After a great deal of polite wheedling on his part, I agreed to come out for part of Saturday, if I could make word count.

I made word count.

The Bay of Reckoning was being held in Richmond, which is a reasonable drive from my house. I put on a green Wicked Girls shirt and a metric ass-ton of spray glitter (YAY SPRAY GLITTER), grabbed my cane, and hitched a ride over with Mom, who elected not to stay for the fun. Then I went hobbling over (ankle still) to the door, to see if they had the wristband that Michael had promised me.

They did not. But they did have a notation that I was supposed to receive one, and as Michael's team was on the track at the time, they got me all signed in, wristbanded, and ready to go. One of the girls at the door actually recognized my name, and got very excited, because she loved the Toby books (this will matter later). With distant cheers and the sound of skates rattling over tile to lure me on, I dove into the cavernous depths of the warehouse-like building.

Michael called as I was reaching the bleachers. The bout had reached halftime, and he was heading for the door to meet me. "I'm under the bleachers."

"Stay there."

He found me, after a bit of comedic misinterpretation, and we made our way to where Rachel from Australia was saving our seats. Yay, Rachel! Rachel had Tim-Tams, and wasn't too dismayed when I informed her that I was the Princess of the Kingdom of Poison and Flame. Rachel is awesome.

It's difficult to describe what makes roller derby so awesome, beyond the fact that it's not only a great community, but it's a real, vibrant, athletic, female-dominated sport. You can't watch derby girls slamming around the track and think that it's faked; they're too obviously working their asses off. Angel City lost their bout, but not until after they'd managed some amazing skating. They were followed by Rat City vs. Sacred City (Seattle vs. Sacramento), which might have been a friendly bout, had one of the Rat City jammers not been knocked down, hard, in the very first jam. She hit her head on the floor, and sat out most of the half. And Rat City was pissed. They handed Sacred City their asses on a plate. It was awesome.

(If you skate for Sacred City, please don't kill me. It was a great match. But bouncing Ohno's head off the floor sort of pissed Rat City off, and anger is fun to watch.)

The headline bout of the night was B.A.D. Girls vs. the Denver Mile-High Club. At the end of the first half, B.A.D. was leading, to the point that people were predicting a B.A.D. Girls/Oly Rollers final. By the end of the second half, a few power jams (mostly by Francie Pants, who used to be an Olympic-level ice hockey player) had put Denver in the winner's circle. There was screaming, there was flailing, there was some incredible skating, and I loved every minute.

Roller derby is a world unto itself. There was a merchandise hall set up, with strange, lovely stalls (I bought a T-shirt) and a few food vendors (I bought a dozen cupcakes for our section of the stands. Favorite moment:

"Do you want a cupcake?"
"I'm gluten-free."
"So are the chocolate ones."

Bliss.)

People in giant felt vagina costumes danced up and down the aisles, as did someone in a giant felt shocker costume (if you don't know what the shocker is, don't Google it at work). There was a pseudo-flash mob of referee dance moves. Skaters were everywhere, and the rules said that if you got a derby girl in your lap, you had to throw her back.

It was awesome.

As Michael and I were heading out, I spotted the girl from the front desk who'd recognized my name, and managed to catch up to her to ask which books she liked best. She confirmed Toby. When Michael took me home, I grabbed and signed a couple of Toby books for her, since he was going back Sunday and I wasn't.* And then I fell into bed, and dreamed of derby.

Women's flat track roller derby is fabulous. If there's a league near you, you should try to catch a match or two. There are definitely worse ways to spend a Saturday night than watching an athlete in her prime make an apex jump during a power jam, after running on roller skates.

Life is good.

(*Yes, she got her books, because Michael is awesome.)

Hey, kids. Wanna see something awesome? Well, this coming Sunday, I will be performing as part of the Geek Fest Concert and Vendor Fair, hosted by the Seattle Browncoats.

Music! From such luminaries as Vixy and Tony, Betsy Tinney, Sunnie Larson, the Doubleclicks, and Eben Brooks (and more! MUCH MORE!). Oh, and me. I'll be performing with my usual Seattle backing band, and it's going to be AWESOME.

Vendors! Are you looking for that perfect gift for your geeky sweetie? Well, this is your chance to buy directly from the creator, cutting out silly little things like "shipping" and "waiting for the mail." Again, it's going to be AWESOME.

