Cherie Priest

Because people often ask me questions about my “writing process” and whatnot, well, here you go. You know those word metrics I’ve been posting for that new project? Forget them. I’ve just trashed those 2500 words. They weren’t going anywhere; they didn’t convey the right feel; they were just not what I wanted. So I’m starting over.

Contrary to the (kind of hilarious and sometimes downright insulting) backlash over on Twitter, this is not a big deal. There’s nothing tragic or lamentable about it. The words were crap, so I got rid of them. Words are not a finite resource, you know.

And crap words are a dime a dozen. I’m sure as hell not going to hoard them.

Not much to report on this uncommonly glamorous Wednesday evening*, except that lunch with Caitlin did occur earlier today, as well as a modicum of thrifting that resulted in a cute new summer skirt on the cheapy-cheap.

And oh yes, this: After chatting with the very kind folks at VCon, I have gratefully accepted their invitation to be author guest of honor at their convention in October! Vancouver’s VCon will be my second convention in British Columbia this year (thank heavens I got that passport squared away, eh?), and I am totally psyched about getting yet another chance to pal around with some of my neighbors to the north.

Amelie is hanging in there. She’s keeping down most of her feedings; she’s becoming a little more active; and yesterday’s bloodwork — though not improved — was not worse, so hey. We’ll take it. Thanks so much to everyone who helped out by throwing money in the tip jar. It added up, and it helped tremendously.

Links! Just a couple:

• Locus Awards ballot - Now with Boneshaker making an appearance, in addition to many, many other fine titles accompanied by ticky-boxes for your clicking pleasure. I honestly feel silly and frankly awkward about shilling for this kind of thing, but I’m told that it’s important to remind readers of their voting options. So here I am. Reminding, with a side mention of the fact that Hugo Award voting closes in another week or so. And Boneshaker is eligible for that one too.

• Kitty chaser - To wash down all that self-promotion, here’s a picture of Spain the Cat bogarting the fresh laundry and refusing to let me make the bed.
  

Have I been writing every day again, like I said I was gonna? No. I have all the usual excuses, of course. I was out of town. I’ve been sick. My computer crashed and died. I’ve been up to my eyeballs in deadlines and day-job work.

It’s all true, though it’s all insufficient to absolve me.

But now, as I crawl out from under a pile of distractions and stagger toward the light … I’m starting (just starting, mind you) to pull together the projects I want to work on this year (Christ, yes. It’s March already, I know.). I’ve got a couple stories independent of the Clockwork Century stuff that I want to get off the ground, and I’m not sure how well either of them will work but I’m determined to give them a go before the next wave of deadlines hits.

So. Here is the recent and pitiful progress on the new steam-horror fin de siecle project about ghosts, guilt, elder gods, and monster-hunting in the aftermath of two gruesome murders:

Project: (tentative title) What She Had Done
Deadline: None
New words written: 940
Present total word count: 2470 words



Things accomplished in fiction: Revised the intro rather extensively. Cut about a thousand words and rewrote them, came to a quasi-satisfactory level of quality and decided to move along. I can always come back and fiddle with this more later on.

Things accomplished in real life: Everything mentioned in the excuses paragraph above. But today more precisely: got up early and drove Ellen and Amelie to the vet; did day-job work; went to post office; fell asleep briefly on the couch; did light housework; ate some nachos.

Total Official Word Count of 2010: 23,056 words

A large chunk of my afternoon was spent over at Ellen’s place, swinging by to take care of her cat, Amelie. I mentioned the other day that a friend’s feline was having some health problems; well, here’s the story on that — the poor kitty has developed feline hepadic lipidosis, and her liver is failing. At least, it was failing. Ellen seems to have caught the problem fairly fast, and there’s a healthy (no guarantees, but better than 50/50) chance that Amelie will be okay after a few weeks of medication and 4-times-daily feeding through an esophageal tube.

We still don’t know what caused the liver failure and things are still uncertain. But Amelie survived the surgery to insert the tube and she’s been taking her feedings pretty well, even when they come from yours truly. For although Ellen takes the morning, afternoon, and evening dining duties … the lunchtime event has to fall to someone else while she’s at work. Starting tomorrow, Ellen’s parents are going to take over; but today it was my turn.

