Also, this past weekend was the first annual Author Faire at Cover to Cover Books. It was a roaring success, even if I do say so myself. Picturespam after the jump!

My tablemates were Lisa Nowak and Cheri Lasota, who were kind of hesitant about sharing table space with a lunatic, but I won them over. WITH LOVE, DAMMIT. (Not really. They found me amusing and not very frightening. Which I’m glad for.)

Chris Luna, reading a poem he wrote while half asleep.

Cheri Lasota, reading from her recently-released ebook. That’s a Kindle she’s holding.

Bill Cameron, reading from his “Princess of Felony Flats”, a short story I now have to find and possess so I can see how it ends.

Mike Nettleton, one half of the Deadly Duo, recently unshaven. And reading!

Ron Gompertz, reading from his Hitchhiker’s Guide to Ancient Rome. (He brought a helmet. Which I wore, but I can’t find the picture now. IT’S A MERCY, OKAY?)

Toni Partington, reading about crows.

Ann Littlewood, holding off a tiger with a bucket and a shovel. (I am not kidding.)

My tablemate Lisa Nowak reading. (The antlers are optional.)

Carolyn Rose, the other half of the Deadly Duo, with her most searingly personal book.

And THIS is what happens when you leave writers to their own devices. (Note that I was not kidding about the helmet. Note also that Chris is a trouper.)

Also, I managed to catch a wily, elusive Publisher! In the wild! This is PROOF! They do exist as corporeal beings, feasting on the blood, pain, and tears of–oh, I’m just kidding. Lucas is a really nice guy.

Me, I read from the beginning of Angel Town. Lots of snot and gore and heaving and maggots. I think that’s why nobody wanted to talk to me afterward. See, you really cannot take me anywhere.

Special thanks to Cover to Cover for hosting the event! And for sandwiches. Also, thanks to Vito, who loomed, and the Martian Mooncrab, who brought me a lawn-gnome Christmas ornament, and to Reader Rachel W., who totally made my day.

And now I’ve a lunch to inhale and some more zombie cowboy to write. Over and out!

No related posts.

* Want to chat me up and maybe get some books signed? Come to the First Annual Author Faire at Cover to Cover Books! I’ll be there Saturday, December 10, from 11AM to 3PM, along with other great authors like Bill Cameron and Lisa Nowak. I plan on drinking tons of coffee so I’m bright-eyed and manic. Should be lots of fun.

* Today I’m over at the Orbit Books blog, talking about the Hedgewitch Experiment. Any day I can use the phrase “suppository supposition” is a good day.

* Oooh, they dug up a Pendle witch house!

* Big happy doings on the YA front. I can’t say much yet, but it involves a new series. I hate sitting on secrets like this, so rest assured, as soon as I can give more details, I will.

* A certain Squirrel Wonder scared the bejesus out of some guys in my front yard the other day. Which reminds me, I really have to tell you guys how that convalescence of Neo’s turned out. It involves me barefoot and screaming in the backyard again. It’s nice to know I’m consistent…but I’m amazed you guys aren’t bored yet.

* I am starting a project. It involves wine and livetweeting my reading of Anne Rice’s The Witching Hour. I did the first 25 pages the other night and had a blast. My favourite? “Hi, I’m Aaron Lightner/Rod Serling. For the next 965 pages, I’ll be showing you through Anne Rice’s id.” I kill me sometimes, I really do.

* To the skeezy guy trying to chat up the young girl with her dog near the middle-school’s soccer field this morning: my earphones weren’t playing music. I just don’t want to talk to people while I’m running. Consequently, I heard every word you said. And yes, I was looking at you. Because YOU ARE CREEPY. I’m glad the girl fled, and I took that extra lap around the track just to make sure you didn’t follow her. I’m surprised my gaze didn’t burn a hole in you. NEXT TIME IT WILL.

Yeah, Friday. It’s turning out to be a doozy. Let’s skip dinner and go straight to the drinks…

No related posts.

* To those of you asking for a Hedgewitch Queen/Bandit King spot in my fan forum, success! Here it is.