Admission is a mere $10 ticket, granting you full access to the concert and the vendors. Food and drinks will be available for sale. The whole shindig is going to be indoors, so we're not going to get rained on, and your admission will go to a great cause. Support geeky pursuits, the Seattle Browncoats, and the randomness of me flying to Seattle for a one-day event, and show up for the Geek Fest!

Hope to see you there!

Officially, for the current dominant culture of the country where I live, the new year begins on January 1st. I don't really remember when I started celebrating the new year on November 1st, as dictated by the Wiccan calendar; it's just the time that feels right to me. Harvest is ending. We're sliding into the long winter, time for contemplation, renewal, and preparing to face the spring. I like the idea that we can start the year with a nice, long, blanket-swaddled nap. So happy new year, from my calendar to yours.

This past year has been absolutely insane. High points have included doing the San Diego International Comic Convention with my two best girls, publishing not one, but three books, under two different names, trips to Georgia, New York, Ohio, Michigan, Washington, and other places too numerous to name, winning two Pegasus awards, and finishing two more books. It's a good thing I don't like holding still when I don't have to, I guess. Low points have included exhaustion, travel woes, illness, and throwing my back out. On the balance, I'm calling it a win.

Whether today is the beginning of your year, the beginning of your holiday season, or just another Tuesday, I wish all the best to you and yours. May your days be sweet, your fires be warm, and your skies be filled with stars.

Happy New Year.

...into a fog where no one notices the contrast of white on white.

According to my iPod, I currently have three hundred and eighty-four Counting Crows songs in my pocket. About eighty of these are different versions of the song "Rain King," mixed and mashed and mingled with a dozen other songs, recorded in an unknown number of cities. I have the coveted live concert with the Disney orchestra backing them up, and several different versions of the song "August and Everything After," which has never been officially recorded. In short, I am a nut.

The first time I saw the Counting Crows live, I was in high school, and they were still playing the UC Berkeley campus club on a regular basis. I was smuggled into the bar by a friend. It was love at first sight. Unlike many young loves, this one has never wavered, never faltered, never faded. They are my favorite band. They have been my favorite band since I was fourteen.

Tonight, I am flying to Seattle. Tomorrow, Ryan and I are driving four hours to a winery in the middle of Washington state. And I am going to see the Counting Crows live for the first time in more than two years.

I am excited, I am exhausted, and I am relieved. Seeing the Counting Crows perform is restorative for me, the way that rereading IT or watching Slither is restorative. Only moreso, because I can't control when a concert happens the way I can control putting on a DVD or opening a book.

I will not get any work done tomorrow. Normally, that would stress me out and worry me, but not this time, because I'm getting something a lot more valuable.

I'm getting peace.

I hope you'll have a wonderful weekend, wherever you are and whatever you choose to be doing. I'm going to be on my own private archipelago, and there's nowhere else I'd rather be. Nowhere else in the world.

I am currently trying to transform my place of residence from a welter of stuff* into something halfway functional. I have a lot of motivation. I not only want to have a viable idea of what I have, thus telling me what I need to acquire if I want to finish various collections, I want to get rid of things that I don't really want. That way, I can pack with more assurance. Every move is focused on that sweet eventual goal: Seattle. I want to get out of the Bay Area, and after co-habitation with The Housemate for over a decade, my extraction has to be slow and careful, lest we wind up going to war over who owns that battered old paperback book.**

Some of the de-cluttering efforts are obvious. For example, I am putting books in boxes, indexing their contents, and putting the boxes in a big stack of boxes (also filled with books). I am putting things I have no emotional attachment to/desire to keep in other boxes, and sending them away on a regular basis. I am freely giving things to strangers. Other efforts are less obvious. I bought two new cat trees, because cats knock stuff over, thus creating more mess than they will when given places of their own. I've been saving boxes, which makes more mess, at least until the boxes are filled and put away. And so on.

My brain is no tidier. In trying to clean up my link list, I found things that have literally been waiting for their shining moment for up to two years. Will I ever really get around to some of these? No. No, I will not. That makes me sad, but I'd like to see the floor in my rotating "to do" file someday, just like I'd like to see it in my kitchen, and so away they go. Farewell, sweet links. I hardly knew ye.

Still. Once, Feed was a best-selling title in an Australian bookstore. I was nominated for a Romantic Times award. Apex put out an anthology with my wacky Fighting Pumpkins alien invasion story in it. And I needed to take a nap.