The process is fairly simple. You unwrap the tube in her neck (which is affixed via a sturdy, sterile collar) and pinch it to keep the air out between deliveries. First, she gets water to flush the line, then she gets a runny mixture of cat food and water about the consistency of baby food, and finally she gets another dose of water to rinse everything down. But all must be delivered very slowly. Her full lunch took over an hour.

The feeding actually went pretty well. She even got bored with me at one point and decided to go walk-about … with me trailing behind her and holding the huge syringe aloft while trying to keep her from tripping over the feeding tube, simultaneously begging her to sit down, please, anywhere, I didn’t care where, just … no … don’t walk away while I’m trying to stuff you with nutrients, what the heck is wrong with you, you crazy cat, I thought you were supposed to be a freakin’ invalid or something auuuuuugggggghhhh okay FINE I’ll put you up on the bed if that’s what you really want, I mean, will you sit still there? Please? Okay. GOOD.

Things this cute and pitiful invariably get their way, and when I left she was resting at the foot of Ellen’s bed on a heating pad, snoring softly until I scritched her ears one last time before going — at which point she gave me the ol’ stink-eye and buried her nose back in the blanket.

Hang in there, sweet wee girlie. We’re pulling for ya.

* * *

I’ve been chronicling my adventures in amateur veterinary services over on Twitter today, where some questions have been accumulating. In order to answer them here, and in quick succession: Amelie is a Washington Long-Haired Random Cat, which is to say she came from animal control a few years ago and claims no formal breed; there is no guarantee that this medical intervention will work, but it was either this or make the decision to put her down, and Ellen couldn’t do that while there was still a shot at giving Amelie a good life on the other side of all this treatment; Amelie is only 6-7 years old; her “big brother,” Java, is confused and upset by the whole thing and he’s being kept away from her for now, in order to give her time to recover without his … shall we say … aggressive snuggling.

And as one last point, to those who asked about how much this was going to cost, the answer is that the final tally isn’t in yet. There will still be at least 3 follow-up appointments (one tomorrow morning), but we’re talking a couple thousand dollars.

If you’d like to throw a few bucks in the Amelie’s Medical Fund Jar, those bucks would most definitely be appreciated. Ellen’s never asked for anything like this before and wouldn’t do it herself, but I have no shame and also I really like Ellen, and I know that times have been tough going for her this last year or so. Furthermore, since it’s on behalf of Amelie, with minimal badgering I conned Ellen into letting me post a tip jar.

The paypal button below goes to Ellen’s account, but if for some reason there’s a problem and you’d like to send something directly to her email, you can do so through this address: graphxgrrl@gmail.com

Obviously if you find this distasteful/don’t know me or trust me/think that cats aren’t worth this kind of money/whatever … then that’s okay. Scroll on by. I don’t take it personally, and I totally understand. The internet is full of open palms and paws, and this is just one more. Except it isn’t just one more to me. This is a friend of mine, and a cat I love — whose wee little tummy I, personally, have filled with gooshy food via a very slow tube.

But I promise not to harp on it, and this will be the last I post of it except for the occasional Status of the Cat update as information becomes pertinent and/or available. So thanks for reading, everyone. And if you’ve got any spare prayers, good vibes, or friendly thoughts for a small, sick cat in Seattle, then Amelie and Ellen would be happy to have those too.

Things are more or less back to normal over here, in the wake of the weekend’s laptop ‘asplodey. I’m back up to about 98% back-in-business now - largely thanks to my wonderful husband, who did all the repair/restoration work while I hovered behind him, fretting and flapping my hands.

In the end, the carnage wasn’t that bad and everything is pretty much okay.

* * * *

Tonight I’m trying to write a book report on my own freaking book, as requested by the Nebula folks. I’m not really complaining; I mean, if I’m going to have to wax philosophic on Boneshaker, this is certainly the best of all possible reasons. But I’m running out of time to complete the assignment, so I’m going to log off and work while the evening is still young.

But first let me leave you with a couple of quick links:

• Joseph Mallozzi sics his readers on me - All in the name of fun and information! Click the link and be enlightened on such topics as who I’d cast in a Boneshaker movie (in that wacky fantasy universe where authors have control over this stuff), and whether or not there’s any such thing in the works. Many, many thanks to the marvelous Mr. Mallozzi and all his readers for picking up my novel and for having me over to chat.

