I find writing when there’s music on to be very difficult, but two things are now working against me: One, at the moment, I’m huddled in my office working while the landlord and Ted deal with Manly Things (ie, moving heavy objects, cleaning drains, building sheds, etc), and I have the cats locked in here with me. They are slightly less demanding to be LET OUT NOOOOOOOW if there’s music on, possibly because it makes it harder for them to hear the Interesting Things going on outside the office. Two,…
okay, okay
I have bowed to peer pressure (mostly from ) and have created a Facebook fan page for, er, myself. (Honestly, FB has it set up so it really wants you to do it yourself, even if that seems uncomfortably weird to me.) I’ll do, I don’t know, something interesting, give away a book or answer one question about one of the series or something, when I reach 100 fans, and another when I reach 250. And since I guess I’m doing Shameless Self Promotion this week, I might as well…
best. friends. EVER.
I just got a package in the mail from the redoubtable Blue Haired Angie. This is always a fun thing, so I opened it quite happily, and discovered within the two Beauty and the Beast comics Wendy Pini did based on the late 1980s television show. And I thought, “AWWW,” and smiled a lot, because that was very wonderful and thoughtful of Angie, and well, she couldn’t possibly know that I already owned them. So I plunked down happily to read the note that Angie sent along with the comics…
a splendid day
The entirely wonderful Leah Moore and John Reppion were in Dublin yesterday to do a signing at Sub City, our favorite neighborhood (for some value of neighborhood) comic shop. I went in to Dublin to see them and to run errands, and had a really very splendid day. oh, this got quite long, I’ll cut-tag it…
Hot Time in the Old Town Tonight
She was too young, even for a man with no age, but she caught his eye. Slim, dark-haired, with long fingers caught in the skirt of a shapeless dress, she was clearly not a child of wealth. She no doubt belonged to the riverboat upon which she stood, a shabby thing that had seen better days. Even so, in the fire’s light they both bent toward beauty. It was her gaze, fixed on the sky, which arrested him. Others watched the fire, drawn in by its glow and movement, but…