I will probably do some really random review posts in the next few days, just to clear out some links that have waited long past their best-by date. This has never been a judgment on those reviews in specific; it's just how out of control the file has gotten. I need a maid to go with that nap, I swear.

Anybody want to come over and help me index stuff?

(*Let's be clear here: most of it is good stuff. That's why it's there. But not all of it is good stuff. Some of it is bad stuff. Some of it is the kind of stuff that seemed like good stuff six years ago, when I was a different person, or when I really thought that someday I, too, would be a world-class guitarist. And some of it, sad to say, is crap.)

(**If you don't think this is something worth going to war over, you're either not a bibliophile or have never had someone try to take one of your best-beloved books away from you. Not being in the mood to start global thermonuclear destruction, I am doing my best to avoid this.)

Okay, gang; I'm off to a wedding, and I won't be back for about eight hours. I will not be answering comments during that time. Please don't burn down the internet while I'm gone, I still need to use it for stuff.

Have a great Sunday!

Hello, world! It's the Thursday before Wondercon, and I'm trying to take care of all the little rags and tags of reality that build up over the course of a week like cat hair on velvet pants. So anyway...

1. The fight is still raging in the BSC Review tournament! This round closes Sunday morning, at which point, eight books will be reduced to four, and those four will duke it out for the right to do to the bracket semi-finals. Cat and I both still have horses in this race, so please, help keep Toby swinging!

2. Speaking of Cat, her new book, Deathless, came out this week. Hooray for book release! There's a lot of neat free stuff to have and enjoy and be amazed by; my darling talkstowolves has made a big post collecting it all into one place. I even drew a Pretty Little Dead Ghoul for the occasion. Feel the love!

3. My new phone is lovely, and allows me to do exciting things like "take pictures of my cats" and "access Twitter from the train." It also allows me to answer email when I'm not at home, which is going to be a huge, huge relief as time goes on. It's already taken some of the weight off, since I've been able to respond to things while in transit.

4. Thomas and Alice have started working against me. Thomas jumped onto the back of my knees at four o'clock this morning, jarring me INSTANTLY AWAKE, at which point Alice began pushing their ceramic food dishes back and forth in the feeding tray. Scrape. Scrape. Scraaaaaape. So yes, I got up, and I fed the cats. I am so doomed.

5. The full-length trailer for the new season of Doctor Who has been released, and is so intensely awesome as to cause me to sit, weak-kneed and gaping at my monitor, for several minutes before hitting "play" again. I remain overjoyed and giggly over the fact that this show, my show, is back.

6. Also, there's a new My Little Pony cartoon that doesn't suck. I clearly control the universe. You can place your requests with Kate, who will only allow me to fulfill the ones that don't involve diseases or amphibians.

7. I'm getting ready to do a massive post office run, so I am once again taking orders for "Wicked Girls" posters. According to my files, if it's been paid for, it's been sent out; please email me if you don't have yours. Comment either here or on the original post if you'd like to request a poster, and we'll coordinate.

8. I will be mostly offline this weekend, as I will be attending Wondercon. I'll have my awesome new phone with me, but let's face it, when given a choice between answering email and staring raptly at James Gunn, James Gunn wins without a contest. I'll definitely Tweet my location at various points throughout the weekend, and if you find me, you could win a prize. Or not. I may be out of prizes.

9. Zombies are still love.

10. I get to see Amy this weekend (Mebberson, not McNally)! And Kaja! And Phil! And there will be cupcakes, and hugging, and artwork, and Mom will probably wear her chicken hat, and I'm so excited!!!!!

What's new and awesome in the world of you?

1. I have done mailing! Very nearly all the mailing, in point of fact; the only things that are a) paid for/contest prizes, and b) still in my possession are Lu's posters (trying to make sure I didn't double-pack them) and seawench's ARC (returned by the post office, only just got confirmation that it was safe to ship a second time). So there is no mail waiting for me to do something with it! I dance the dance of joy.

2. Since this weekend is the Traveling Circus and Snake-Handling Show's fourth appearance at Borderlands, my mother's been cleaning my house from stem to stern, to get it ready for company. This, naturally, upsets the cats. Thomas has been expressing his displeasure by sulking in the kitchen and knocking over the trash can. He doesn't seem to understand that neither of these behaviors is going to do anything beyond getting him scooped and scolded.