(See below)* I am informed there are some copies of Reckoning floating around out there with a printer error. As in:

Just finished reading Reckoning. Very confused. Book pages screwy? After p278 went to p215 with repeat through p246 then ended.– A fan on Twitter

There was a printer error, and they thought they caught all of them, but such is obviously not the case. My editor is asking around about how to solve the problem. So, hang in there–as soon as I know more, I’ll share it here.

* This last Saturday my friend Zen E. participated in the Portland Boulder Rally at the Circuit NE. I was on hand with the video camera, and it was a great event! I am constantly surprised by how supportive the climbing community here is. Out of all the people I’ve met since I started climbing, there’s only been one outright-nasty person. The rest of them have been kind, thoughtful, polite, cheering on everyone and just generally being good sports. It’s amazing. Anyway, Zen stuck her last route of the day, one she’d been working for a while during the competition, and it was great to see. (The video of the occasion holds audio of me whooping with you when she makes the last move and her hands stick at the top. I was Very Excited.) Thanks to everyone who made such a great event possible!

* I’m getting a lot of mail about Steelflower lately. Guys, even if I had time to write the second in the series, there are other considerations. I know you want to read about Kaia and her troupe heading off to Rainak Redfist’s homeland to take back his birthright, but it might not happen for a while, and being angry with me won’t help or solve anything. I have the last two books of the series in my head–the third book deals with Kaia and Darik’s return to G’maihallan. But like I said, it may be a while. I am looking at a number of different options. That’s all I can say.

Coming up this week: my thoughts on epub-only, the Pyrrhic Victory of Pelennor Sunroom, and possibly (if I can figure out how to meld the music into it) a podcast. Not sure about the podcast, though. It takes me a while, and much swearing, to get those right…

Over and out.

ETA: Heard back from the publisher–no more than 200 copies escaped with the error. If you received one of them, contact the publisher’s Customer Service directly. If you can’t take the book back to the bookstore from whence it came, they can send you a new copy. (Note the “IF.”) Thanks for letting me know about this, guys–I got six emails in a 20-minute span about it on Monday, and about had a heart attack. Whew.

No related posts.

I promised an Authorfest post! And lo, here I am. I took tons of pictures, but unfortunately, most of them were blurry to the point of being unsuable. The fever-shakes had me pretty bad–I hope I was not contagious, since my recovery since Sunday has been pretty steep. (Still can’t breathe near the top of some climbs, though.) Anyway. The majority of un-blurry photos I did manage to take were part of a shoot involving Devon Monk and a fan dressed as her character Shame.

Well, you know, if anyone had showed up dressed like Japh, I probably would have bolted for the exit. He’s not an encouraging sight.

You can’t quite see her, but on the left a few people back is Ursula le Guin. She’s signing for a HUGE line of people. The Selkie was a trouper, and stood in that line so I could get my battered mass-market paperback of Tombs of Atuan signed. Later, when the crowd died down, I got to go stand in the line and just tell her “Thank you for Tenar.” I have to admit that I broke down and cried. It was that awesome. She was marvelously kind, and the fire in her eyes is scorching as ever.

Feverish and shaking, I clambered up on a chair (not a good idea) and got this shot of the authors and some of the crowd. I would guess there were 150-200 people there in line alone, plus members of the 501st and of course, thirty-plus local authors. (There’s a reason I call Peter H., the sci-fi/fantasy guy at Cedar Hills Powell’s, “Saint Peter.”) It was packed.

Recognize this guy? If you’re one of Devon Monk’s readers, you do. Readers, meet Shame. At first I thought he was one of Devon’s sons’ friends; I was all, “Do I need to teach this punk a lesson, Devon?” Then she explained, and he was in-character until he cracked a wide, electric smile. He was a good sport, especially with we dragged him out into the hall for a photo shoot with Devon.

Speaking of which…

Dame Devon’s going to kill me, but I couldn’t pass this up. Here, perfectly encapsulated, is the relationship between Author and Character. Feel the love? I bet you do.

Big thanks to Peter, and L.D. the Bookweasel, as well as the staff of Cedar Hills Crossing Powell’s, for another wonderful event. Also, a big heart-you goes out to my fellow authors, all of whom were very gracious when my big mouth opened and fever-induced mania came out. (Mary Robinette Kowal, who everyone should be reading, and Barb Hendee, TEAM LEESIL, in particular, and Meljean Brook.) And, last but certainly not least, thank you, dear Readers, for showing up in force. (Especially M. Oyen, but NOT Flinx–where were you, man? *grin*) It was a lovely event; I wish my health had been better.

