I had a rather good dream that had the bones of a MG/YA thing, in which there was a (difficult to access) window that led to another time period, and in which Amanda Palmer was the rather alarming Queen of Faerie. The sort you don’t mess with. I can’t, of course, remember any details, which makes me wonder once again if one could achieve dream recollection through hypnosis… We arrived safely in America, after the excitement of discovering, the night before we left, that my US passport had expired five…
Author: mizkit
Recent Reads: ARROWS OF THE SUN
ARROWS OF THE SUN, Judith Tarr: holy crap. I began suspecting that this was the second series somewhere early in the book, and I was right, so now I know the bones of the first series, because it was too good to stop reading and besides, I was on an airplane and couldn’t get the first book then anyway. (You, being forewarned, should start here instead of where I started.) It as also somewhere well before the magnificently ruinous romance really began to unfold that I started to see where…
evil vs pratical
Amazon may be an evil empire, but man, the check I receive from them every month sure helps smooth things along. It makes me desperate to do another self-pub project just to add a little to that kitty. In, you know, my copious free time. *sigh* I haven’t had time this year to work on my contracted projects, nevermind a freelance thing. (This is unfortunately pretty literally true. It’s been my worst writing year ever since I became a professional and the worst one in memory since I began writing…
i amn’t ded!
Just apparently either terribly busy or terribly boring. Last night we made it to the beginning of the celestial alignment in ‘Highlander: The Source’ before being unable to stand it anymore and concluding one had to be already preposterously drunk to watch that movie. For those following along at home, that’s about 7 minutes into the film. OMG, teh bad. But, Twitter assures me, in defense of the first 7 minutes, it gets much worse. Given that I was already peeking through my fingers and kicking the couch and writhing…
shindigs!
So I got outbid on that fabulous 1920s style dress, as I’d expected to. I was regretful but not surprised, and started poking around at other not-quite-so-good ones. Then I got an email from a reader. She’d clicked through to see the dress, her husband had seen her looking at it, surmised that she wanted it, and bid on it for her. “But,” she said, “I didn’t want it, I was just looking at it, so would it be too weird if I just had the seller send it to…