April round up

I spent a few weeks of April in Chicago, for the wedding of some most excellent and fabulous people. It's been five years since I've seen them and their crowd, so we spent a couple of weeks geeking out, catching up, and getting them hitched in a very heartfelt and adorable ceremony. It was absolutely lovely, and I'm so glad I could be there for it.

We also hit up the cinema a few times (Deadpool, Star Wars), saw Blue Man Group, and uh... coped with the violent food poisoning American "pudding" gave me on what should have been my last night there. On the plus side, that meant I got to spend a few extra days with everyone. On the minus side, my poor ambulance-driving friend got so worried she almost summoned her EMT friends to give me IV fluids. So that was fun.

Naturally, I was far too busy running around seeing Chicago and mucking about with lovely people to get any reading done, so... Only three books in the two weeks or so I was there, and a couple when I got home. Shortest roundup yet, GO:

Sirens edited by Ellen Datlow and Terri Windling

Stumbled across this in a thrift shop down the road from my friends' place in Chicago, shortly after I finished Snow White, Blood Red. So for 25 cents, I figured I had to buy it. It was good fun, and I was considering giving it to my friends to read after I was done... up until I read one particular story - The Eye of the Storm by Kelley Eskridge. I have fallen head over heels in love with this story for no obvious reason. Aside from the polyamory and the genderqueerness and the general explosion of LGBT+ glory all over the supposedly standard medieval fantasy setting, that is. I am only distraught that there is no novel (series, opus, canon, tie in everything) with these characters. Gyah. I kept the book. That glorious little beauty is mine, all mine.

So You Want to Be a Wizard by Diane Duane

I've been meaning to read Diane Duane for ages and not got around to any. This one, too, was in the thrift shop for 25 cents, so even though that picture above is indeed the cover I suffered through (look at it, it's hideous) I figured it was worth that much. And yes, it was good fun. I wish I'd read it fifteen years ago, when it would have captured me even more, but I still enjoyed it enough to want to read the rest of the series. Solid little middle grade fantasy.

Looking for Alaska by John Green

I feel bad about this one. I borrowed my friend's copy while I was over there, and she and her sister raved about it to me, but... Manic pixie dream girl Bridge to Terabithia been there done that sigh yawn eyeroll? I found it predictable, cliched, and trying just a little too hard to be edgy. Plus I read the special anniversary edition, with preface about how the writing of it came about, and it came across, to me, with an unfortunate lack of acknowledgement of all the YA that has come before and dealt with these subjects. It's far from the first to do what it does, and just a bit more awareness of that would have helped. Sorry, guys. This one really wasn't for me.

Between Two Thorns by Emma Newman

Slightly odd, this. It was brilliant once it got going, but took a little while (and I do mean little) to bring in Cathy, who I'd consider the main character. As soon as she was on scene, I was on board. Through Cathy, we are introduced to the Split Worlds, and the Nether which lies between them. Through Cathy, we learn just how restrictive and horrible the Nether can be. Through Cathy, we uncover more about the world and its systems, and the dastardly plots going on behind the scenes. I love her, and am heartily glad I have book two to hand...

The Fault in Our Stars by John Green

I felt so guilty about not liking Looking for Alaska that I figured I'd try John Green again, and happened to have this one lying around at home anyway. (I acquire books via osmosis and magic.) I thought this was better than Alaska, which was a relief. The characters were more engaging and less prone to existing purely to inspire the others (although that played a hefty part again). I still feel a bit like I've read this before in my early teens, but it bothered me a little less in this one. I can see why it's such a big hit, though.

March round up

This weekend just gone was Eastercon! I had thought I wasn't going to be able to go this year, unable to get the time off work, but what with being unexpectedly ejected from that, I suddenly find myself with a lot of spare time. So I guess there's a silver lining after all.

A tiny, tiny silver lining.

Still, Eastercon is always fun. This year's was in Manchester, at the Hilton in Deansgate. Odd building. Goes up twenty something floors and then decides it wasn't wide enough, so it sticks out a bit and goes up another twenty floors. Kind of like old medieval houses where they paid rent on the land, and acquired more space with every storey until you could shake hands with your neighbour across the street on the top floor (see: Shambles, in York).