• Geek Dad’s best-of poll - Boneshaker is up for best novel over at Wired’s Geek Dad page. My book has some stiff competition but heck, if anyone feels like clicking through there and voting (in this category, or in any of the others) then have yourself a ball.
  

Last night while following up on an illegal torrent for Boneshaker,* I clicked what looked like a legitimate link in gmail and ended up completely killing my laptop. The link was a switch; malware invaded; and in the end, the only thing we could do was a complete reinstall of the whole damn system.

I lost … well … some stuff. Images, links, downloads. About four years of them - also a little music, but not very much, as it turns out. And because I am a neurotic backing-up fiend, I didn’t lose any of my works-in-progress, which is a relief. Even so, I lost some older material I’d been sitting on — stuff I was thinking about revisiting, maybe. Stuff I wasn’t sure if I wanted to pursue or not.

Well. Okay then. Clean slate. I probably won’t know the extent of what’s lost for weeks, as little things I want-but-only-sometimes-access are no longer right within reach. Which sucks.

I’m not looking for suggestions. The wipe has occurred; the damage is done; and I’m trying to put everything back in order. Very little that was lost cannot be replaced. I’d meant to do a great cleansing/purge when I finally had the money to pick up a new laptop anyway. I just didn’t want to do one … like this.

Edited to add: We’re about 90-95% back in business over here. Back up early, back up often, people. The restoration went faster than anticipated (only took a few hours). It could’ve been much, much worse.

It’s been a busy couple of days, in good and bad ways. I’ve done a lot of that catching up to which I keep referring, and I started a new day-job project; but much of this morning went to helping a friend with a cat emergency, the nature of which I won’t go into at this time. Suffice it to say, I hope the four-footed girlie in question recovers fully, and goes on to live out her days in the splendor and comfort to which she’s become accustomed. And if you have any spare prayers, fond wishes, or good vibes to send to a beloved longhaired tortie/calico in Seattle, I’m sure they’d be appreciated.

* * *

Today begins the Potlatch conference over in the University District, and I’ll be reading there this evening at 8:30. I’d provide more details, except I don’t have them. I expect to figure it out when I arrive. But if you’re attending Potlatch and you’re interested in swinging by to hear me read, I’d love to see you. (And as always, I’m also happy to answer questions and sign books.)

Following that event, I think me and the hubs might sneak across the street to see Alice in Wonderland. It’ll probably be terrible and give me nightmares about hydrocephlatic toddler-queens with homicidal impulses, but what the hell. I’m game.

* * *

And now, for a couple of links:

• My sister’s having trouble with Facebook - Does anyone recognize this issue, or have any advice for her? Please post over on her blog if you can be helpful, and thanks for checking it out.

• Library Journal names the 20 core books of steampunk - And Boneshaker is one of them! Many thanks to Library Journal in general and John Klima in particular!

Got back into town last night, after spending the afternoon hanging in the Clallam County’s historical archives with half a dozen library ladies in an out-building behind a haunted old school. Which was yes, exactly as awesome as it sounds. Kat scooped lots of research for her next book, and I mostly hung around and listened to the charming archivists tell the best stories they knew about the weirdest shit that had gone down in their jurisdiction over the last hundred and thirty years.

Following this captivating set of hours, Kat and I joined her mother for supper — then we headed back to the ferry, and retreated to our respective homes.

If it seems that Day #2 of our trip featured a lot less updating and intrigue from yours truly, then your observation is pretty much correct. The relative radio silence was due to the fact that sometime Monday afternoon, a huge forest-full of exciting new allergens attacked my face. Indeed, if you play through some of the spooooky little videos we were taking … you can hear my voice changing over the day as the tree pollen and leaf mold began to overtake me. By evening, I was literally unable to stop sneezing. I was developing a migraine. I couldn’t breathe at all. I did not sleep the following night. Just ask poor Kat, who was trying to nab some rest in the next bed over. I mean, you’d think that three doses of Claritin and six Benedryls might’ve put a dent in it, wouldn’t you? But no.

Next day I invested in (God help me) some Afrin “Sinus Congestion” — the veritable hand grenade of decongestants. It’s terrible stuff; using it feels rather like setting off menthol pipe bombs behind your eyes. But I do declare, when nothing else will penetrate the goop, that shit gets the job done.

