Since Monday morning I’ve done two interviews, one video chat, a dentist appointment, two trips to the post office with contracts/paperwork/important whatnots, a jaunt to the grocery store, a metric assload of laundry, two trips to the bank, one much-delayed hair appointment, and one ridiculous martini night with friends – so it’s not 100% work/no play/Nicholson-with-an-axe time over here.

I promise.

I’m even watching a bit of TV. Might blather about it later on this week. Consider yourselves warned.

Ziggy the Space Goblin, Betta of the Damned, came to us about six months ago with strange coloration and gimpy pectoral fins he couldn’t straighten; he always looked like he was swimming around with his hands jammed into the pockets on a hoodie. I mean, if he had hands. Or wore hoodies. It’s hard to describe. But he had a sweet face and a cheerful disposition, and he was always happy to see me – assuming I brought food and not a tank cleaning. (Every tank cleaning was cause for a Tiny Aquatic Drama Queen snit, I swear.)

He was my gimpy little fish, and I liked him a lot. I hate to see him go.

Anyway. I think that’s going to be the last of my aquarium-keeping for awhile. Ziggy was piscine #4, and it feels a bit like a downward spiral. The first betta, Howard, lived about three years … but the subsequent two (Merrimack [aka "Ginny"] and Tesla Rex) lived barely a year apiece. They’re such lovely animals – so pretty, so personable; but when they begin to go downhill, it’s hard to watch. There’s virtually nothing you can do for them.

So … yeah.

I’ve already talked to my friend Nova, who will take over the tank and all its accouterments before terribly long – because she wants to give betta fish a go, and I don’t want to throw out all this perfectly good fish stuff.* But for me, for now, it ends here.

May Ziggy’s digs one day become a happy home for some other small swimmer.

Seriously, I’m relieved. I get a lot of hate mail from people who want to beat me with a stick for pricing the Clementine hardback at such ridiculous levels … which is a hoot, because I’ve done no such thing. My publisher did no such thing. The book sold out, that’s all – and collectors be collectin’. There’s jack squat I can do about it …

… except badger my publisher for a cheaper, more plentiful paperback edition, yay!

So here’s the deal – you can wait for the Subterranean launch and order from their website at that time, or you can essentially preorder over on Amazon.com via this link right here. And then be just a tad bit patient.

That, my friends, is all there is to it!

So now that’s done, and I have a moment to breathe. Not a day, not an hour. But a moment, and I’ll take it – thank you very much. Shorter projects have been queuing up while I wasn’t looking, and a handful of smaller deadlines are looming in the next few months; but this is wholly manageable, and not nearly as much pressure as fixing something I broke last year.

I feel like now my New Year can begin … now that I’ve gotten the last of the overdue 2011 business off my plate. I’m not playing catch-up anymore. Now I only have to keep my head above water. More or less.

And now I will roundup some recent immodest links. As you do.

• George R. R. Martin’s Hugo recs – Because I have exactly zero shame, that’s why. Also, he’s brilliant – and you should listen to him. On all matters. Except possibly football. [:: ducks the inevitable GRRM-thrown shoe ::]

• The Steampunk Scholar is here for your audio book needs – All of them. Forever. Seriously, it’s one hell of a list – and my books make the cut, so *whew* for that…

• Speaking of steampunk: This is “Steampunk Girl” – A fun song about a steampunk girl named Cherie who goes to school and writes a book. For the record, it’s not about me … but John is a friend, and we’d chatted about this ages ago. I’m just tickled that he finally put it out there.

• Best Steampunk Stories reviews Boneshaker – I love it when people recommend this book as an intro to steampunk, mostly because so many people still insist that it isn’t steampunk – what with it being set in America and all.

• Tales to Tide You Over reviews it too – And I also love it when people talk about there being a “twist” at the end. I had no idea there was a twist at the end when I wrote it.

• Chicks With Crossbows reviews Hellbent – CWC says I’m “urbane, sharp and downright brilliant,” oh wait. No. They’re talking about the protagonist. *sigh*

• The incomparable Jess Nevins urges a steampunk rethink – A great piece by a dear friend who – full disclosure for the lazy clickers – quotes me a bit. But don’t read the comments. Here there be nerdfights and woe. And possibly monsters.
  

I started by removing about 14,000 words (yes that’s a lot shut up they were bad words moving right along), then I took my editor’s notes to heart and filled in the holes/rearranged various assorted bits. The present incarnation of this thing is about 108,000 words, with another couple thousand to go. One more scene.

It’s a pretty significant scene, and I’m not sure if I can or should start it tonight, as it’s getting late and I’m sort of feeling the burn-out right now. But then again, the sooner I kill it, the sooner I can start back at the beginning – making sure that this whole thing hangs together and doesn’t suck. (This will take me several days.)

I don’t know. I’ll make myself some supper and see how I feel about it tonight.

Anyway, now that there is a Dubstep Cat, I’m not sure reality even matters anymore.

But something has come up, and as of this evening, I’ve reluctantly withdrawn from this event.

I feel particularly bad because my timing is terrible, since the promo push for that weekend is getting underway – but the organizers are being very understanding. The reasons for my change in plans are personal and I won’t go into them here or now; suffice it to say that May of 2012 is shaping up to be very complicated, and I needed to prune the out-of-state travel.

I’m okay, and everything’s all right. This is just a case of Regular Life throwing a monkey-wrench into my Travel/Fandom Life, that’s all. And to be clear, this weekend is not “freed up,” and I am not considering other events.