Anyway, con! As I say, good fun. Lots of interesting panels, talks, and workshops. I can now write (draw?) circular Gallifreyan, and know more about privacy in Captain America: The Winter Soldier; historical accuracy in fantasy and romance; and the history of Daredevil as a character than I ever expected to. Aliette de Bodard was a fabulous guest of honour. The impromptu disco thrown together when there wasn't one on the schedule was really good fun, even if it was cut woefully short by the hotel's time limit.

Due to leaving early on Monday to catch a flight to Chicago, I had to be restrained in my book buying, despite some beautiful tables of secondhand stuff in the dealers' rooms. So I only bought... uh. I counted, but I don't remember right now. It was... one big canvas tote bag full. And the four I brought on the plane. A mere 20 something? Eheh.

So what have I been reading, in my sudden bounteous free time?

A Gathering of Shadows by V. E. Schwab

Hnnng next book now please. This series is glorious so far. So snappy, so sharp, so tightly written and diverse in characters and exciting and dangerous and beautifully magic. I love it.

Most of the Nikki Heat series by "Richard Castle" (books 2-5 at this point)

Fun to see how these parallel events in the TV show. They read like fanfic; they get the voices from the TV show right and are sneakily stuffed with in jokes as well as the standard entertaining crime novel plots. Kind of has the Lee Child effect; like book Pringles. You start with one, and somehow you just keep going until you don't have any left on hand.

Sex Criminals volume 1 by Matt Fraction and Chip Zdarsky

I think this one got hyped up to me ("Oh my god you have to read it, it's amazing!") a little too much. It was fun, sure, quirky and risque, but it wasn't the greatest thing ever to happen to graphic novels. Fine, but just not perfectly for me.

Vixen by Rosie Garland

Engagingly written, presents the history and the characters in an entertaining way. However, I have major issues with the ending. Very brief, spoilery argh on Goodreads here.

Master of the Five Magics by Lyndon Hardy

Ha, this was a lot of fun. Classic fantasy with a plot that is a thin excuse for outlining five (surprise) different magic systems and how they all connect and work within the same world. This is worldbuilding-as-plot at its height, and I love it. It delighted me and my analytical side all the way through, and I'm giddy with glee to discover there are two sequels. I can only hope they are as keen to lecture me on how magic really works as this one.

Snow White, Blood Red edited by Ellen Datlow and Terri Windling

Always hard to rate short story collections, but this set of grown up gruesome fairy tales was fun and inventive. Some better than others, of course, but if you like stories inspired by all those well known characters and tropes (and you don't mind occasionally veering into the erotic) then this is worth looking into. And part of a series, so you won't run short of wicked variations for quite a while.

February round up

So. Circumstances have changed since the last post. The Harry Potter night was a huge success. Games Night at the shop was getting more people than ever. The SFF section was all tidied up and doing well, with a new reviews-and-local-events display on the wall, and I was just working on what new displays to put in place. And. Uh. I'm not working for Waterstones anymore.

You can ask me what happened, but the truth is I don't know. Mid-February one day, I was summoned to the manager's office during my lunch break and told my contract was being terminated, effective immediately. They said I didn't do anything wrong, so obviously I've spent every waking minute since trying to work out what I did. I have no idea.

It broke my heart a little (a lot). I know how lucky I was to get that job, particularly with so much input on the SFF/graphic novels/board games section. How often do you get to work with the things that really interest you, after all? Wish me luck getting anything that good again; I'll need it.

The shock of that flattened me for a while, so my reading for February took a bit of a hit until I could look at my books and stop thinking about how I'd bought them to review for work, or on this customer's recommendation, or to try out for what to recommend to that regular next.

Here's what I managed in the month:

Rebel of the Sands by Alwyn Hamilton

Wild West Arabian Nights with a fierce, determined heroine. Good fun, interesting world. I really grew to like the main characters a lot as this went on, and I was actually surprised by one of the twists, which is always nice. The setting feels bigger than just the characters we meet, with a more dangerous plot going on in the background, so I'm looking forward to book two a lot.

