Cherie Priest

Tiny Godzilla since 1975

July 31, 2010

4 years ago, in the evening

It sounds like Clementine is starting to arrive in people’s mailboxes, and for that, I do a little happydance. Many thanks to those of you who ordered it; I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. However – apparently this bears repeating – the book is almost sold out. Due to this sell-out, you aren’t seeing it in bookstores.

If you wish to order it from Amazon.com – apparently you can do so at this time, as they DO have a few copies by my most recent information. When the availability status changes to something like “ships within 4-6 weeks,” then you know they’ve run out. So if you see that message, don’t do it. Also, right now, the book’s listing at Subterranean shows that only the limited edition is sold out; there are trade editions yet available.

If you wanted to pick up Clementine but missed the boat, never fear. Next year it will be released in trade paperback.

* * *

Random thought of the day: So Anne Rice has re-left the Catholic church. I’m seeing a lot of speculation about it – friendly and otherwise – and I’m not going to contribute to it here. But when I see the “hypocrite just needs her old sales figures” snark, I have to laugh. People, that woman has made her money. Leave her alone, already.

There’s no dignity in ganging up on a beloved cult figure of yesteryear because she looks like an easy target. It just makes you look like a bully.

* * *

Anyway, here’s today’s progress on my Hunley version 4.0 submarine book about Andan Cly and his crew having a damp misadventure in a Texian-occupied New Orleans, plus Bonus! guerrilla warfare, other assorted historic pirates, and an octoroon madam who moonlights as a Union spy.

Project: Ganymede
Deadline: November 1, 2010
New words written: 902
Present total word count: 1708 words

Things accomplished in fiction: Tweaked and re-tweaked my opener. Developed one of my two main protagonists, Josephine Early – a madam who spies for the Union in her spare time. She’s very cool and I can already tell she’s going to be fun to write; but it’s taking me a bit to get a good handle on what she looks like, what she sounds like, and what she thinks like. (This book’s other main POV is the pirate Cly, who you already met in Boneshaker.)

Things accomplished in real life: Not much, frankly. Slept in again (shouldn’t have, but did), straightened the house a bit. Mostly I spent the day on the internet, researching some of the finer points that will help me make Ganymede a better book.

Total Official Word Count of 2010: 127,732 words

July 30, 2010

4 years ago, mid-morning

Thanks so much to everyone for the birthday wishes! Let the record reflect, I have some of the most awesome readers/friends/cohorts/loonies in the world.

I slept in this morning and declared a “personal day,” which is not to say that I won’t be working – just that I woke up so late that I must skip my day-job work at this time. (Though I will probably feel guilty enough to catch up on it over the weekend, because that’s how I roll.) I don’t really have any plans today, other than “clean house because this place is filthy,” maybe “sneak in a load of laundry,” and “try to get some writing done before the husband gets home from work – at which point perhaps we will go out for supper.”

For the record, thirty-five feels warm and kind of sharp. But that might just be the fat, happy cat in my lap, kneading on my bathrobe.

Someone over on Twitter asked if I had any birthday requests, and I don’t, really. But I certainly wouldn’t stop anyone from preordering Dreadnought, since this is as good a day to do so as any – and I might be forgiven a little shameless self promo, perhaps. After all, my primary birthday wish of all time has been to get paid for writing books.*

If you have a local independent shop of preference, the booksellers there will be happy to accommodate you; as will the usual internet and big chain suspects.

Search for an independent bookseller near you
Preorder Dreadnought at Amazon.com
Preorder Dreadnought at Barnes&Noble.com
Preorder Dreadnought at Borders.com
Preorder Dreadnought at Powell’s.com

You can learn more about Dreadnought and even read the first chapter here at its Macmillan listing. And you can keep abreast of all Clockwork Century happenings over at its Facebook fan page. I mean, if you are so inclined.

Thank you so, so much for reading, everyone. Collectively, you helped make my thirty-fourth year a true stand-out – and I can’t adequately convey my undying appreciation in mere text. See? Attempts to do so come off as stilted and weird. Ah, well. What can I do but try?

:)
_______________________________________________
* True fact, though this wish has occasionally been augmented by such wishes as “a new bicycle” and “a flying robot pony-corn.”

I’m Doing Science

4 years ago, in the late afternoon

I realize it’s been a couple of days since I’ve posted, so this is just to say that I didn’t stop the planet and get off or anything. My mornings have been occupied by day-job work (as per usual), but yesterday afternoon I jaunted down to the Emerson Salon to get my hair done; and today I moseyed over to the Science Fiction Museum (its offices, rather) for an interview with a marvelous woman from a marvelous magazine.

(I’m not sure if I’m supposed to talk about it yet, though, so in deference to caution I’ll just be vague and conspiratorial.)

Anyway, each of these events took several hours including travel time to-and-from,* and the rest of my writer-work days have been occupied with the usual time-whittling business emails, phone calls, bill paying, and errand-running. So there are no new words to report on Ganymede, and no one is more rueful on this point than yours truly.

But the night is still young.

______________________________________________________________
* Yes, several hours for the hair. I think it’s worth it, once every five or six weeks, to have awesome peacock tresses. The day will eventually come that I change my mind, I’m sure; but for now I’m happy for an afternoon wherein I am not responsible for anything except holding still while the nice man paints up my ‘do.