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I’m a crap blogger

But you all knew that already, right? Yeah. I think it’s kind of too late to post a WHC report, but to be honest, it was a pretty low-key affair for me. I spent much of the time battling a massive migraine, and losing the battle – I missed almost all of the panels and parties because I was in bed with tears streaming down my face, trying not to 1) move, or 2) kill myself, because the pain was actually that bad. My reading went very well, though, and my panel was fine – I didn’t hog the discussion, nor did I freak out and hide under the table. Someone told me how much they loved my story Keep Calm and Carillon. The look on their face when I corrected them was delicious. I met a lot of awesome people, didn’t spend enough time with them, and I expect next year’s con to be much the same. End of report!

The novel -which I am officially calling FrankenNovel (until it has an official title), is coming along slowly but surely. Other than that, not much to report here. Still getting ready for the Wolfram & Hart “Run Till You Drop Like a Sack of Shit” walk/race. Still covered in ants, and getting ready to be covered in summer bees. This is my life. It sucks all kinds of ways to Sunday, but it’s the only one I’ve got. Unless, you know, I haunt the fuck out of this planet, and I’m still enthusiastically planning on that. It’s good to have at least one thing to look forward to.

Lastly: here’s a new review of Engines.

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Originally published at Livia Llewellyn.

Marine Autumn

I owe you marine autumn
With dankness at its roots
and fog like a grape
and the graceful sun of the country;
and the silent space
in which sorrows lose themselves
and only the bright crown
of joy comes to the surface.

--Pablo Neruda.


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