Shaking Hands With Death by Terry Pratchett

On point as always, with bonus heartbreak now. This one's very short, being a speech Pratchett gave (via proxy) but it's eloquent and forceful, and very, justly, angry.

Tome of the Undergates by Sam Sykes

Good fun, and manages its pace surprisingly well - I was surprised when I looked back at it and considered how few scenes/locations there were for the page count - but repeated use of "orbs" and "ebon" got on my nerves a lot. Reads like a D&D campaign, which isn't a bad thing as long as that's what you're expecting. I'll probably come back for the rest later.

Maresi by Maria Turtschaninoff

It's hard to know what to say about this one. It is feminist, and it is powerful, and it is well written. I think I liked it for its otherworldly quality. But I struggled a bit with some of the plot. Not certain whether I'll come back for any sequels or not.

The Fire Sermon by Francesca Haig

Started off quite familiar and got better as it went. Still a little predictable, but fun all the same. It works from a great conceit to begin with - everyone has a twin, and only one of them is considered "perfect" and good enough for high society, but they're connected. If one dies, they both die. This twisted, glorious notion is explored and expanded throughout the book, along with hefty ideas about segregation, disability, and prejudice in many forms. Dystopian fantasy done very well.

All of Death Note by Tsugumi Ohba

Oh, the mind games in this lot. The endless, spiralling game of cat and mouse between L and Kira (and Kira and the world) is a lot of fun to watch. Death gods and magic and self righteous geniuses abound. Satisfyingly Machiavellian.

The Silver Tide by Jen Williams

A strong conclusion to the trilogy. All the action and sarcasm you'd hope for, based on the first two. Consequences from the other books, plus dinosaurs, dragons, and dark magic, gods and monsters, pirates, a dash of weird magic tech, and a touch of time travel. A properly exciting romp of swords and sorcery with a great inventive flair. I can't wait to see what Jen writes next.

I'm just going to work. I may be some time

Ooh, there's been a bit of quiet on here, hasn't there? Now, what happened in February/March to distract me from here?

Oh wait. That.

So uh. Hi. I work at Waterstones now.

It's been a busy few months. I curate the sci-fi/fantasy/horror/manga/graphic novel/boardgames section at Waterstones York (aka, all the good stuff). I am a horrifying recommendation monster that appears behind people innocently reading blurbs and excitedly extols the virtues of the book they're holding and also these three over here and have they seen that there's a sequel in a couple of months they should preorder...?

It's been a lot of fun.

There have been signings. So many signings.

There have been parties.

There have been games.

There have been costumes.

And there have been conventions upon conventions and dear heavens so many books. So many.

I have taken time off, too. I went and sailed a ship to France and back for a week.

Not kidding.

But it has been hectic, and I haven't been writing much. I managed 50k for NaNoWriMo but I'm only happy with about 10k of it and it encompassed six different novels in the end. I need to get back to the writing properly, somehow. In between everything and everything else, and all the other stuff.

Been reading a heck of a lot, though, particularly for work. I have a whiteboard in the sci-fi section (and tweeted on the Waterstones York account) where people can (and do, surprisingly) vote for what I should read next, and I've been getting through at least one book a week since March.

So during 2016 I'll try to update this place a bit more regularly with those, at least. Read some spectacular stuff during 2015. Some new, some old, some I really should have read sooner...

Top 10 20? Why not. Alphabetised because I work in a bookshop okay:

One Good Dragon Deserves Another by Rachel Aaron
The Goblin Emperor by Katherine Addison
Twelve Kings by Bradley Beaulieu
The House of Shattered Wings by Aliette De Bodard
Red Rising by Pierce Brown
Kindred by Octavia Butler
The Girl With All The Gifts by M. R. Carey
Luck in the Shadows by Lynn Flewelling
Fool's Quest by Robin Hobb
The Alex Verus series by Benedict Jacka