Anyway. With the exception of my personal frailties, the trip was oodles of fun. We learned lots of neat things, received many awesome local history leads to chase, and ate at some great little joints (including one mom-and-pop with the best damn waffles I’ve ever had … topped with sauteed apples and candied walnuts). Many thanks once again to Kat for having me along for the ride, and thanks to the ladies of the Clallam Historic Society for the patience, the photos, and the stories.

* * *

I’ve spent my Wednesday playing catch-up, as you might guess. It’s amazing what two business days out-of-town do to my inbox; and I had some day-job work that I was determined to wrap up today. So I took care of all that, and now it’s suppertime. After suppertime, I predict wine and network television, accompanied by further goofing off, just for a little while.

Have a good night, everyone.
I intend to have a lazy one.

The murder which brings us here (more or less).

To see the rest of our silly videos click here.
To see the tweets and/or click through to a whole bunch of pictures, click here.

More to come!

This evening things are going to get weird. And by weird, I mean “totally awesome.”

To make a long story vague and somewhat brief, the other day I was lunching with Kat — who was telling me all about a research roadtrip she was planning. Some of the highlights of this investigatory jaunt include a saponified corpse in a lake, a haunted lodge, and an appointment with a special collections local history librarian; so if you’ve ever met me, you can assume that I was all googly eyed and jealous of her impending journey.

And I might’ve said, off the cuff, that if she wanted any company … all she had to do was ask. After all, I’ve been noodling with a young adult project which is mostly set in the very place she intends to investigate, and I’ve never … actually … you know. Been there.

Which leads us to tonight — whereupon Kat is picking me up and AWAY WE WILL GO.

The original plan was for a simple overnight, but we’re headed far enough away that a second night has proven necessary if we’re going to get one whole day’s worth of daylight (such as it is) from this out-of-town adventure. Ergo, we’ll be gone Sunday and Monday evening, and return late on Tuesday. I’m not sure how much internet connectivity there will be, but I’ll at least have email capability on my phone — and you can bet I’ll be tweeting pictures and pithy travel commentary over here at my Twitter feed.

[Edited to add: I might also do the occasional voice post over on my Livejournal. I don’t have the capability to post in such a fashion at my true and proper homepage, alas. But you might want to swing by that other location, if you’re curious about our progress. You might find Bonus! content.]

But for now, I have to get up and around and get productive. I’m trying to get ahead (which is to say, reach the end — or come very close to it) on a day-job project in order to make up for Monday and Tuesday’s travel; and there is still packing and planning and supplies-grabbing to be handled.

Also, I must work on convincing myself that “two women writers traveling alone to a distant, rural location in order to research a gruesome, decades-old murder at a haunted lodge” does not totally sound like the set-up to a horror movie …

Yeah, so. I blew that “I’m gonna write everyday!” resolution, which is no one’s fault but mine. I was out of town; I was sick; I was busy with other things. It happens. But like a born-again virgin, I’m going to do my best to stick with the program and remain virtuous going forward.

With an eye toward this goal, for the last few days I’ve been trying to get started on a new book project* — and today I finally triumphed over the blank page.

I’d like to say that tackling a blank page never gets easier, but the truth is, eventually it does. Once upon a time I’d wrestle with a story idea for a week or two (or longer) before committing a few precious paragraphs; these days, I can gun myself up and take a serious stab within about seventy-two hours. Granted, I might end up throwing out everything I write, but it’s worth it to get a new thing underway.

The process (for me personally; and your mileage may vary) is hard to describe, but it shapes up kind of like a tornado. At first it’s a funnel cloud — wide and nebulous and swirling. It has a definite structure and look; I mean, you know what it’s about.** But it’s basically just a twisting mess of ideas that aren’t ready to go down on paper. However, given some time and the right meteorological brainstorm conditions, it begins to concentrate, and stretch, and extend like a long pokey finger — reaching toward the ground, or the page … and eventually, it hones itself down to a starting point. That pin-point where the storm meets the topsoil, that’s where the story starts. That’s the first sentence.

From there on out, the process looks like writing with one of those top-heavy whirly-gig pens that were so popular back in the 1980s. Remember those things? They made your text or drawings look like they were composed in squiggly spirals. I guess that was the point, but I tried to hand in some spiral-written homework once and I got a Stern Talking To for my efforts. Alas.

Anyway. Yes. Moving along.