Now I’ve got to go cower in the corner in case Dame Devon comes looking for me. I promised not to post anything. *evil grin* Hopefully, she’ll show some mercy, because I didn’t post the video…

…oh, my, I wasn’t supposed to mention that, was I?

*flees*

No related posts.

I have Authorfest photos that I should put up, but that’s going to have to wait.

* A lot of you write to me asking about the cover models for the Strange Angels series. Guys, I do not know. You would do better asking the publisher, Razorbill. As an aside concerning Dru and the gang, I am now getting a bumper crop of mail from teachers, librarians, and youth counselors. Dear Readers…thank you. Thank you very much. I am glad to hear what you have to say. Bless you.

* Here, have Bruce Wayne’s medical report. I haven’t laughed like this since Man of Steel, Woman of Kleenex.

* Jane Austen might have died of arsenic poisoning. Note that the poisoning was most likely accidental, say, a medicine to help her rheumatism. Nevertheless, I have a mad idea of a lady novelist dead of arsenic, resurrected by a form of clockwork science, and shambling toward those who pique her with the jawbone of a literary critic clutched in one rotting speckled hand…

* Oh yes, and you get a twofer: two short stories by me, released through Orbit Short Fiction. Unfallen, the prime story, was inspired to a great degree by Slacktivist’s (ongoing) reading of the Left Behind series so we don’t have to. (Incidentally, Mr. Clark, if you would like a gratis copy, please do email me.) Also included, I believe, is The Last Job, an Izzie Borden super-short that pleases me quite a bit, and is a sort of homage to Hammett, Chandler, and Woolrich. I rather like Izzie and would love to write more shorts featuring her.

Unfallen by Lilith Saintcrow

by Lilith Saintcrow

I do realize I need to post pics from the Authorfest and write the second half of the Battle of Pelennor Sunroom. I’m getting there, I promise. IN the meantime, I am fueling my recovery with pita chips and ginger water (this is the first time I’ve felt actually hungry in days) and sheer stubbornness.

Over and out.

No related posts.

I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking, Lili, shut up and get to the damn pictures. Okay.

Ilona and Gordon taking dictation from Gilbert, the Zombie Gnome. (Just kidding. They're signing.) You can also see Peter H. the Magnificent, and a writer who shall remain nameless.

More signing! This went on for a while. Guess why.

THIS is why. Holy Jehosaphat.

Gilbert approves of the signage.

Stone the Gargoyle, however, was busy hanging with the ladies.

Author feet! Guess who's who!

Gordon's hard at work, I'm busy playing paparazzi.

Of course, we all know Gilbert was the real star of the show.

That gargoyle is quite a ladies' man!

On to the event!

The crowd was humungous.

"Everyone who does NOT want to be on Twitter, cover your face!"

This is the least terrified I looked all night. (Hi, Flinx!)

THE MADNESS!

You can see, in the middle of the crush there, Ilona hard at work signing.

And it's not an event without Evil Cupcakes from Dina James!

More photos are probably forthcoming, once Ilona and Gordon recover. We closed down Powell’s (kind of like closing down a bar, but infinitely cooler). ALSO, there is a lucky winner of the RECKONING contest, who I will announce tomorrow! (Hopefully I’ll have those extra photos to add, too.) So we all stumbled home, covered in tinsel, utterly worn-out but wearing huge goofy grins.

Not a bad way to spend an evening.

Related posts:

1. Sunburnt, Dirty, And Terribly Happy (Smith Rock 1)
2. Gnomepocalypse!
3. They Are Odd And Winsome Beasts, Those Writers

What you can win: There will be four (4) winners. I will be giving away three (3) signed copies of Defiance (note: if you’re outside the US, I will have to send books to you through BookDepository instead, sorry about that.) ONE lucky winner will get a set of all Strange Angels books so far–Strange Angels, Betrayals, Jealousy, Defiance–again, signed if you’re in the US, sent through BookDepository if you’re not.