A Thousand Nights by E. K. Johnston

The Empress Game by Rhonda Mason
The First Fifteen Lives of Harry August by Claire North
Uprooted by Naomi Novik
The Anvil of Ice by Michael Scott Rohan

The Name of the Wind by Patrick Rothfuss

A Darker Shade of Magic by V. E. Schwab
Vicious by V. E. Schwab

The Martian by Andy Weir

The Iron Ghost by Jen Williams

Honourable mentions:
Wake of Vultures by Lila Bowen
The Parasol Protectorate series by Gail Carriger
The Invisible Library by Genevieve Cogman
Empire Ascendant by Kameron Hurley
Lagoon by Nnedi Okorafor

Yeah. I enjoyed a lot of books this year. Also read a couple that I will actively discourage anyone from reading, but that seems a bit mean to single them out here.

Films and TV have been pretty awesome this year too. Predictably, I loved all the Marvel stuff, and Star Wars, and all the magnificent geekery made available to us lucky things.

My favourite glorious geek media from this year might still be Mad Max though...

Yeah, I shaved my head for that. Cosplay commitment, baby.

Oh, and uh. I have a girlfriend now. She's awesome. We're swapping geek culture at the moment and now I love FullMetal Alchemist and she loves Loki, so that's all going well. Also contributing to the hectic busy, but that's okay.

Lots of shiny to look forward to in 2016. Here's hoping it's a good one for all of us!

Your name will also go on the list

In real life, I spend a lot of time chatting and hanging out with the people I met through NaNoWriMo. They're a pretty cool bunch who put up with my weird ways, and some of us swap short stories and the like for feedback.

We've also challenged each other with random short story titles (usually deriving from accidental turns of phrase promptly stripped of all context, often varying wildly in spelling) every now and again, which has created a couple of rather good stories in response. Mostly the title doesn't stay the same for the final version, but it's a good starting point/prompt.

In any case, thanks to a full on title war at the last cafe meetup, we now have a List. Some are terrible, some are decent, some are merely in jokes. I expect there to be more as time goes by. And we needed somewhere to put them all. So hi!

Your Stories, Should You Choose To Accept Them:

Lavender and the Random Acolyte
Chilli and the Lighthouse Family
Liquid Gravity
The Happy Cupcake of Depravity
The Judas Locket
Penguins of the Mind
The Grump-Bucket
As My Hand Moves Slowly to My Pocket
Spirit Familiars for the Socially Maladjusted
Swansong
Protected by Lore
The Scorned Glass
Reflections of a Stormy Sky
Has My Head Stopped Spinning Yet
The Amber Glow
In The Nicest Possible Way
Not Yet
A Tea Flooded Drought
The Tear-Filled Pool
Tempus Fugitive
Assassins and Jelly Tots
Amethyst Deceiver
Pavlova's Dogs
Ribbons of Death
Gustave and the House of Magic

More to come, I'm sure. Suggestions welcome! And I'll add more links whenever anyone else takes one on.

Has my head stopped spinning yet?

Whoo-ee, it's been a busy few months. I think I've been to... technically three cons since the last update, making five this year, and then, of course, there was NaNoWriMo (during the course of which I wrote 40k on one novel, then ditched it and wrote 50k of Dryden 2.0 in the last 8 days instead, clocking in a couple of 10k+ days, and a grand total of over 90k for the month, which is the most I've ever done in that sort of time frame. Check that awesome graph!).

And then I got a job at Waterstone's. Just a Christmas temp, for now, but of course it's extremely busy already and I am rather enjoying myself getting to be excited about books all day long. I really should stop clapping and cheering when customers who go off on an epic quest to find one specific book return to me at the till waving it triumphantly in the air, though.

In any case, that's what I've been up to and why the blog has vanished a little! I was all set to do a Fantasycon write up (probably still should; I have lots of notes and had a lot of fun) but was in the process of writing a short story (more like novella, and the most wonderful writing experience I've had in years) over the con anyway, and from then on life sort of hasn't stopped.

But! NaNo is over now, and I shall try to do some catch up here (and on my emails, which have been a bit neglected in all the hectic rush; sorry about that, patient people).