3. Having assessed my current stress levels and their effect on my ability to get things done, I have taken a major step toward reducing them. Namely, I have set aside the to-be-read pile, turning my back on all those beguiling new stories and unfamiliar authors, and have picked up my dearest, most faithful literary companion: I am re-reading Stephen King's IT for the first time in well over a year. This is seriously the longest I have gone without reading this book since I was nine. So yes, it will be sweet balm for my stressed-out soul.

4. Safeway has two-liters of Diet Dr Pepper on sale for eighty-eight cents this week. This, too, is sweet balm for my stressed-out soul, but in a different way. A more hyperactive, I CAN SEE THROUGH TIME, kind of a way.

5. Still on the New York Times bestseller list. I check every day, just to see if I'm still there. Call it part of my monitoring routine against dimensional slide, and let it go. I feel like I should do something to celebrate, like another round of book giveaways or something, but that's going to have to wait until my capacity to cope catches up with the rest of me. Say around next Tuesday, at the current rate.

6. I am the Rain King.

7. Last night's episode of Glee made me happy the way the show used to make me happy in season one, and that was a wonderful thing. I'm glad I bought the soundtrack before the episode actually aired; it let me get used to the original songs the way I am to the covers, and assess the performance on the show based on the actual performance, not on "WAIT WHAT THE HELL ARE THEY SINGING." It's a thing.

8. Last night I dreamt a detailed remake of Nightmare on Elm Street, updated for the modern era, without sucking righteously. It was scary and strange and really awesome, and it says something about my psyche that I still don't think it was a nightmare. Sadly, I woke up before the end. Stupid alarm clock.

9. The bigger my cats get, the more I realize that I need a bigger bed. Which means I need a bigger bedroom. Which means I need a bigger house. Anyone know where I can find Dr. Wayne Szalinski's shrinking/enlarging ray?

10. Zombies are love, be excellent to one another, and party on, dudes.

Now is the time on Sprockets where I take my suitcase, my passport, my train tickets, and my mother, and head to the San Francisco International Airport. From there, we will fly to Los Angeles, and I will spend the weekend as ConChord's Guest of Honor/Westercon's Music Guest of Honor. Yay!

Since I'm about to leave you to your own devices for the entire weekend, I thought I should bribe you to play nicely with, well, the world. Here's Lilly, being...dignified:



The Siamese, ladies and gentlemen. Nature's most dignified feline.

Yeah. Right. Have fun!

So this Saturday is going to be my very first SF in SF (Science Fiction in San Francisco), and I am both elated and terrified. This is a combination that only remains fun for short periods of time, so I'm calling on all local people to please, please come and help. How can you help? By attending.

I'll be appearing with the fantastic Deborah Grabien. There's going to be a reading, followed by a question and answer session/interview moderated by Terry Bisson. So that should be a lot of fun. The doors open at six, and there will be book sales (courtesy of Borderlands Books), as well as refreshment sales (because boozy authors are more fun than the sober kind).

The event is going to take place at The Variety Preview Room, at 582 Market Street, in the first floor of The Hobart Building. It's literally right next to the Montgomery Street BART Station, so it's totally accessible and awesome. There will be audience participation for the Q&A, and time for hanging out and signing books in the lounge before the event ends at nine-thirty.

Proceeds from the events go to the Variety Children’s Charity.

And while we're on the topic...what do you think I should read? Seanan-style writings only, please; anything by Mira Grant is off the table for this specific event.

Hope to see you there!

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!

1. Remember that voting is still open for the second A Local Habitation ARC giveaway, and while there are a few clear favorites, it's still anybody's game. I'll announce the third giveaway as soon as I figure out exactly what it's going to be.

2. A Local Habitation gets a little closer every day, as this page on the Penguin Group website can attest. It's still weird and wonderful and a little terrifying to look at websites and go "wait, that's my book, I wrote that, oh whoa, that's Toby." I am assured this feeling will eventually pass. I'm...not sure I want it to.

3. If you want to see me compared to an Emma Frost-esque diamond golem, click here and join the giggling. I don't object to being a golem, or being made out of diamond, and I admit it, my productivity is occasionally terrifying even to me. I am also assured that this phase in my life will eventually pass. That idea scares me.