What you do: In the comments of this post over at the Deadline Dames, you’ve got to tell me the best piece of trivia you ever found. I’m not talking about the most arcane, or the one you think will impress other people. I’m talking about that useless fact you found that made you deeply happy, made your socks roll up and down and your pants fly off. The winners will be picked with the help of Random.org; if the random spits out a comment number that has no trivia I’ll pick another. Remember, you must go to the Deadline Dames post to comment in order to win!

Ready? GO!

Related posts:

1. Heaven’s Spite, and Giveaway!
2. DEFIANCE Release!
3. What A World, What A World…

That’s right. We’re getting a dog.

I went down to the shelter yesterday and we found a very sweet miniature Australian shepherd; a working dog. (They get a little antsy if they don’t have a Job, and I sympathize. And there’s plenty for her to do around here.) Venturing into the shelter is a particular type of hell for me–I want to take home every dog there and feed them and love them, but I can’t. I was even prepared not to find a dog who wanted me, but my luck was good–as it always is, with canines. She looked at me, I looked at her, and I swear she cocked her head and said “GO HOME NOW PLEASE?”

It was that simple. Just like always.

Unfortunately, I had to explain that she’d be staying there just a little bit longer to handle the spaying, but I don’t think she understood. In any case, I’ll be bringing her home very soon, and the upheaval will be glorious. I was surrounded by canines growing up, and it’s always been odd to not have a dog during my adult life. Now that I’m in a position where I can take care of one, huzzah! It will be good for me to have a hound around, it will keep me active, and oh, my God, I’ve missed having a dog so much.

I suspect the excitement (plus the tail end of a vicious flu bug) is what woke me up at 3am this morning. I gave in to the inevitable, got up and wrote for an hour before hitting the treadmill, and felt Very Virtuous. Still do, though I suspect I will need a nap before long. Before then, though, I’m on a roll. I have managed to introduce the assassin into the mix, and we’re about to have a lovely knife-throwing, and a little blood shed, and an oath or two sworn in good faith. All in all, it’s not a bad way to spend a morning.

I’m too excited to settle to much beyond writing and preparing the house for tomorrow. So, there it is. Further bulletins as events warrant.

Over and out!

Related posts:

1. Long Night Is Over
2. The Sea Came To Me
3. Yes, I’m Okay

* The Return of the REAL King, a review of a new book on Elvis. I am pretty fascinated by the ongoing worship of all things Presley, and this book seems to focus on a little-mined subject: the actual making of the music instead of the messy personal life.

* A fascinating look at Russian television.

* Waterloo teeth. This is one of the reasons why I don’t get when people say history is boring. It’s juicy and fabulous and utterly weird.

* Chuck Wendig’s utterly hilarious take on why you don’t want to be a writer. I laughed until I cried, holding onto both sides of my desk, sides heaving and tears rolling down my cheeks.

* Monica Valentinelli on a writer’s hidden enemy.

And with that, I’m outie. Got to work while the iron’s hot, and there’s errands today besides. See you.

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1. Interview And Linkspam
2. Linkspam! (And Drop-Dead!)
3. Podcast, Dopamine, And Nonexistent Mafias

My project for the morning (other than bouldering and getting in wordcount) is to find a decent map of London in the 1850s; one at least 2ft by 3ft that I can get laminated and tack up over my fireplace. Of course I plan on altering things with (relative) abandon–what use is history if one can’t have a little fun–but I’d like the bones up there for me to build on, so to speak.

Yes, this is for the current work, but I don’t know if I can announce it yet, so mum’s the word until I get permission. But it’s awesome, I am hideously excited and almost dancing with glee every time I get a chance to work. This is the period of creation where everything is shiny and fun and new, where everything feeds the work and serendipity, not to mention synchronicity, is working overtime. There comes a certain point where something clicks in a book, the characters get a breath of life and start misbehaving in earnest, and the whole thing achieves a critical mass and starts behaving like an organism in its own right rather than just a disparate collection of words.

I love that.

So, I’ve a fresh cuppa and a mass of reference books stacked at my elbow, tissues within reach and the window to my street uncovered. The clouds are gray cotton, the street is gray pavement, even the grass is grayish. But there’s color and life and motion inside my head.

Let the magic begin.

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2. No Fish Today, My Dears
3. All Saint’s Day