Oh, and Hanith is now out and about in very exclusive printed form; the British Fantasy Society journal finally landed at the very end of November, and I am at the moment rather pleased with how he turned out. I only have the one copy myself, so it's being passed around friends who want to see, but it's reassuring and encouraging to have him in print now.

Onwards!

... and Con-trast

Last Monday, on leaving NineWorlds properly, I headed into London and met up with friends from York. Or, more specifically, three friends from York, one of whom was travelling from Northampton, and one friend from Huntingdon, who was travelling with the other two from York, and... yes, it started off a little complicated and went from there.

In any case, we Assembled in our flat for the week, and on Tuesday we headed out and painted the town red. Or something like that. There were entertaining (hahaha, yes) incidents with the exceedingly height-phobic member of the group (which ruled out further trips on the DLR, though a little late for that first one) and lots of fluttering about getting briefly separated by ooh shiny, but we all congregated together for the Fantasy In The Court event at Goldsboro Books. Whoo-ee, that was a crowd and a half for a little bookshop. I don't think I've ever seen the authors-per-square-metre count quite so high. We were all a little overwhelmed by that, and still tired from journeying (or previous con) and traversing London all day, so we gathered up the signatures to go with the books we'd acquired, I grabbed Liz de Jager a glass of water on my last squirm through the crowd since she looked so despairing when the bookshop staff didn't see her try to catch them, and we called it a night.

We spent a lot of Wednesday in Forbidden Planet... I bought posters wilfully and without care of consequence, along with, surprise surprise, another book, and cried off with one friend to go rest at the flat in anticipation of WorldCon starting the next day. That being said, three of us did sidle over on the DLR to the ExCel centre to hit registration while it was quiet, and ran into a long time friend there too. She lives about thirty miles from us, normally, so of course we only see her when we all go to DragonCon in Atlanta, or WorldCon in London, or... Yeah. We did a quick trip together on the Emirates cable cars nearby just for fun, then split again to get some sleep and recharge for it all kicking off on Thursday.

So. WorldCon.

Con attendance: 10,700, I heard someone say in passing...

Pre-con book count: 29

Six things to do at 3pm. On this page, anyway.

On Wednesday, I checked out the online web app for the schedule of WorldCon, and went through the 1171 listed track events, readings, and signings. I managed to narrow it down to 165, and went from there to the paper programme to narrow it further. Then, of course, it came down on the day and the time to, "What do I really feel like right now?" and "Can I even get into this tiny crowded room?" and "Should I maybe eat something today?" to decide what I actually attended. Now this, this was much more like DragonCon. Highlighting 7 events at the same time and knowing there's a strong possibility you won't make it to any of them because something else will distract you entirely. Looking at the list of vendors in the big dealers' hall and trying to keep the sheer avarice from gleaming so bright in your eyes your roommates won't be able to sleep. Planning which cosplay to wear on each day based around what appropriate panels you'll be trying to get into...

And then of course, life happens, and even the tentative plans go out of the window. Thursday morning, we split and headed into the ExCel separately, so our height-phobic wouldn't have to face the DLR, and then found that he and his partner couldn't get into the ExCel on foot by any obvious means... aside from crossing the lofty DLR footbridge. He could, of course, ask the information desk and the ExCel staff about accessible ground routes. As soon as he was inside. Some circular arguments there. In any case, he summoned help in the form of recently arrived online friends, who were darling and responded immediately, and I mocked him up a blindfold and he, to his eternal credit, made it across the bridge.

I think I went to the dealers' hall after that, to drift and admire and catch my breath. I did make it to swing dancing lessons, and enjoyed swirling about in my steampunk dress (which is astonishingly hot to wear, for having so little fabric in it), and got to two whole panels - pseudonyms, with Robin Hobb and others; and a gloriously genre-spun I'm Sorry I Haven't A Clue that included Mornington Crescent with the addition of fictional stations, and some excellently done One Song To The Tune Of Another, and even a surprise appearance of Hamish and Dougal in Sound Charades (which truly, thoroughly confused those in the room and indeed on the panel who hadn't actually heard the show before). And then we fled again, too tired to stay for the swing dancing event and show off what we'd learned.

