Lilith Saintcrow

Today is the release date for my first young adult book, Strange Angels. This is the book I refer to as “Supernatural meets Buffy, with a dash of Appalachian folk magic and some Eastern European folklore thrown in. Oh, and Vampire Hunter D.” (You can find the blurb here.)

The initial image for this book was a teenage girl in her kitchen, staring at the back door. She was surrounded by boxes, and she was terrified. Then the angle moved around, and I got a glimpse of the back door, and I realized why she was scared–she was looking at a zombie. And that zombie used to be her father.

I worked on the story off and on, finding out about this girl. Then one opportune day my agent called and said, “Can you do young adult?”

I said, “I can, but it probably won’t get published. It’s got patricide in the first five chapters, and it’s not even finish–”

“Send it.”

So I did. Lo and behold, the book sold. I never thought I’d do YA, because of the darkness (and profanity) that shines through all my work. (Maybe “shines” isn’t the right word.) Besides, there’s my utter unwillingness to dial back on either (because the world is a dark place and hey, people say naughty words) to consider, too. And yet it happened, and I had a great time writing this book.

Now all the work and the waiting has come to an end. There’s a giveaway over at Darque Reviews, and you can find Strange Angels at Barnes & Noble, Borders, Powell’s, Indiebound, and Amazon.

And I hope you like it. Ladies and gentlemen, let me introduce you to Dru Anderson and Strange Angels. I loved writing it, and I’ll close with the same offer I make every time: Come in. Sit down. Let me tell you a story…

As a reward for finishing Flesh Circus revisions last night I allowed myself the first story in the new Peter Beagle anthology this morning. It made me cry over my orange juice and English muffin. I swear, Beagle is one of maybe a handful of authors who can make me cry because a story is so right and so perfectly, beautifully constructed. (Others include Tanith Lee, Sarah Dessen, and Robin McKinley.)

Also, the Jehovah’s Witnesses came to the door this morning. Two men, one older one younger, both in suits. White men in suits make me nervous, so I said, “What are you selling?”

“Nothing…” The younger man was taken aback and shuffling his papers.

I realized they were proselytizers and felt charitable enough to take a flier and say, “I know you have to hand these out. You guys want any coffee or a glass of water or anything?”

“No, no…” They both looked stunned. I told them to be safe out there and shut the door.

Hey, I fight proselytizers with kindness. (It’s like fire with fire. Only it’s popgun versus nuclear bomb, in this case. Plus, it’s part of my own vows.) They’ve stopped sending Mormon boys here because I feed them and send them home with a head full of questions that are Very Bad For Their Faith. The Baptist ladies are very nice, and we quote Scripture at each other while their kids play. However, they stop coming when they realize I have no intention of being anything other than a comfortable pagan with epicurean tendencies and a kettleful of Stoic proverbs. There’s a new crop every season.

I swear when I went into the grocery store last night the trees were bare, and when I came out they were packed with tightly-furled flowerbuds. Yesterday evening the plum tree in the backyard was naked, but this morning it is covered with the tiny maroon buds that aren’t flowers yet, but close. I won’t feel all the way better (early spring is a profoundly depressive time for me) until the plum tree actually does flower in a cloud of pink with purple undertones, but I’m getting there. Barring a sudden frost, spring is here.

Every winter feels like the last. I suppose that’s what winter’s for.

But this morning while I was on the treadmill, a bluejay hopped around in the plum tree for a bit. Yesterday he hopped for a full ten minutes before gliding up to the birdfeeder hanging right outside the window; today he hopped once or twice on branches that are limbering up amazingly with fresh sap. Then he soared neat as you please across the back yard, and I could see every feather as he fanned his wings, braking in midair, and landed on the feeder. He eyed me between scoops of seeds, deciding I was crazy (what human isn’t, to a bird?) instead of predatory, and further deciding the glass meant he didn’t have to worry about one of the cats, who was cheerfully and obliviously sunning himself on the sill. A few more scoops of seeds into his long bill, a long string of scolding audible even over the treadmill’s noise, and he exploded away, winging furiously across the yard to disappear in a tall bank of juniper bushes, where I suspect he has made a temporary home. He is probably hoping a lady jay will be along soon to share a better nest, probably in the plum tree when it leafs out. That’s prime bird real estate in summer.

I keep meaning to put a bat house up in those branches, since that corner of the yard wouldn’t mind a little guano.

Maybe this year I will.

I think we’ve survived another winter. But I’ll wait for the plum tree. Just to be sure.

Happy St. Patrick’s Day! The one day a year I’m especially glad to have green eyes. I am not so glad about the drunken shenanigans, but it’s better than New Year’s, right? Right?

Anyway.

The kind and gracious folks at Cover to Cover Books, where I occasionally volunteer, have given me permission to do something awesome.

If your life is not complete without a signed and personalized Demon’s Librarian, you can now get one from Cover to Cover. If you live in the continental US and don’t mind media mail, the cost is $15.50. If you live overseas etc., you can email them and ask what the charges are. They generally cut fans a good deal.

This is a great thing for fans, but it’s also a good thing for C2C, which is one of the last indie bookstores left in the Vancouver area. (Powell’s is still going strong in Portland, but I rarely get over the river.) I love this little store so much, you have no idea. It’s been a refuge and an awesomeness to me ever since I was aware it existed.

So, if you’re interested, drop C2C a line. Be sure to include where the book is being mailed to, who you’d like it signed to, and if you want further personalization. You’ll hear from them about payment options, and then they will drag me down there by my hair to sign (hopefully) stacks of books.

And if that’s not a cool deal, I don’t know what is.

Great news! The Demon’s Librarian is now listed on Amazon and on BN.com! Huzzah!

I am ultra-excited. Can you tell?

Three things:

* OMG! OMG! Volume 1 of Tanith Lee’s short stories is out! It’s called Tempting The Gods and I’ve been waiting for it for, I dunno, SIX MONTHS or something. I am so stinking happy right now. Must hold off reading it until I get the revisions done, though…

…who am I kidding? I’m already wanting another run through Tiger I and Anna Medea, both of which are in this collection. ZOMG.

* The morning started out problematically–you know, when the sales department starts overruling the editorial staff, you know there’s not so fun times ahead. Fortunately I thought before I hit the reply button, and I had another version of the work in question on tap. Thank God.

A few years ago this would have bugged me. Now I just muttered to myself on the treadmill and waited to see how everything would shake out.

* Three birthdays in the first half of this month, revisions to turn in, cakes to bake, and a mixer to attend and answer questions at. The gods are laughing at me. I know they are. I can’t afford to get sick–massive doses of fluids and Vitamin C seem to be working. Back, foul demons of the common cold! I will have no truck with thee!

And that, dear Readers, is that. I’ve got grocery shopping and more revisions to handle. Ugh. See you around…