The Project is underway, and I’m both nervous and excited about it. This new fiction attempt is not related to Boneshaker in any way***, though it’s also set in the 19th century … and it’ll also have a heavy steampunk element. But I want to get back closer to my horror roots, and I think I’ve found just the story to suit my nefarious purposes.

At the moment, I’m not sure how much I want to talk about it in public. I’m still getting a handle on the tale, and since this isn’t a project for an existing contract (though I certainly hope to sell it at some point!), I’m feeling insecure enough to be a tad vague. But here we go, once more reviving the word meters and all their attendant metrics.

Here’s today’s progress on the new steam-horror fin de siecle project about ghosts, guilt, elder gods, and monster-hunting in the aftermath of two gruesome murders:

Project: (tentative title) What She Had Done
Deadline: None
New words written: 1530
Present total word count: 1530 words



Things accomplished in fiction: Ladies, lads, and gentlepersons, we have a beginning. It’s a stubby one, but it introduces three of the four major players (thus far) and includes mesmerism, ghosts, and the promise of monsters.

Things accomplished in real life: Virtually nothing else. Consumed a couple cans of Coke Zero; snacked entirely too much; fretted with reference volumes to no avail; composed a soundtrack to accompany my composition process; did not even do all the dishes.

Total Official Word Count of 2010: 22,116 words

Today I spent all afternoon working on a proposal for a new project. It clocked in around four pages (a couple thousand words) and I’m actually very happy with it. Now to set it aside and let it cool off for a few days, then read it again and see if the happy feeling still stands. This may sound like a small thing, but I’ve been wrestling with it for a couple of weeks and seeing it in one piece is a huge relief.

Also (and in completely unrelated news), I added a new event to my appearances page. That’s right, folks — on April 15th I’ll be at the Garfield Book Company in Tacoma. Things kick off around 7:00 p.m., and I hope I’ll see some of you there!

• Cat Rambo teaches speculative fiction workshop - Over on Bainbridge Island, here in the Seattle-area. I’ve had the pleasure of hanging with Cat a few times, and let me tell you - she is both brilliant and awesome. I quite strongly suspect that she is an excellent teacher, and I’m not just saying that because I love her hair. Registration for the class closes on March 6th.

• Clementine ARC up for auction - On the Con or Bust community at LiveJournal. (Con_or_Bust is a group dedicated to assisting fans of color who want to attend SFF conventions, principally WisCon.) Clementine is a novella sequel to Boneshaker which will not be available in print (through Subterranean Press) until the end of May. Click the link for details.

• Steampunk II: Steampunk Reloaded TOC formally announced - And it includes my novellette “Tanglefoot” which — speaking of Subterranean — was published online through that same company. Coincidentally enough, “Tanglefoot” is a vignette of backstory that is, in its way, quite relevant to the events that transpire in Clementine. But I say all that to say this: Hot damn that’s a good-looking book, and I’m delighted to be in such outstanding company.
  

Just checking in to do a drive-by how-do-you-do. I seem to be (mostly) recovered from the Tennessee Hamthrax Plague, though the quasi-spring that’s settled over Seattle has the trees blooming and my allergies on freakin’ fire. So, out of the frying pan, etc. I’ll survive. I always do, one way or another.

Tonight’s survival method of choice involves cheap wine, Benedryl, and whatever’s left in that bottle of Nyquil I almost killed earlier this week.

But anyway. Went to the CPA today and sort of got our taxes done. We ended up short a few pieces of paper, but I’m led to believe that the husband will straighten this out sooner rather than later … which will be nice, because I’d really like to get this (plus the quarterly tax payment, also due before long) squared away so I can forget about it.

And I’m not sure what else to add to this post. I’ve been hideously unproductive from a creative standpoint lately, opting instead to get out of the house since the weather has been (relatively) nice — running errands with Caitlin and catching lunch with Kat after the usual day-job toil.

But I swear I’m going to fix that. I’ll be back on the writing and revision pony before long, you just watch me. As soon as these decongestants and antihistamines kick in.

Yarrrrrgh…

So my friend Mark Henry has a new book out. Landing today, available at bookstores everywhere, Battle of the Network Zombies is fresh and spanky for your reading pleasure!