4. Things about this weekend that I'm really excited about: the first holiday party of the season. Getting more time to work on Blackout. The premiere of the Alice miniseries on Syfy. It's by the people who did Tin Man last year, and while it doesn't star Zooey Deschanel (a definite minus if you ask me), it looks absolutely incredible. Plus it has Connor from Primeval, and he is mad hot.

5. Matt Fraction has declared that Emma Frost is the love of Scott Summers's life. Matt Fraction is my new favorite person, at least for right now.

Tonight, I'm going out with my cousins to do something mysterious which required me to buy two rolls of quarters from the bank. I am wary but interested to learn what lies in store on the misty streets of San Francisco. Here's hoping you're planning for a wonderful weekend of your own, and feel free to let me know what you have going on!

Hello, and welcome to the thirty-fifth essay in my current series of essays on the art and process of writing. All fifty of the essays in the series are based around my original set of fifty thoughts on writing. These fifty essays touch on every aspect of the writing life that I could think of; some apply directly to the process, while others apply more to maintaining your sanity while being a writer. If you ask me, they're of equal importance. Here's today's thought:

Thoughts on Writing #35: Gimme a Break.

No, I'm not suggesting that you break me off a piece of that Kit-Kat bar; I'm talking about down time. To expand on today's thought a little:

There is absolutely nothing wrong with taking a break from time to time. I pretty much write every day of my life—I'm a junkie, and I admit it—but there are days where the writing takes an hour in the morning, and is then set aside completely, in favor of seeing Flogging Molly perform. Sometimes, my "writing" for the day consists of jotting notes in my planner (also known as "Seanan's second brain"). I need those pauses to reset myself, and sometimes, to find new books in the world around me. Don't hate yourself for needing to breathe.

This is one of those thoughts that seems so logical that it shouldn't need expressing—of course it's okay to take breaks! Dude, we're allowed our leisure time!—but oddly, it's also one of the things I've found personally most challenging. Writing is both a job and a leisure activity for me, and, it seems, for many of us. So how do we keep those functions of our lives split, and how do we keep from becoming so wrapped up in our work that we forget to play? Let's take a look at leisure, and how to have some without losing all our hard work. Ready? Good. Let's begin.

( My thoughts are not your thoughts; my process is not your process; my ideas are not your ideas; my method is not your method. All these things are totally right for me, and may be just as totally wrong for you. So please don't stress if the things I'm saying don't apply to you -- I promise, there is no One True Way. This way for my thoughts on taking the occasional break.Collapse )

5:15 AM: Wake up to the shrieking blare of the alarm clock. Reaffirm desire to purchase one of those nifty little iPod-dock alarm clocks after DucKon, so that I can be woken up by something that doesn't make me want to lunge for the nearest blunt object and commit a homicide. I'm a light enough sleeper not to need an alarm clock that could be used to notify the UN of the impending zombie apocalypse, thank you very much. Get dressed, get packed, get out the door.

7:00 AM: Arrive at desk in San Francisco, and settle in for a day of being as productive as I possibly can when I'm leaving the office at one to deal with scary dental things. I am surprisingly productive, largely thanks to my love for the sacred to-do list. If not for the sacred to-do list, I would be a whimpering heap under the bed by now. All hail the sacred to-do list, and all hail Franklin-Covey, the manufacturers of my planner and its various accessories. Seriously. These people save my ass daily.

1:00 PM: Leave the office. Head for the train. Take the train to Borderlands Books, where my usual impeccable timing means a) I miss Jude (rats!), b) the naked cats aren't in the store (double rats!), and c) Cary—in addition to being the only employee present, which reduces the viability of chatting—is in the middle of inventory, and thus borders on negatively social. Purchase several books, because I am me. One of these is a paperback titled Denver Is Missing, by D.F. Jones, who also wrote Earth Has Been Found. Nobody ever gets to call me bad at titles ever ever ever ever again.

4:00 PM: Go to dentist, who prods me repeatedly while going "Does this hurt?" Nothing hurts before it gets prodded. Now...well, pain is annoying but endurable, I suppose.

5:00 PM: Arrive home. Update LJ before preparing for an evening of edits, fuzzy cats, and really lousy horror movies.

Halloween is every day.

