Cherie Priest

I took the day off, and I spent it by myself — slushing through the after-Christmas sales, and entertaining myself with cheap doo-dads and lunch. I probably shouldn’t have spent the money, but it was relaxing; and since finishing Draft Zero of Clementine, I really needed the downtime. Oh well. I regret nothing. And now I give you bullets.

• Fathom at Amazon. Naturally, the first Amazon review is filled to the brim with “meh.” But if anyone who read the book enjoyed it, and if Amazon will let you,* I’m not above begging for public commentary.

• Those Who Went Remain There Still builds up steam. Whoever this speculative fiction junkie may be, I am tremendously grateful to him/her for the kind sentiments.

• A very Florida Christmas. Click to go see shots from my holiday vacation, though please pardon my general, “Oh God, I’ve just spent a week with my family” ragged-out appearance.

• Cool vintage family photos. As has been pointed out by assorted internet commenters, my grandmother looked like a young Milla Jovovich, my mom was a hottie, and I now have my own shot of early 19th century nurses. I have more pictures to scan in later, but I don’t have time to do it right now. Stay tuned.
  

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* Several people have emailed to say that Amazon wouldn’t let them leave a review, usually for some derivative of the reason, “You didn’t buy it from us” — even though at least two of the emailers did, in fact, order the book from Amazon. So. Yeah. I don’t know what to say to that.

I know I’ve been scarce since my return from Florida, but I have a most excellent excuse. Behold — here’s the final Draft Zero progress on my steampunk novella about a runaway-slave- turned-air-pirate and his lost Confederate war dirigible, a mysterious doomsday weapon, and a disenfranchised southern spy who’s gone to work for the Pinkerton National Detective Agency — now with Bonus! military intrigue and a gentle old scientist who’s slowly losing his mind:

Project: The Clementine
New Words Written Today: 5486 (BOO-YAH)
New Words Written Since Last Report: 24,371
Present Total Word Count: 57,065
Goal: Well and truly exceeded on all points.





Fiction Things Accomplished: All of them. And a super-brief epilogue. (It’s the text of a telegram sent to Allan Pinkerton.)

Real Life Things Accomplished: Nibbled on cheese and crackers and holiday cookies all day. Eschewed the internet. Tore through the final chapters to achieve Draft Zero, which tickles me pink.

What’s Next: Next, I’m going to let it sit for 24 hours — then cut it down to a Draft One that I can pass on to Schafer. Ideally, I’d like to reduce the word count on this one by at least 5000 words (as I think some of the earlier sections are unnecessarily fluffed, and bits ought to be excised); and I’ll deliver this first solid draft on New Year’s Day.

Reason for Stopping: Excessive squee and general need to get away from my laptop.

Total Fiction Words Composed in 2008: 331,914 — Which will likely be my year-end total. It’s a respectable figure, if somewhat short of what I’d hoped. Still, I count myself a fairly happy camper. This is absolutely the most I’ve ever written in any given year of my life, and I’m frankly rather proud of myself.

I’m back in Seattle, and I have no idea where to begin the task of catching up on the internet goings-on while I was out of town. I think the best I can do is start from scratch, saying, “I’m here again, and if I’ve missed anything important, please pass it along.”

Anyway. Due to today’s Big Melt I was able to move my car to a spot that won’t get me ticketed; I did some grocery shopping and cleaned house a little; I wrote and rewrote, and I removed a fat chunk of text that I decided I didn’t like; I called Bill Schafer and he totally saved my life (long story); and basically, I’ve just done some decompressing.

I spend a lot of time by myself these days, working from home while my husband is at the office — and even when it’s the two of us, things are typically quiet; so spending a week back at the family homestead would have been exhausting even without the travel headaches that began and concluded the holiday. My family is large, and loud, and it gets louder every year — partly because my grandmother, mother, and aunts are all getting hard-of-hearing … and every one of them is intensely nosey.