Here, from the flap copy:

In Seattle’s undead circles, Amanda Feral is one of the beautiful zombies. Of course, when you’re socializing with werewolves, devils, and rampaging yetis, there’s not that much competition. Still, Amanda has a stylish rep to maintain, which is getting tricky now that her tanking ad agency is obliterating her finances. The fastest way to make some cash: appear on a new reality show, American Minions, hosted by lecherous wood nymph Johnny Birch. Classy? Maybe not, but a girl’s gotta eat.”

With zombie gal pal Wendy posing as her bitchy agent, Amanda settles in to “Minions Mansion,” crowded with 24-7 video cameras and undead fame whores. When Johnny is found incinerated in a locked room, Amanda decides to channel her inner Miss Marple (minus the fugly cardigans) and find out who’s responsible. Was it Hairy Sue, the white trash stripper yeti? Tanesha, the glamorous trannie werewolf? Angie, the Filipino vampire with a detachable head? Unveiling the culprit in a heart-stopping finale won’t just save the show from cancellation, it might just keep Amanda alive — or as close as a ghoul can get…

If you haven’t yet picked up any of Mark’s stuff, then please allow me to HIGHLY RECOMMEND it. He’s filthy and funny — definitely for adults, if you know what I’m sayin’ — but if you ARE an adult and you’re in the market to laugh your frickin’ ass off, this is a damn fine place to start.

Don’t forget — just like you can order my books signed and personalized from the University Book Store, likewise you can order Mark’s in the same fashion. You can also get it from amazon.com, Powell’s, Barnes & Noble, and just about anywhere else. So go on. GET CRACKIN’.

• Beautiful kitty in Fredericksburg, VA needs a home - Click the link to get a gander at one gorgeous cat. She showed up on my friend Andrea’s porch during the snowstorm; but Andrea’s place is all full-up on rescued animals right now. (Trust me, I know this woman in real life. I even foisted one of her rescues upon her.) Andrea is willing to drive up to 4 hours to place the girl in a new home — and she’s also willing to pay for her first round of vaccinations and vet visiting. Click the link for details.

• Speaking of cats, mine is NOT missing an ear - Contrary to popular belief, and/or this somewhat hilarious photo of her.

• Happy Hour of the Damned on Kindle for $2.79 - So seriously, there has never been a better time to pick it up and read it. It’s funny, filthy, and just a ridiculous amount of fun. And I’m not just saying that because Mark is super-awesome personally. (Though he is!)
  

I just wanted to make a quick post saying thank you to the folks who came out to the Barnes & Noble at Northgate this afternoon. You guys were a marvelous audience, and I greatly appreciate your patience and warmth. (My voice was pretty much shot until the Mucinex kicked in, about halfway through the event; and I was kind of loaded up on cold medicine … so I was even more rambly and loopy than usual.)

Many thanks also to Caitlin, Kat, Ellen, and Suezie, who came out just because they’re my friends and they are awesomely supportive.

Excessive and copious thanks likewise to the B&N staff, who threw such a marvelous mid-afternoon cookie party, with particular kudos to the exuberant Covahgin and spiffy-dressing John-who-turns-out-not-to-be imaginary. (Covahgin is the super-groovy woman who invited me in the first place — and John is the mystery man who keeps recommending Boneshaker all over the place, but who neeeeever seemed to be working when I stopped by to tell him thanks for all the book-love.)

Anyway, thanks again! This was my first B&N event ever, and it was a very, very pleasant one.

First of all, thank you so much to everyone who’s chimed in with cheers and congrats today. I’m trying to respond to everyone personally, but right now my inbox is a digital Hydra: For every email I delete, two more appear. And alas, I’ve been trying to squeeze some work in too — so I’ve got a bit of a backlog, and I don’t have time to address it right this moment as I still have lots to do before I call this week a wrap. For that matter, I will probably still have work to do tomorrow, but it’ll have to fit itself around the second point of this post.

Point the second: Tomorrow I’ll be appearing at the Northgate Barnes & Noble here in Seattle. Or rather, a little outside Seattle … but if you’re local enough to attend, you probably know what I’m talking about. I am led to understand that this will be a reading with some Q&A thrown in, also with Bonus! cookies and refreshments. The party gets underway at 2:00, so just think of it as an after-lunch speculative fiction dessert opportunity. Further details available here.

Please come out and see me — and feel free to dress up! You’re not required to appear in full-on steampunk regalia, but you ought to anyway. Because it’ll be awesome.

