reasons i suck

Items of (dubious) interest

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From a former book publicist: What should air on C-SPAN’s “Book TV” this weekend. Well, I thought it was funny.

Twenty Best Cthulhu Tales–I’ve only read a fraction of the stories on this list, but I’m copying it here so I can reference it later. Mythos! I love it.

Man writes book that will take a thousand years to read. Embarrassingly, after 750 years, readers will discover that he used “it’s” when he should have written “its.”

This next one is off the (accidental) book theme of this post, but I do hope you’ll all read it: Urban Farmer finds success. So cool.

As for items of a non-linking variety: Tomorrow I get one of my birthday gifts–reading time. Just like Father’s Day, I’m going to spend a significant amount of time sacked out in bed with a book. I still have Spirit Gate by Kate Elliott on deck, and I hope to make a sizable dent in it.

Also, I’m told that Child of Fire will have the opening chapter of book 2 at the very back. Now, this is cool news, but I should come right out and say that I never read preview excerpts in books.  Invariably, I buy the excerpted book, put it on my shelf for a couple months (or years) and when I finally start it, I get a disturbing reader’s deja vu.  “Have I read this already?”  Since I’m terrible with titles, I can never be sure. 

Eventually, I just swore off the practice. 

And book 2, Everyone Loves Blue Dog, will soon have a new title.  There’s a current front runner, but I don’t want to talk about it until things are settled.  The happiest part for me is that I like this title and it doesn’t turn up in a Google search. 

With that, I’ll sign off to enjoy the holiday.

In which I link to things

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Because I am boring and can not spare the attention it takes to express a coherent opinion, here are some links:

1) [Deleted]

2) “Call me an ignorant Swede, but the last thing I thought possible in the U.S. was that you banned books.”

3) The NY Times on my favorite food. I’m almost afraid to read it.

4) This makes me want to hide under my desk, and it’s just a couple of pictures on a website. NB: that link is not for people who have issues with high places.

5) Gay sex decriminalized in New Delhi. Change may be slow, but it’s coming (so to speak).

HNBD

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Today was my not-birthday. As I mentioned earlier, my wife and I have the same birthday, and that sucks–somebody ends up doing the dishes on their special day. So I moved my day back a month.

I don’t much like cake, so I had my traditional (melon-free) fruit salad. My son bought me a new baster and my wife gave me the same gift I got for Christmas–permission to buy a rilly rilly nice computer when the G4 Mac Mini on my desk gives up the ghost.

At this point, I’m starting to hate my old computer. I glare at it when iPhoto lags or I can’t upload video from my camera–someday it will be dead, and with Apple Care expired I will get new very very soon.

I hope.

I also had market fresh nectarines for my snack breaks at work, and a beautiful steak with sauteed mushrooms for dinner. Nice. All I need to do to make this a perfect day would be to get to bed early.

Phew!

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Laptop seems fine. The book is ruined, though.

No writing today

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Shit. I went to the Starbucks across the street from day job, sat down with my laptop and coffee, and promptly spilled the whole thing over the table. Spirit Gate by Kate Elliott is soaked through and my computer kept flashing to a white screen.

I say again: Shit.

Now I’m sitting at my desk at the day job, with computer and book resting on the air conditioning vent beside me, drying out. ::fingers crossed:: Instead, I guess I’ll work on some of the publicity stuff I’m supposed to whip up by the end of the month, and thinkerate on the characters and plot.

OMG, I have a schedule.

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So… this is weird.

Many times over the years I’ve seen authors publish their convention schedules. Well, here’s mine for the San Diego Comic-Con:

I’ll be on a panel on Thursday morning, 7/23, ten am, in Room 10. The title of the panel is “Escapist Fantasy” and I have a list of other authors who’ll be there, but I’m not sure if it’s 100% up to date.

Panelists: Juliet Blackwell (SECOND HAND SPIRITS); Marjorie Liu (DARKNESS CALLS); Jackie Kessler & Caitlin Kittredge (BLACK & WHITE); Diana Rowland (MARK OF THE DEMON); Sina Grace (CEDRIC HOLLOWS IN DIAL M for MAGIC); and Harry Connolly (CHILD OF FIRE).

Moderator: Maryelizabeth Hart, Mysterious Galaxy

That’s not all! I’ll also be signing ARCs of Child of Fire at the Del Rey/Spectra booth on Saturday, 7/25 from 11am to 11:30.

I promise nothing but nervous stammers and flop sweat! But if you want your book truly personalized, after I sign it, I’ll be happy to bite it hard enough to leave my one-of-a-kind tooth marks on the cover. How can you miss a chance like that?

Oh, thank you, book, you insidious bastard

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I just did slightly more than three thousand words on Man Bites World. I know some writers do that every day, but I have never written so many words of prose in one day. That’s huge for me.

Book, you are annoying. Like golf. Like jigsaw puzzles. You are frustrating and impossible for days and days, and then suddenly you give a short term accomplishment. This is great! I think. And fun, too! I need to do this all the time!

But I know your sneaky ways. Tomorrow, you’re just as likely to be impossible again.

::shakes fist at laptop::

(They were good pages, too. I’m happy with them.)

The Trouble With Deep One

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I can’t resist this one.

I dreamed that my son and I were at a beach house vacation with a couple buddies of mine. While my son was out, we were attacked by a Deep One; the three of us killed it, but we had no idea what to do with the body in broad daylight–I was half convinced there was a real person under a suit I couldn’t find.

Then my father arrived for a visit. He was much different than I remember when he was alive 18 years ago (he seemed like an old man) and there was some farcical rushing around as he cleaned up the place and my buddies had to hide the boy from him. Then, suddenly, we were having a big party; my father wanted to hang with me, my son kept misbehaving and I had no idea where the Deep One’s body was. In that room? That one? Where could I give my son a time out where my father, trailing behind, wouldn’t trip over a monster’s corpse?

In other (non-)news…

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I’m suddenly way behind on everything except my daily word goals. All social networking sites, my day job, email responses, the Q&A I’m supposed to do for the very nice guy at Random House, all of it.

Having my son home from school has upset my routine. Time to make a new one.

Two Things on a Satwosday

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First, via Emma Bull:

Oktapodi from Asım Varol on Vimeo.

I can’t wait to show that to my family when I get home.

Second, I just finished The Gift of Fear by Gavin de Becker. If you know the book already, you know why it’s great. If you don’t, you should definitely read it. Let me talk about something briefly, though.

Three days a week, I ride the bus to downtown for my day job. Part of the trip involves a fairly high bridge. Now, I have a thing about heights, so I sometimes sit on the right side of the bus so I will be right at the edge of the bridge (no sidewalk) looking down, hoping that I will get used to it and get over it. (There’s a name for that sort of therapy, but it escapes me for the moment and my google fu is weak today.)

Most days, though… no. I’m too tired, too stressed, too whatever. I tell myself I don’t have enough resources for that, so I ride on the left side, I close my eyes, I look up. Anything but look down while thinking of this picture.

But yesterday, I took the window seat. And by chance, I happened to read one of the final chapters in the book, about the difference between real fear and worry (a minor part of the book, really). And what Mr. de Becker said made so much sense to me that I closed the book in my lap and sat looking out the window during the bridge part of the trip.

Yeah, there was a little tingle of worry, but I have never felt such calm at the edge of a high place in my whole life.

I’ve been talking a bit here and there around the web about self-imposed limits, but this is a biggie. I’ve always been a worrier, but now I’m wondering if I’ve let my stress levels push me into self-indulgence. Fears are there to be conquered, right?