Sample conversation:

Me, to Tricia: Is that the sweater I gave you?
Tricia: Yeah, I wear it all the time.
Mom, overhears: What?
Me: Nothing. I was just asking about her sweater.
Mom: Didn’t you give her that sweater?
Me: Yes. She says she wears it all the time.
Mom: You know, she wears that thing all the time.
Aunt Wanda, overhears: Who?
Me: What?
Aunt Wanda: What about that sweater?
Me: I gave it to her. She wears it all the time.
Aunt Wanda: Oh, you gave her that?
Me: Yes. Before I moved to Seattle.
Aunt Wanda: I swear, she wears that thing all the time.
Aunt Marlene, overhears: What does she wear all the time?
Me: That sweater. The one she’s wearing now.
Aunt Marlene: Didn’t you give that to her?
Me: Yes.
Grandma, overhears: Who wears it all the time?
Me: Tricia. That sweater. I gave it to her.
Grandma: Where’d she get it?
Me: I gave it to her. Before we moved to Seattle.

[:: ad infinitum ::]

These conversations are all shouted at top volume, usually while the television is turned up all the way in the background. It’s a little overwhelming, repeating yourself incessantly and sharing a household with a sister, a brother-in-law, seven cousins (plus one spouse and one toddler), two aunts, one great aunt, my mom, and one grandma. Some of the older cousins (including the one with a toddler) booked hotel rooms nearby, but mostly everyone hung around grandma’s place and it was a nonstop riot of coming, going, last-minute Christmas shopping, and waiting for a bathroom.

But it was a lot of fun, and I took a lot of pictures, which I’m still working on getting uploaded. When I’m done, I’ll post a link to the set; and you can go look at them if you want … or don’t, yanno. Whatever.

For now, I’m going to post this and get myself some supper. But before I go, I’ll post the only dry-blogging entry I managed to write while I was in Florida. It’s short but sweet, and I’ll put it behind a jump.

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Am alive. Am also badly parked in about half a foot of snow, across the street from my apartment and far too close to a stop sign; but I’m willing to risk the ticket, because my poor little car isn’t moving another inch until the snow has had some time to melt up here. It wasn’t bad on the main roads, but our neighborhood on the hill has gone unplowed and there’s still probably, oh, I don’t know … maybe 6-8 inches of snow up here, in places.

I’d write more, but I’m feeling the need to crash in a figurative sense, since I’ve come so close, so many times (over the last hour) to crashing in a more literal fashion.

Have a good evening, everyone.

[:: raises a glass ::]
[:: unpacks just enough to wash face and brush teeth ::]
[:: hits the hay ::]

Oh yeah. THIS is why I come home to Florida so rarely, even though I love it here.

As you may well recall from my previous post, getting to my home state was a real bear. Now it appears that going back to Seattle is going to be a real picnic too.

My original flight was scheduled to leave the Orlando airport around one, then it was pushed back to two thirty, and finally to 4:30 … at which point I managed to weasel my way onto an earlier flight, leaving at 1:40 … only once they got us on the plane, they announced that everything in Atlanta is b0rked all to hell and they won’t let us take off until 4:00. So they deplaned us (a personal first, by the way) and now I’m sitting in the waiting area, for we’ve been told to stick around in case something changes.

In other news, precious little in the way of airline traffic is coming or going from Atlanta due to what appears to be some kind of colossal power problem. There is an excellent chance that my connecting flight — even if I magically manage to catch it — will not be leaving tonight after all. In the event of such an occurrence, then yes, it will mean another night in an airport or hotel; and it will also mean that this one-week visit to Florida was bookended by a grand total of four days of travel that would drive a saint to drink.

I could tell you that I’m taking this all in stride, and that all is zen with the world, but frankly I’m tempted to writhe around on the floor screaming like a toddler. It is literally all I can do to sit here and not punch babies. But my laptop battery is about to die, and outlets around here are as rare as virgins in a biker bar, and twice as popular. So I’d better log off and find some other way to keep myself off the security watchlist.

So I’m sitting in a hotel lobby with my cousin, and when he’s finished checking his work email, we have to leave (he’s driving. I go when he goes). But I wanted to let everyone know I’m alive, and that I’m in Florida, and that it’s beautiful here, and that yes — I know it’s a winter wonderland in Seattle right now. Hell, it was a winter wonderland before I left; in fact, it seems I made it out to Salt Lake City on one of the last flights that left SeaTac for a day or two.