Now that all’s official, and officially announced … I can finally share it here: Boneshaker has been nominated for a Nebula Award. I am flabbergasted that this has actually happened. I have no idea what to say in response except thank you to the members of the SFWA, who have given this weird, interstitial, difficult-to-talk-about book a chance.

I am absolutely honored and amazed. It is a privilege to appear on this list, and I feel both nervously humbled and giddily thrilled to be there. Beyond that, I’m speechless.

* * *

I realize that this website is devolving back into the Boneshaker Channel again, and for that I do apologize. Recently (and by recently I mean the last 4-5 months) this novel has taken over my life, which is good for me as a writer, and probably bad for me as a blogger.

But Boneshaker has been a book of milestones, this is where I chronicle milestones. This is my first book to reach any national bestseller list. It’s the first to sell any foreign rights. It’s the first to win a well-known, established award*, and the first to be nominated for one of the big genre awards. In short, Boneshaker, my seventh published novel, is my first quantifiable hit.

From a professional standpoint, this book — and now this Nebula award nomination — is absolutely the most major and exciting thing that has ever happened to me. I’ve been telling stories all my life; and from my first inkling that it was hypothetically possible to build a career out of stories, all I ever wanted to do was be an author. Literally. You can ask my parents and everything. I have been utterly insufferable about it for decades. I am unlikely to stop anytime soon.

I keep wandering around muttering that Hemingway line about “Gradually, then suddenly.”

Spent much of the afternoon over at the University Book Store, where I signed some orders, visited with Duane a bit — and mostly hung out in a conference room with Cat Rambo, Mark Teppo, and Matt Simmons. The three of us were there to participate in a conversation about modern fantasy fiction, led by by Victoria Blake from Underland Press (for the purposes of a later podcast).

It was quite a lot of fun! And the grand company aside, this was the first time in ages anyone had asked me about anything other than steampunk. Don’t get me wrong, I love me some steampunk — and it did, in fact come up once or twice; but this wasn’t an hour of me trying to think of new things to say on the subject. I feel like I’ve had a lot of those hours lately.

* * *

In other news I’m still a bit sick, working my way through the Tennessee Hamthrax Aric gave me last week; so if posting is a bit light or perfunctory (which is to say, a string of announcements or links) for a few more days, I hope you’ll forgive me.

I’m in the middle of a whole lot of reading (for day-job work, books for friends which I need to/want to blurb, etc.), and I’m still struggling to find the time to get writer-job work done too — but I’m not doing so hot with the latter part. The last week has contained several short story contracts and accompanying paperwork, a couple of interviews, lots of emails, the PNBA event at Third Place, today’s round-table at University Book Store, and a trip to San Francisco … [:: deep breath ::] … but I haven’t gotten any writing done at all, nor have I managed to pull any proposals together for future projects.

It’s the proposal thing that’s actually griping my soul right now. I’m already partially done with one, and it shouldn’t take me but an afternoon to finish it up … but dammitall, I just haven’t had that afternoon free to tackle it. Mostly, I’ve been sleeping in late as I try to shake this bug, then using my afternoons for day-job work and crashing into a cold-medicine coma in the evening. It’s not the world’s most productive schedule, I know.

Anyway. I’m taking enough Vitamin C to buckle my kidneys, as well as doing the usual fluids-drinking and neti-pot-using, so I’m bound to get over this one of these days. Hopefully it’ll clear up before Saturday, when I have yet another event … this one at the B&N at Northgate.

I hear there will be cookies! And sick people aren’t allowed to have cookies.

As of this morning, it’s official: French rights on Boneshaker have officially gone to Bibliothèque Interdite, via my marvelous agent Jennifer Jackson! I’d attempt a bit of clever commentary in French but (a). it’s been years since those college semesters on the subject, and (b). I was never any good at it anyway.

Instead, I shall speak the universal language of Snoopydance.
[:: snoopydances ::]

Hey look! [:: points at header ::] I got the month right this time. (Don’t bother scrolling around; I already fixed yesterday’s post.)

So it’s been another day of catching-up over here. Received a short-story contract; exchanged a morning’s worth of important emails (but not until after lunch, alas); got some great news that I don’t think I’m allowed to squeal about yet; got some potential great news that may or may not pan out; popped enough cold medicine to stone a horse; and actually got outside while the sun was out — for a little bit of fresh air and exercise. All this, and I kept my head above water with regards to my present day-job project too. Go me!