MONDAY: Monday, Monday, Monday. Monday was a day of Getting Things Done. On Monday, I submitted my latest short story—fetchingly titled "Dying With Her Cheer Pants On" (although I sadly suspect that even the most tolerant of editors may ask me to change to one of the possible alternate titles, because I am not James Tiptree)—to the anthology it was hopefully written for, chopped up lots of vegetables for stew, used an entire bottle of red wine in setting up my marinades (I felt quite decadent doing this), processed a truly epic number of edits, and actually went to bed on time (not a theme of the week). I also put my tax paperwork where I'd be able to find it again later. Behold! For now I wear the human pants!

TUESDAY: Tuesday was a "hit the ground running" sort of a day. I got up, only to start rabbit stew in the smaller crock pot, and goat stew in the larger crock pot. (I know in my heart that my crazy poacher ancestors are very, very proud of me right now. They would be more proud if I'd obtained my weird meats with either a gun or the front-grill of a moving car, but my family's ancestral spirits take what they can get.) After work, I hit the Farmer's Market for the rest of the fixings for a big dinner, and went home to wait for my house guests to arrive.

(For those who missed the memo, catvalente and s00j are currently on the West Coast leg of the Palimpsest [Amazon]|[Mysterious Galaxies] tour, a mixture of music and readings from the book. Since they're traveling with their sweeties, as well as a large trailer, they needed a lot of house to crash in. I have a lot of house. Since I needed to do spring cleaning anyway, this seemed totally reasonable. Also, the last Bay Area stop is tonight, at the Other Change of Hobbit, and I will totally be attending.)

The drive took longer than expected, so they arrived a bit after my bedtime. I hastily showed them where the towels were, introduced them to the cats, pointed them at the stew, and went to bed. "Going to bed" has been a theme of the week, really. I like my bed. It's where I keep the sleeping.

WEDNESDAY: Wednesday consisted mostly of swearing at Late Eclipses and showing Cat et all around San Francisco. We went to Borderlands Books so they could meet Jude and the freaky demon alien suede kittyfaces before the show (which was last night), and from there, proceeded on a tour of weird and wonderful San Francisco, culminating in a trip to Fisherman's Wharf, during which we saw sea lions and ate tasty foods. (Also, I shattered a tooth. Not so much fun, and seeking a dentist who suits my needs is proving to be exciting. My phobia of dentists is so severe the signs sometimes make me sick to my stomach. Maybe watching Little Shop of Horrors every day for a year when I was nine wasn't such a good plan.)

THURSDAY: Thursday brought back Supernatural, gave me an excuse to go to the art supply store for actual business reasons, and tasty, tasty Indian food, followed by tasty, tasty ice cream, and tasty, tasty sleep. Also, I swung through the comic book store, and found a Tulip action figure on the discount table for only fifty cents. It will take very little customizing to turn her into an awesome Alice Price-Healy (from the InCryptid books) action figure. She will inspire me with her plastic menace!

How's been by all of you?

Am home from day two of Wondercon, subtitled 'Seanan wanders around a lot, misses her panels, delivers some CDs, goes to the movies with Jeanne, and acquires a bunch of free stuff.' It's a long subtitle, but it's still fairly concise for everything that it needs to cover.

One nice thing about the convention being a straightforward train ride from my home: when I finish this entry and find the strength to move, I'm going to bed. In my bed. Not a hotel bed. Mine. Where I will sleep with my plush toys, and my pointy blue cat. Not those hotel plush toys and hotel pointy blue cats.

I appreciate this convenience.

In other news, yes, I'll be back at the con tomorrow; yes, I still have art cards, although the number is dropping; yes, I would be happy to answer any questions that you might have about Rosemary and Rue, including my new favorite, 'what's rue?' (How people surrounded by mad scientists can avoid knowing even one meaning of the word 'rue' is something I hope to never know...)

I'm attending a bunch of panels tomorrow, and my head hurts. So, y'know. Bed now.

So my access to LJ is getting worse in some exciting ways; the landing page is now so scrambled that I can't find the 'log out' button, and access to comments is practically impossible. (Previously, I could answer them, just with a measure of exquisite slowness. Now there is no answering of anything at all.) Assume that I am down for the count until you hear otherwise. More importantly, assume that I absolutely will not see anything posted only and exclusively to Livejournal. Figuring 'oh, she knows' and carrying on your merry way is now officially a good way to cause confusion, because I do not know at all.

(Ironically, I can still post, although the posting page looks like it was coded in 1995. I'm having some vicious flashbacks. It's distressing.)