This has been — and I say this as someone who has flown regularly since I was a small child — the absolute worst travel experience of my life. It is not to be exaggerated, nor believed. It took me two full days to reach Florida via four planes, a missed flight or two or three, and 48 hours without sleep or internet.

However, during my long hours of stranded boredom, I did in fact do a bit of “dry blogging”*. So beneath the following “Read More” cut, I’m posting my extended, protracted, uncut adventures in travel. Keep in mind, this will only bring you up to my arrival in Orlando, and does not include any wacky family adventures. Those will come later.

But if you’re curious, or if you’d like to commiserate, or if you only want to point at my misery and laugh, well, here you go. Click below.
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All righty, folks. Tomorrow morning — provided that the Puget Sound SNOWPOCALYPSE remains at bay* — I’ll be winging my way toward Florida for the holidays. I’m flying into Orlando and then riding out to my grandmother’s place in a part of the state that could best be described as the Geographic Center of Godforsaken, Nowhere; and my internet access will be spotty at best.

Let me put it this way: There’s a library a few miles away. If there’s free WIFI available any closer, you couldn’t prove it by me.

So yes, I’ll be dropping by the library from time to time, but I will be at the mercy of other people’s cars and I cannot promise any regular correspondence until after the holidays. Ergo, if you don’t get a response from me by bedtime tonight, then there’s no telling when I’ll be able to get back to you. If it’s super-duper important, the odds are good that you have my phone number and can simply call me, anyway.

Everyone, everywhere — I hope you have a marvelous holiday season peppered with most excellent gifts, really good food, and family gatherings that end without charges being pressed.

Have a good one.
Next time I post (Lord willing and the snow don’t stack), it’ll be from the Sunshine State.

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* North and south of Seattle have been hit hard, but for about 20 miles around the city, all’s cold — but clear. For now. [:: crosses fingers ::]

Here’s today’s progress on my steampunk novella about a runaway-slave- turned-air-pirate and his lost Confederate war dirigible, a mysterious doomsday weapon, and a disenfranchised southern spy who’s gone to work for the Pinkerton National Detective Agency — now with Bonus! military intrigue and a gentle old scientist who’s slowly losing his mind:

Project: The Clementine
New Words Written Today: 3008 (not bad!)
Present Total Word Count: 35,702
Goal: 45,000 words (Yes. Must stop pretending.)





Fiction Things Accomplished: If I told you that Belle Boyd was manning (the equivalent of) a ball turret gun on a stolen Union warbird called the Valkyrie while Croggon Hainey thrashes a Yankee cruiser and two security detail dirigibles … would you, or would you not, TOTALLY THROW THE HORNS AND ADMIT THAT THIS ROCKS THE FUCK OUT???!!!

Real Life Things Accomplished: Less rocking out. Sent little brother Christmas present; made student loan payment; got hair cut (trimmed up, anyway); went to the bank to take care of things; went to the drug store to pick up a few travel items; splurged and got lunch at Subway.

Reason for Stopping: Need for packing, doing dishes, making bed, charging up all electronic items for holiday travel, etcetera. Will make another post explaining self in a few minutes.

Total Fiction Words Composed in 2008: 310,551

• [:: dies and is ded ::] If you’re here via Warren, then I welcome you most heartily. Make yourselves at home. Click around. Drop me a comment or two. I’m always happy to hear from new readers and passers-through alike.

• Cute Things Falling Asleep. Via my husband, who apparently did not want me to get ANY work done today. At all.

• Don’t forget about the B&N Bookclub thread. I’m lurking around, answering questions and generally being social.
  

Here’s today’s progress on my steampunk novella about a runaway-slave- turned-air-pirate and his lost Confederate war dirigible, a mysterious doomsday weapon, and a disenfranchised southern spy who’s gone to work for the Pinkerton National Detective Agency — now with Bonus! military intrigue and a gentle old scientist who’s slowly losing his mind:

Project: The Clementine
New Words Written Today: 5586 (HUZZAH)
Present Total Word Count: 32,694
Goal: 40,000 words (Okay. Almost certainly more like 45,000, but for now, it stands.)