I am very sorry about this, and I apologize to any fans who were planning to catch me there – as well as the organizers and staff. Best of luck to everyone involved, and may the Expo live long and prosper. Perhaps I can make it in 2013.

The husband had it special ordered/customized (yes it’s a real bulletproof vest) for Christmas, but it was delayed a bit and it finally arrived and you had better bet your sweet patootie that I will wear the ever-living CRAP out of this thing.

Not just to sci-fi conventions OH HELLS NO. I will bust out this bad-boy for DOCTORS APPOINTMENTS and HOUSEWORK. For that matter ARE ANY OF MY FRIENDS GETTING MARRIED SOON?

Oh my God, PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT’S HOLY, SOMEONE CALL ME UP FOR JURY DUTY.

Not that I’ve been going very far, very much. Not lately. I’m still eyeballs deep in Inexplicables revisions, and that means I’m mostly staying inside – even when going outside is an appealing option.

But today the husband and I got out long enough to grab lunch, get (him) a haircut, and make a Target run for household essentials. Mundane, yes. But I did get out of the house.

Here goes.

Most of my televised interests are none too high-brow; I ain’t gonna lie to you. Tonight, for example, I will sit around with a glass of wine (for I am out of rum) and watch America’s Funniest Videos. Sometimes you just have to shut off your brain and let it reboot.

Then I’ll stick around for Once Upon A Time which is, to be perfectly frank, also not very good – but it hops up and down on my deep-seated love of the froofy and gothic. It’s a little soapy, and a lot ridiculous … but I sure do love the wicked queen’s fashion sense.

And I love Rumpelstiltskin too, but only when he’s in slick, modern, evil “Mr. Gold” guise. (I like my evil in a suit, I do.) Actually, you know what? That’s not fair. I’ll file him as Chaotic Neutral for now. The question of Mr. Gold’s motives – and how much he knows about what’s going on – is mostly what keeps me tuned in.

However, I am increasingly less tuned in to the other big fairy tale launch this season – Grimm. The core problem is that all the secondary characters are a lot more interesting than the eponymous protagonist; even when they’re one-shots or hasty caricatures they’ve got more life than Grimm himself, bless his heart. Jesus, that guy. So goddamn earnest, and not even clever. Lawful Good has never looked so aggressive, yet bland.

Mind you, if this show were about Monroe, I’d have myself a new fandom. What’s not to love about a redneck zen werewolf with a clock collection? He’s darling, and the actor plays him with pitch perfection – as a fellow balancing at least three very different, mutually exclusive sets of impulses. Too bad Grimm is such a douche-canoe to him all the time, treating him like an Igor, or a second-rate Watson … because Monroe is infinitely more competent than Grimm.

Has Grimm ever torn off a dude’s arm and used it to defend himself? No, I would wager he has not. Point: Monroe.

Anyway, speaking of Watson and whatnot, yes, I’ve kept up with Sherlock. I had my reservations at first, but now I really do love it. Not in the same way I love anything mentioned above, of course; I don’t want to watch Sherlock unless I’m really ready to pay attention, and it is a pleasure to pay attention to, start to finish. Even the somewhat weaker episodes are better than the vast majority of recent interpretations.

[As my husband said (upon leaving the theater after Game of Shadows) - Hollywood spends fifty skillion dollars to make one of these questionable, tarty Holmes flicks every few years ... and the BBC casually craps out gold three times a season. Hell to the yes.]

And yes, I have some thoughts about The Final Problem. I think I noticed many of the right things, but I’m not sure how to put these observations together to form a non-cheating theory just yet. (And I trust them not to cheat.) Maybe I’ll never pull together the full picture on my own, but that’s okay. Season three: Incoming.

And I am patient.
More or less.

Hmm. What else do I watch with any consistency? Castle, I suppose. That one’s always entertaining. Two thumbs up and a couple of toes. Someone get me a montage of Nathan Fillion biting the back of his hand. Make it happen. Stat.

I’m tired, that’s all. But I only have another week or so before I wrap up this draft, hand it off, and then start something new. Much as I love this project – and I do – I’m looking forward to the change in creative scenery. You’d think this would motivate me to log off and be productive.

And come to think of it, you’d be correct.

Wait a minute. I’ve just discovered Animals Talking in All Caps. Shit, this is shaping up to be a long night.

But during the rainy hours today, the husband and I did yet more hunting and gathering, and all’s well here on the hill. We’re all settled in and ready for whatever comes next.

I’d say there’s a good 2-3 inches worth of fluffy stuff to stomp through in one’s stompy boots, should one have such things and feel like merrily bounding around as if one is five years old.

Of course, in the middle of the small blizzard I realized that I was perilously low on hot butter rum mix; and this being heaven-sent weather for hot butter rum, the situation needed fixing. So when the worst of the weather had calmed, I put on my stompy boots and headed for the grocery store – where the power was out, except for the registers. Looked rather like the apocalypse in there, I don’t mind telling you.

I was half tempted to stock up on toilet paper and milk in case … in case … I don’t know. In case we needed paper mache when the power goes out, I guess. But I restrained myself.

(Well, actually I did buy milk because we were almost out – plus my favorite hot butter rum mix, a couple of bottles of wine, some soup, and some peeled tomatoes my husband declared he needed for some reason or another. So I guess we’re all set over here. I hope the rest of you locals are staying warm and dry, and for God’s sake, staying off the roads.)