I have vague recollections of making it to the "Exceptional Girl Warrior" panel at 10am on Friday, and the notes to prove it, but that one's mostly got lost in the haze of double-con, I think. I remember the "Kill the Parents" panel moderated by Todd McCaffrey, not least because I bumped into two of my gang in there and hugs with Todd were exchanged. I also managed the "Writing SF/F in non-Western Modes" panel, and Elizabeth Bear and Scott Lynch's signings again (having not wanted to bombard them with a stack each at NineWorlds, though in retrospect that would have worked out quite well, it being such a little con), and even got to a little play. (It was called Mastermind, written by Michael Patrick Sullivan, and superbly acted by Rhys Lawton and an understudy for the female part, who was brilliant but not listed on the playbill as it was such a last minute change, and I didn't think to write down her name and am now cursing myself because she was excellent for being thrown in with little to no warning to the point where she still had the script in her hand. Somehow she worked around that so well I forgot she was line-checking most of the time.)

At six o'clock half our group reconvened for the panel we'd been waiting for all day: Welcome... to Night Vale.

Group cosplay always has more impact than single, but the reaction was still immensely pleasing. We were ushered to seats at the front, deference was paid to us throughout the panel ("Well, you have to be careful of those hooded figures - present company excepted..."), and quite a lot of photos were taken afterwards, both in the room and, better still, with a wonderful Cecil (who I'd snapped at NineWorlds) out in the corridor. I delight in a cosplay that makes people laugh and point and smile and compliment and photograph and appreciate the thought, and this one ticked all those boxes. A grand idea from my friend Legira. And the panel itself was pretty good, too, though wryly amusing as one panelist kept desperately trying to find ways to make NightVale make sense...

It did mean I missed the "Liveship Trading: Fantasy Economics" panel, though, so if anybody wants to fire me over their notes from that one I'd be rather grateful.

I should have gone to the Philharmonic Orchestra set; that sounded wonderful from the tweets I was seeing, but instead we rested up a bit and checked out the library in the Fan Village (comprised of tents promoting other cons and bids for as-yet-undecided locations for future Worldcons, gaming tents, chill-out tents, food van, and craft activity tent, all indoors and surrounding a big open green space for kids to wear themselves out playing on, and for tai-chi in the mornings, medieval knights duelling, and Quidditch or other wide games at certain times). We hit up the "You Write Pretty" panel, which was a fun examination of what makes a sentence memorable and appealing to different people, queued for a little while for the Ceilidh, then decided it was running too late and staying upright was starting to make everything ache so called it quits.

Saturday I was Quicksilver again, with Jim Croce on the hidden speaker once more, and running very late to get in to the ExCel. I missed the first two panels I wanted (at 11 and 12 respectively), missed Stephen Baxter's signing, missed breakfast, missed lunch, but managed to squeeze into a panel rather wonderfully called, "Your 'realistic' fantasy is a washed out colourless emptiness compared to the Rabelaisian reality. - Discuss." It was crowded and hot in there - so crowded that part way through one of the ExCel staff came in to herd out anyone standing against the walls or sitting on the floor, even though they were well out of the way and keeping the aisles and exits clear. This was also the start of the frequent mantra I heard all weekend, of how the Loncon staff were excellent, and the ExCel staff were... not, on the whole. He didn't bother to lower his voice as he ordered people out, repeatedly and unnecessarily, talking over the panelists, louder than their microphones, winding up everyone he was booting out and everyone he was leaving in. It was a shame, because the panel was interesting, and I would have liked to hear all of it, even if it looked like I was nodding off because pneumatic drills had kept me awake the night before and the room was warm and soporific. My notes would imply I was very much awake for all of it.