Fiction Things Accomplished: Our hero and heroine have finally clashed — and clashed badly. But they’re sort of stuck with each other for the moment, lest they all get blown to high heaven because God knows, you don’t go firing live ammunition around massive tanks of hydrogen … no matter how much you’d really, really, really like to shoot at each other.

Real Life Things Accomplished: Did three loads of laundry, but failed to make the bed due to the cat’s insistence that the pile of warm bedding isn’t going anywhere; cleaned the fish tank so that Howard gets new plants for Christmas before I leave town; did some pre-packing for the trip to Florida; tried not to fret over the impending move next month.

Reason for Stopping: Exhaustion. Desire to make supper.

Total Fiction Words Composed in 2008: 307,543

Booklist likes Those Who Went Remain There Still. The review — which I’ve added to my “Reviews” page, surprisingly enough — includes such blurb-worthy snippets as … “Priest spices the narrative with frequent flashbacks to Boone’s own beastly encounters during his trail-cutting days. Ultimately, the gore and the feathers are a bit overdone, though all for the sake of good, gratuitous fun.” You hear that? You people who grouse that I’m not splatter-prone enough? WELL HERE YOU GO. This is the book for you.

Speaking of Subterranean Press … Since the announcement for this has already gone to Locus, it’s safe to declare here: Starting next year, I’ll be working for that fine company on a technical basis as well as a creative one. The inimitable Bill is taking me on board as an associate editor, which is a timely and groovy thing, and I’m very, very excited.*

Looking for Fathom in Seattle? Yes, I know it’s sold out at the Pacific Place Barnes & Noble. More have been ordered. If you’d like to order a copy online to skip the holiday crowds, you can do so at Amazon.com, at Barnes & Noble, or direct from the publisher.

Speaking of Fathom vis-a-vis Barnes & Noble … the B&N bookclub forums are hopping with discussion on the topic. In that thread you’ll find an interview Kat Richardson conducted with me awhile back for Tor, nattering about how the book came about, and a bit of chatter regarding upcoming projects.

And now, my fine and upstanding readers (as well as everyone else), I’m going to log off and pretend I don’t have any internet for the rest of the day. I have lots of work to do, many errands left to run, and only a few hours of daylight to burn. I’ll hop back online early this evening to play catch-up, but for now, please consider me AWOL and typing like a mad thing.

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* I’ll be proofreading, copywriting, and these sorts of tasks. In addition to granting me the world’s best boss, this gig will also give me some much-needed money security and the flexibility I need to continue to chase my fiction career; so truly, this is a Christmas miracle.

We can has it. We can also have one mightily unimpressed cat, who will wait out this whole “snow” thing from the safety and comfort of her electric heating pad and her favorite blankie, thank you very much.

In other news — and I regret to confess that you can’t see it in the picture below — Spain the Cat has a marvelous new pink collar with skulls on it, courtesy of Psynde, who is entirely too kind.

[Insert witty transition here.]

Last night, me and the Cap Hill Crew (Aric, Psynde, and Ellen) drove out to Lacey for a Christmas party at the home of the marvelous Mark Henry. It was, and I do not say this lightly, a ridiculous amount of fun — and I thank him and his wife most profusely for including us.

Seriously. If you ever get a chance to crash … oh hell, any given party, thrown anywhere, wherein Mark is a participant … for the love of all that’s holy, you must attend.

But on the off chance that (a). you don’t know Mark personally, or (b). you live out of party reach, then you should do the next best thing and buy his books. They are filthy, fabulous, and funny as hell … and I am now lucky enough to have an ARC of Road Trip of the Living Dead right here in my hot little hands — but I will do my best not to gloat.

Nobody — but nobody — does outrageous zombie bitches like Mark. But you mustn’t take my word for it. You must pick up Happy Hour of the Damned and see for yourself.

[Insert witty transition the second.]

Time for me to log off now. Ellen’s cookie party will be underway shortly, and I’m feeling the need to straighten up my own abode in case of cookie party run-off or visitors. Have a wonderful rest-of-the-weekend, everyone, and may you find cookies of your own to nom.