We have an Amy McNally all safe and sound and totally passed out on the couch. Her flight was delayed. Worse, her pickup was delayed, since Fishy -- who was originally planned to retrieve her, while the rest of us attended rehearsal in a fairly remote location -- came down with food poisoning, and we had to redirect her to a shuttle. But everybody's here now, and everyone's safe and alive. And I'm not even tormenting the unconscious.

Time to get to work on The Brightest Fell, but I wanted to make sure people were aware that for right now, if you want me, email me. It's seriously the only way to be sure.

Hey, folks. So...

1. I am still in Seattle, land of weather that is entirely alien to me.

2. I'm not dead. I'm just experiencing some rather awesome technical difficulties when it comes to accessing Livejournal. Seriously, it's like my data is being delivered by carrier pigeon. I can post -- barely -- but answering comments is a task akin to stumping the Sphinx at Trivial Pursuit. So posting will remain infrequent until a) this problem is resolved, or b) I go home.

3. The house concert on the 3rd is still on, for all you local folks. The set list is smoking, and we're going to be doing a variety of songs that most of you won't have heard before. Including, terrifyingly enough, 'Dear Gina.' (I love this song like burning, it's creepy as hell, and it's always creepier live. That's just how this stuff works.) Be there or be, I don't know, elsewhere.

4. Voodoo Doughnut is quite possibly the place where good pastry gets to go when it dies. I mean, I ate a Captain Crunch doughnut. How often do you get to say things like that, in this world or in any other?

5. I've finished the latest 'Velveteen vs.' story, which will be going up here soon, and have mapped out the next six or so. My poor little superhero, she never gets any breaks. But she does occasionally get broken. Coming soon, 'Velveteen vs. the Eternal Halloween.'

6. I've also finished doing the base inks for the Conflikt II program book cover, and I'll be doing the zip-a-tone over the next few days. It's essentially made of awesome. Awesome, and tentacles. Which are essentially the same thing, so hey.

7. I've finished through chapter twenty of The Brightest Fell, also known as 'Toby Daye, book five.' My 'write far enough ahead that even if you get hit by a bus, the series can continue for years' plan is definitely working. Memo to self: avoid the bus.

8. Interpretive dance of the bacon on John Scalzi's cat = totally fun, and totally funny.

9. I do, however, miss my own cat, and expect her to start trying to destroy Oregon in her maddened rampage any day now. Which, well, would be amusing, if nothing else.

10. I don't really have a tenth thing. The list just looked incomplete and a little bit lonely when I tried to leave it off at nine, so I figured I'd come up with something. What I have come up with is, apparently, the fact that I got nothin'.

How's with all of you?

My efforts to clear all the built-up comments on my LJ (going through my inbox, responding to the ones that want responding to, making sure things are generally tidy) has just been thwarted by my utter and complete exhaustion. It doesn't help that I'm facing a jam-packed weekend of thrilling goodness, including...

* The first pumpkin patch of the season! More, the first pumpkin patch of the season with a small child! Because nothing says 'it's October now, honey,' like forcing my friend Michelle to wrestle me and Kaia in a field of giant orange squash.

* Trying to pass the 75 page mark in the current end-to-end rewrite of Late Eclipses of the Sun! Because it is absolutely vital that the fourth Toby book be finished before the first one is available in stores, don't you know. Behold my crazy. It's definitely beholding you.

* Making progress on my Grant's Pass story! I swear, if I didn't think the editor would hunt me down with a chainsaw, I'd consider dropping out of this anthology, because my story is cursed. Seriously, seriously cursed. I work on it, I get Martian death plague. Finishing it may unleash the pandemic. If that happens, blame Jennifer.

* My monthly Firefly RPG session! This week, Cherry probably shoots something (or blows something up), Archer makes a snarky comment, Levi is vague and priestly, and Jerrika eats something humans were never meant to put in their faces. Bet you a dollar I'm right.

* A good friend's birthday party at some BBQ joint I've never heard of! Now, I am not a big eater of meat. Or vegetables. Or anything beyond candy corn, tomato sandwiches, and pumpkin products. This is going to be hysterical.

So yeah, I'm going to go and fall over now. I hope you all have jam-packed weekends filled with excitement and fun, and while I may not be around until Monday, I promise not to unleash my obedient dinosaur army without warning you.