Now (or rather “when I log off”) I’m going to sit down with one of my next proposals and do some fiddling, since I have a couple of hours to kill before heading over to Third Place Books for that PNBA-award thingy this evening. Details on that are over here, by the way (scroll down). To be clear, this is NOT a private event. It’s open to the public, with refreshments and mingling — and the more public shows up, the merrier.

But first, I must give you links. No no, you’ll like them! I bet.

• Because she’s worth it! Click over to the Qwillery for a Save Amanda Feral promo event. ZOMBIE DUCKS, y’all. But not for me. I already have some zombie ducks. These are for YOU.
• Clementine cover art. Over the weekend a preliminary cover was making the rounds, but I’m choosing not to link it here — as it won’t be the final. Instead, to whet your collective appetites for awesome, I link you to the full wrap-around cover art, created by Myke Amend.
• We’re #2! We’re #2! Over on the Locus magazine trade paperback bestseller list, that is. I’m constantly delighted and amazed at the legs this weird little novel seems to have, and I’m incredibly grateful for the support from readers and booksellers that have kept the momentum running.
  

I have returned! Safe and sound, and still glowing from the Writers with Drinks event — which went smashingly. Everyone was enthusiastic and very cool, Charlie Jane Anders was a superlatively awesome M.C., and some of my bay-area friends came out to keep me company.

Speaking of whom — many, many, many thanks to Greg and Miriam, Meg, and Dan for taking the time to join me. I’ve only been to San Francisco a couple of times before and I don’t know the city at all; so it was a great relief to have friends to kindly shepherd me around.

But now I’m home, and the show goes on.

Mostly, today’s show involved unpacking, catching up on email and work, and consuming lots of fluids/vitamin C (I’ve been a little under the weather). Tomorrow, however, shenanigans will resume out in the wild — at least, out in Lake Forest Park at Third Place Books, where me and some of the other PNBA-award folks will be gathering for refreshments, signings, goofing-offs, and heaven knows what else. Come out and join us! There’s a food court and everything. Click here for the calendar announcement and details.

Right! Yes. Well. Sorry to be brief over here, but supper looms and I still have some more work to knock out before the hubs and I settle in for the evening.* Thanks again to everyone at the Make-Out Room for having me over the weekend, and to Third Place Books for hosting things tomorrow night.

Tonight I went out with some friends and saw WOLFMAN, which wasn’t even half as bad as I’d heard. Is it great cinema? No. But it’s a very good B-movie with a very big budget and a very good cast. In its own weird way, it’s downright sublime — unapologetically gothic and grim, and corny where necessary. I don’t care what anyone says. I enjoyed the heck out of it.

But! Now I’m home, and I’m packing up for tomorrow’s grand adventure in San Francisco. That’s right - tomorrow evening at the Make-Out Room, I’ll be participating in Writers With Drinks — along with James Rollins, Vikram Chandra, Andrew Porter, and Derek Powazek. Things get underway around 7:30, but I understand that space is limited and showing up early is highly recommended.

I won’t have my laptop with me, so you can consider me more or less offline until Sunday night; but I’ll have my phone, which means tweeting will likely occur. I’ll also be checking email (via that same phone), but unless it’s urgent, don’t expect me to reply. That keyboard is tiny, yo. (Though of course, if you have my number and you need me for SRS BZNSS — you can always just call.)

I hope to see some of you in San Francisco! And I’ll catch up with the rest of the world when I get back.

This coming Saturday evening, I’ll be in San Francisco participating in Writers with Drinks. What’s that, you ask? Well, I’ll tell you: Writers with Drinks is a spoken-word variety show combining erotica with literature, stand-up comedy with science fiction, and poetry with essays. Plus mystery, romance, memoir, rants and … um … “other.”

No, seriously.
And I, for one, CANNOT WAIT.

You can read an article about this event over here at the SF Gate, or you can click the jump below and to see the press release — which will tell you all about what’s shaking, what’s going down, what’s happening, and who’s in it with me.

So if you’re in the area, mark your calendars and come on out! It’s bound to be a hoot.
(I promise I’ll read something with zombies in it.)

(more…)