Here’s today’s progress on my steampunk novella about a runaway-slave- turned-air-pirate and his lost Confederate war dirigible, a mysterious doomsday weapon, and a disenfranchised southern spy who’s gone to work for the Pinkerton National Detective Agency — now with Bonus! military intrigue and a gentle old scientist who’s slowly losing his mind:

Project: The Clementine
New Words Written Today: 2084
Present Total Word Count: 27,108
Goal: 40,000 words





Fiction Things Accomplished: Maria has run into an old colleague, who she allows to draw some incorrect conclusions; Croggon’s engineer has infiltrated a prospective new aircraft that they will have to steal before they can fly.

Reason for Stopping: Tonight is a Christmas party at the Henry’s place, and the weather seems to be holding at “Cold as hell, but not at all wet” over here in my neck of the woods — so I suspect we’ll likely be attending. It’s a potluck event and I need to arrange for something to bring, and my apartment is a little bit trashed. I’d like to straighten up and freshen up before we get the crew together for the wee little caravan.

Total Fiction Words Composed in 2008: 301,957 (WOOT!)

As most of you know, we adopted our in-house heat-seeking sleep-bomb from a shelter in Red Bank, Tennessee, about seven years ago. She’s been the joy of our household ever since, and I’d like to think that, perhaps, we’ve improved her quality of life as well.

So here comes Christmas, and the economy sucks, and pet surrenderings are up all over the place, stuffing shelters to the brim and costing thousands of cats and dogs their lives — just because there’s nowhere for them to go. But here in the Seattle area, the Humane Society would like to make it as easy as possible for you to bring home something warm and fuzzy for the holidays.

Free cat adoptions at the Seattle Humane Society.

The Seattle Humane Society invites you to adopt a cat - and the fee is on them! Seattle Humane is brimming with cats - 239 to be exact. The facility holds 150 cats comfortably; most of the remainder have to go into kitty foster homes. The staff says for some reason, cat adoptions are down here and at shelters across the nation.

“We don’t know if it’s because of the economy because more people are downsizing to apartments where they aren’t able to have cats, or there’s a pet fee that they can’t afford, we aren’t sure what the problem is,” said Amber Yoo, Humane Society Marketing Communications Manager.

In order to get the numbers down, for the rest of the month, Seattle Humane is waiving the $80 adoption fee for any cat over a year old. The hope is to find all of these cats a home for the holidays…

Tonight, at the University District bookstore in Seattle, I’ll be reading/signing with the lovely and talented Caitlin Kittredge at 7:00 p.m. All locals are most vigorously invited to attend.

In other news, between surprise out-of-towners, sudden new apartments, signings, Christmas events, and my upcoming trip to Florida … I’m doing my damndest to keep my writing momentum up, and not succeeding to the fullest extent of my abilities. It’s just that all these distractions are so much fun and sometimes writing is not. (Or at least, writing looks like work in comparison to tootling around town with friends and going to holiday parties.) But in my defense, I’m maintaining a bare minimum of a thousand words a day, and generally doing better than that.

So here’s the recent progress on my steampunk novella about a runaway-slave- turned-air-pirate and his lost Confederate war dirigible, a mysterious doomsday weapon, and a disenfranchised southern spy who’s gone to work for the Pinkerton National Detective Agency — now with Bonus! military intrigue and a gentle old scientist who’s slowly losing his mind:

Project: The Clementine
New Words Written Today: 4781 (over the last couple of days)
Present Total Word Count: 25,024
Goal: 40,000 words





Fiction Things Accomplished: Our fearsome air pirate learns that he’s being chased and is none too pleased to hear of it; his chaser has to hop an open-air, two-seater flying apparatus from Jefferson City to Kansas City, which leaves our steel magnolia bloody well freezing to death and in something of a terrible temper.

Reason for Stopping: Even though I’ve only done about 2000 words today, I’m dead tired and sort of feeling strung out. I’d like to take an hour or two to unwind or freshen up before meeting up with Team Seattle (at least, those of us who are presently in town and available) for Indian food in Fremont; and then, of course, we must dash off to the U-district for this signing. I should probably, like, I don’t know. Brush my teeth or something.

Total Fiction Words Composed in 2008: 299,873 (SO CLOSE.)

