I'm not going to get anything written today, because I have a psychiatrist's appointment in about two hours.
Peculiar mail from yesterday: An omnibus Russian-language edition of the three Dark Delicacies volumes. "The Ammonite Violin (Murder Ballad No. 4)" has now been translated into Russian (and I've learned that at least some Russian books are printed on even lower quality paper than are my novels):
Also, until yesterday I had no idea I had an entry in the кириллица Wikipedia.
A quick mention of the current eBay auctions. If you missed the announcement last night, we've put up Letter H of the lettered edition of Alabaster...but you should see for yourself, yes.
I know I'm a mean, mean lady, but I absolutely have to do this. I would be remiss in my obligation to be who I am if I failed to do this. Remember Jessica Potts' "Happy Ever After" book column in USA Today? Okay, just before Potts looks forward to that big wooden horse full of Greek soldiers, she showers love upon Chloe Neill, a ParaRom author of whom I'd never heard (but I've never heard of 99% of them, so...). We're talking the ninth volume of the "Chicagoland Vampires series." Cover? Total tramp stamp. Chick, back to us, katana, blah, blah, blah. Anyway, apparently Potts solicited a random quip from Chloe Neill. This is it:
What the author has to say: "My all-time favorite song is Hysteria [sic] by Muse. Every time it comes on the radio, I crank up the volume, and imagine Merit — dressed in her leathers, her ponytail high and gleaming, a sword in hand — fighting and besting an enemy. I love zoning out — Chicagoland Vampires-style — to that song!"
Truly, this one quote explains an awful lot about why publishing, Second Life, literacy, MMOs, and feminism are such hot fucking messes.*
Last night, I finished Berkeley Breathed's Opus: The Complete Sunday Strips from 2003-2008. Bittersweet. A beautiful ending. As a whole, I have mixed feelings about this third vehicle for Breathed's characters. It rarely achieves the genius of Bloom County. But the final year or so is quite good, as if having the end in sight took some weight off the cartoonist's shoulders. The last several strips are brilliant and beautiful. In some ways, I think they're the ending that Bloom County should have gotten.
And now...cold air.
Aunt Beast (the old meanie)
* I maintain that it's perfectly fair of me to make fun of Chloe Neill, as she sells vastly more books that do I. Even if they are silly, vapid trash. Also, if so happens we have the same publisher, which means she knows where to find me if she wants to kick my ass after school.