Lilith Saintcrow

Holy moly, was last night intense. As usual, Peter H. and Milo and the rest of the crew at Cedar Hills Crossing Powell’s made everything run smoothly, and the crowd was amazing! (Special thanks to my inimitable writing partner, who did the driving for me.) Ilona and Gordon were Fabulous with a capital Fab, and Dame Devon was, as usual, gracious, prepared, supportive, and just all-around fantastic. I was not arrested or thrown out. Everyone wins!

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

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That’s right, yesterday was the official launch of the fourth in the Strange Angels series, Defiance. I celebrated with Episode 2 of my podcast, Ragged Feathers. But that wasn’t nearly enough celebration, so today, I’m giving books away!

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!

It’s been fifteen years, and I think I’m about ready again. Well, I was willing a long time ago, but now I’m able.

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!

Have blown out three electrical appliances in the last two days. (Temper, my besetting sin.) And today I’m not going to be slowing down for anything until dinnertime (and maybe not even then) so here are some links in lieu of a post:

* 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.

Thanks to everyone who has suggested Victoriana for me! Especially Reader Ariella–thanks for the ISBNs, they make things a ton easier.

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.