• Tomorrow evening, Seattle-area locals: At 7:00 p.m. I’ll be joining Caitlin Kittredge for a reading and signing at the University District Bookstore. Other Team Seattle folks will be in attendance, and all are welcome to join us. I’ll be reading from Fathom, and Caitlin will be reading from the second book in her bestselling Nocturne City series.

• Speaking of Fathom, the marvelous Colleen Mondor has some kind and thoughtful things to say about it. She also has a handful of other holiday recommendations for the readers on your Christmas list.

• Does anyone know if this made it into the print version of the Seattle Times today? Just curious.

• I’ve written another 3000 words or so on The Clementine since last I reported, which is not as much as I ought to have accomplished, but there have been extenuating circumstances.

• Speaking of extenuating circumstances, as some of you already know, it turns out that Aric and I will be moving. In the middle of next month. One whole block. It’s both a long story and a short story, but to keep it on the brief side: We’re sick to death of all the problems with our current apartment (so oft documented here), and with the help of “Eagle Eyes” Ellen we’ve spotted and landed a much nicer place nearby, for about the same rent.

• That bullet point was running long, so I’ll just make a new one. It’s a “historic” brick building (built circa 1920) that’s been very nicely maintained by the family who owns it. The apartment within is a couple hundred square feet bigger than our present abode, with lovely hardwood floors (much nicer than our trashy disco parquet), fabulous high ceilings with trim and moldings, a cast iron clawfoot tub, lots of windows, a view of the Cascades — and on-site management, laundry, and storage. It’s perfectly beautiful, and although we’d really like to buy a place someday, that’s not likely to happen within the next year or two … so we hopped on the upgrade opportunity.

• One last bullet, to break up the tedium. Yes, we are aware that we’ll be moving in the middle of January. No, we are not thrilled by this. Yes, it’s going to suck. But it’ll be worth it, and we’ll be happier for having made the seasonally inconvenient effort.

Aric and I just got home from Pinkapalooza 2, where we rocked it out with Wil Wheaton and Ed Brubaker (plus his very cool wife, Mel).

Truly this was one kick-ass evening.

[:: nod nod ::]
[:: throws the horns ::]

The day has finally arrived — for upon this morn, my fifth novel hits the streets. Hypothetically, if all goes according to plan, you ought to find Fathom on the shelves at finer retail establishments everywhere. This pleases me on a number of levels, not least of all because it’s this month’s selection for the Barnes & Noble paranormal bookclub — where the discussion is already underway; and the preliminary critical reception has been very, very good.

Publishers Weekly gave it a starred review; Booklist says that Fathom is a “character-driven yarn … unlike anything else in contemporary fantasy.” Even Kirkus didn’t hate it, calling it “Pleasantly offbeat, with plenty of vivid, compelling action sequences.”

But maybe you’re asking yourself, “Self, what’s it about?” Well folks, let me offer up a short summary I originally concocted as flap copy (because what we actually used is significantly longer, and I’m trying my best to keep this kind of short):

An ageless water witch schemes to bring old gods back to glory, but awakening the Leviathan is no small feat–and it’s none too compatible with the survival of humanity. Nevertheless, a handful of ambitious villains are open to recruitment and the ranks of darkness fill with surprising speed. Aided by an eighteenth-century Spanish pirate and his deranged young lover, the witch strives to bring about the end of the world.

But between the cracks hide forgotten old things. Ignored–but far from powerless–they claim a hero of their own. The soul they salvage was destined for a watery grave, but the timing is right and the lingering elementals have better ideas.

Now the End of Days is challenged by a strange and powerful new creature, distilled from stone by a servant of the earth who refuses to surrender his green fields and muddy plains. Not yet. Add to his arsenal a hapless insurance inspector and the irate priest of a fire god, and suddenly rural Florida doesn’t seem quite so sleepy anymore.

Though it’s definitely a fable for adults, one of the point-of-view characters is a teenager; so it has been suggested that this might make a good Christmas gift for the adventure-loving adolescent on your list. If you’d like to know what your young reader could expect from a “Parental Controls” standpoint, feel free to email me and I’ll be happy to fill you in.

And while I’m on the subject of this book, please bear with me while I make an impassioned, humble plea: If you’ve ever thought about picking up my fiction, and you’ve never read anything but this blog … then please consider nabbing this novel; or if you’ve been keeping up with my fiction career all along, then first of all I thank you most profusely — and second, please stick with me on this one. This is my first wide-release hardback novel, and hardbacks by writers like me typically don’t sell very well. The truth is, I have a lot riding on Fathom, and there’s a lot working against it.

So. Anyway, yes. I thank you for your time, for your readership, and your support. I’d greatly appreciate it if you’d link this post around, or perhaps make recommendations to your friends, or even leave Amazon.com or BN.com reviews once you’ve read the book. You guys are the best, and it’s a privilege to show you my kitty videos and pirate scars.

Order Fathom at Amazon.com
Order Fathom at Barnes & Noble
Order Fathom direct from the publisher

[Edited to add: I’m having truly terrible internet issues at home — and in fact, right now I’m piggybacking off an unsecured neighbor’s network out of pure desperation, which makes me uncomfortable on a number of levels. But anyway, I apologize in advance for any undue silence to comments or emails; and rest assured, I’m wracking my brain trying to fix it.]

I’ve been having hideous connectivity issues all day, but following a rampage of resetting settings, retweaking tweakings, and enough swearing to curdle milk … I seem to be back online. On the upshot, I’ve gotten a lot of work done.

So here’s today’s progress on my steampunk novella about a runaway-slave- turned-air-pirate and his lost Confederate war dirigible, a mysterious doomsday weapon, and a disenfranchised southern spy who’s gone to work for the Pinkerton National Detective Agency — now with Bonus! military intrigue and a gentle old scientist who’s slowly losing his mind:

Project: The Clementine
New Words Written Today: 7123* (BOO-YAH)
Present Total Word Count: 20,243
Goal: 40,000 words





Fiction Things Accomplished: Maria Boyd shares dirigible space with a kind-of-creepy guy who is probably up to no good, but she arrives safely in St. Louis regardless; Croggon Hainey and crew settle in to Kansas City, and plot to steal a new ship to take them farther east — in search of the Clementine.

Real Life Things Accomplished: Made two trips to the postal place down the block, carrying packages of Christmas presents; did a little housework; played tag with the cat; not much else.

Reason for Stopping: I’m wiped out. And also, my internet has returned. It’s time to relax a little bit; it’s not like I’ve been slacking off all day or anything. Husband will be home in an hour or two; maybe I’ll get all Betty Homemaker on him and have supper waiting.

Total Fiction Words Composed in 2008: 295,092 (OMG! I ought to break 300,000 within the next couple of days!)

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* But in all honesty, about 1500 of those words were composed over the weekend.

Last night, the very last of the surgical glue worked its way out of my eyebrow and now my face is a little more naked than it was this time two weeks ago. The glue kind of … ate at the eyebrow hair — so that when it finally wore off in clumps, it (a). looked rather revoltingly like a giant hairy scab, and (b). took the eyebrow hair with it. Fortunately, I have kicky bangs that hide the bald brow damn near perfectly. Unfortunately, my exhibitionist streak compels me to show you what it looks like anyway.

[Edited to add: If you’re late to the party, here’s what happened to cause the eyebrow mutilation.]

Because some of my readers are a smidge squeamish, I’m putting this under the jump; but for what it’s worth, it’s not gross or anything. It’s just a jagged pink line over my left eye. Grosser by far is the fact that I’m not wearing even a smudge of make-up.

Click below if you’re nasty.
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• FATHOM gets a wee, friendly nod from iO9. Now that I’ve been mentioned on a Gawker blog, does that mean I can finally, with relative impunity I will be forced to start flashing my lack of panties and punching photographers?

• Otherwise, I still have nothing thrilling to report, just reading and housework, I’m afraid — but hey, two kitty videos in a row, right? Silver lining, and all that. In today’s installment of Spain the Cat Makes a Nuisance of Herself, you’ll see why I need a smaller ass these days.

I don’t have any real content to offer today, so I shall instead succumb to reader demands that in lieu of scintillating text, I must post pictures or video of Spain the Cat. So, fine. All right. I woke her up from her grueling mid-day, multi-hour nap in order to capture the following footage.

I rather expect that it will change your life.

It’s been a busy, productive day — but not one that makes for scintillating blogging, I fear. I went to the grocery store, and I read until my eyeballs were about to fall out of my head. The result: beef stroganoff for supper; and I’m now on page 503 out of 720 on that freelance proofreading project, and I finally got around to reading through a friend’s holiday cookbook (just perusing it for typos, consistency, etc.).

See? Boring blogging. Yes, well. Such are the things that eat up my days when I’m not shamelessly hustling to scare up preorders for the next book. I wish I had something else to tell you, but I don’t; and tomorrow isn’t looking any more thrilling. I mean, in addition to more reading, I might get some writing done, and I’ll probably bop down the block to the postal store in order to ship some stuff.

So if things are somewhat quiet over here for a bit, now you know why.

At the risk of inspiring absolute burn-out among readers who are sick of hearing about Fathom … I have yet more news on its status. As you know if you clicked yesterday’s link, my author copies arrived yesterday — which may well mean that you’ll be able to find it in bookstores within the next couple of days, depending.*

• But if you’d like a sneak peek, Bookspot Central is hosting a sample chapter, for your reading pleasure. That-there is actually chapter two, but it’s a safe enough place to start for preliminary tasting purposes.

• And the Barnes & Noble bookclub forums are already buzzing. Many thanks once again to Paul Goat Allen for the invitation and the opportunity; and although the book isn’t technically available yet, people are already lobbing questions at me — and I’m doing my best to answer. Click through to read the interrogations, the responses, and hints of things to come.
  

And finally, because my shamelessness knows no bounds, I give you links for preordering purposes, should you be so inclined:

Order Fathom at Amazon.com
Order Fathom at Barnes & Noble
Order Fathom direct from the publisher

Thanks for reading, everyone, and have a damn fine day. I must now log off and get to work.

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* Since I’m not a big name, destined for important sales lists, many bookstores simply unload the novel as soon as they receive it — rather than waiting for the official street date of December 9th.

One drawback to being part of a large family (I’m one of 9 grandkids on my immediate generational tier) is that Christmas shopping is a task to rival the labors of Hercules. But despite the fact that I am (as previously noted) eyeballs deep in freelance work and The Clementine, I declared a brief hiatus in order to knock down all that shopping in just a couple of days — and by and large, I can call Das Shopperdammerung a success. I lack gifts only for my little brother and my grandmother; Grandma’s presents will be collected in Florida, and my little brother’s needs to be ordered. Ditto, I’d like to order one or two presents more for my husband, but these things will arrive on my doorstep and no further action is required on my part.

At this very moment, every single gift is wrapped and awaiting either a holding box or a brown paper covering for shipping. Not because I rock, no — but because I am neurotic and obsessive, and I must have ALL THINGS SETTLED way ahead of time. This particular neuroses ties directly to my MUST BE PUNCTUAL FOR EVERYTHING neuroses, as well as my Leonine glee in buying presents for other people. So it’s not like I can just resist the urge or anything. My hunting and gathering instincts are strong, and they will not be denied.

So now I can get back to the business of fretting over my laptop’s contents in order to earn money. Likewise, I can also resume checking the mail with my usual regularity … which has already led to a moment of unutterable squee when I realized I had a package waiting for me downstairs.

Click the jump to break off a piece of my holiday joy!
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• Mark Henry is in da house. I wasn’t the only one who scheduled a revamp of my website; lo and behold, my buddy Mark has done likewise. If you haven’t picked up either of his books yet, please allow me to most heartily recommend them. Obscene, hilarious, and about fifty different kinds of messy, Mark writes funny with a dash of honest horror and real adventure, and he makes it look easy — which is one of the toughest tricks in the world. So go check out his new site. Poke around. Make a nuisance of yourself. Tell him I said, “Hi!”

• Booklist weighs in on FATHOM. They liked it! They liked it! [At least, it sounds like they liked it …?] Click that-there link to go read it on my freshly updated “Reviews” page (it’s the first one, top of the page); and if you are so moved, you can preorder it here. I promise, it will make a most excellent Christmas gift for the dark fantasy fan on your list.