It's also a shame because looking back through the con booklet (more reliable than my dazed memory), that looks like the only panel I made it to at all on Saturday. Again, if anybody has notes for "Travel in Fantasy" or "Full-spectrum Fantasy" or "Meet the New King, Same as the Old King", I'd appreciate that. I was hugely tired on Saturday, and also thoroughly, pleasantly distracted by heading along to Todd's signing with my friends and having him suddenly introduce me to Anne McCaffrey's agent, eagerly pushing me forward and explaining how I write and should be talking to the People To Know, while of course I was going, "Ah. Yes. I would currently be dressed as a character from X-Men, wearing a silver wig and the kitschest jacket known to mankind. Now is definitely the best time to make a first impression on a renowned and experienced professional agent."

Oh well. She was lovely about it, effortlessly graceful and gracious, and didn't seem to mind chatting to us for an hour or so while Todd signed. I hope I will meet her again, when Dryden is edited and I am wholly prepared to start pursuing agents and publishers properly, and so will probably not be in full-on costume. She was also at a little Del Rey event later that evening, which was promoting new and upcoming releases, and followed up our conversation by presenting us with postcards for one of the books she'd mentioned, which was very nice.

At that little event, I chatted to quite a few other people, and notably ran into a freshly-published author with whom I shared a brief squee-flail over X-Men in general, the concept of her novel (One Night In Sixes, it's called, and it appears to be out now in ebook, and I shall have to get hold of it to see if the awesome of the concept carries through - if it does, expect me to get evangelical about it, as usual) and the concept of mine, which was kind of her.

Saturday's efforts to completely exhaust me continued with the 80s Night Dance when we wandered off from the Del Rey party - a rather different affair to the 80s Cheesefest from NineWorlds, where requests were gladly taken and even the Scissor Sisters got played since it fitted the bouncy, cheery musical theme and the mood of the dancefloor. At this one, rather, the playlist was genuinely limited to 1980-1989. And yes, I danced my heart out to Safety Dance, The Final Countdown, Thriller (oh help, people started following me and I immediately forgot the next moves), and Karma Chameleon, but requests for YMCA and the Time Warp never came through. Not from the right era, you see. And requests for Bon Jovi, or Queen, or Bowie, or Abba, or something more danceable than the strange electropunk that took over shortly before 1am were met with blank stares or outright hostility ("There's no way I'm ever playing Abba"), which somewhat soured the mood. We joked that the DJ was playing little-known and not terrible danceable stuff in an effort to clear everyone out and pack up early. Trouble being, when I went up to her with the next attempts at requests, that was actually exactly what she told me she was doing, since apparently she was a last minute booking and wasn't being paid for it. So we left.

The disco, moderately busy. Yup.

The trip back to the flat took far too long, too, since we'd missed the last DLR in the hope of there still being something to dance to (sorry, guys), and the next due night bus didn't bother showing. That did give us time to make sure anyone leaving the ExCel found the right bus shelter, since the one nearest the exit had the night bus listed but wasn't an actual stop, as the people there before us had found out to their cost, but still. It wasn't quite how the night was supposed to end, and I still feel guilty for persuading tired friends to stay late in the misguided belief we would have fun.

I made it into the "We Can Rebuild You" panel the next day, which was a really interesting look at how disability is represented in fiction, although marred by the common problem of the audience questions actually being long comments instead. The "insight into editing for writers" panel later in the day was brilliant, though, and turned into a detailed, professional discussion of how to approach writing on multiple levels, and how to approach publishing short and long term too.

I also managed to be at the HarperVoyager stall in the dealers' hall at the perfect time, and got my fangirl hands on a proof, paperback copy of Robin Hobb's latest, Fool's Assassin. That quite literally made my day and nearly made me cry - I don't tend to buy hardbacks, so I was wondering how I was going to get my hands on a copy to read ASAP. And it improved when, with my friends' help, I managed to get it signed by the lady herself later on. That made Sunday pretty awesome. I caught Stephen Baxter too, having missed his signing previously, which meant I successfully got every one of the twelve books I'd taken down from York signed by their respective authors.

By Monday, the last day of Loncon, I was pretty much exhausted, so I saved my energy to make it to the last panel I really wanted: "Robin Hobb: When Assassins Didn't Need to be Hooded". I ran into a friend from NineWorlds who I'd kept seeing at all the creative writing panels, which made that panel even better.It was also delightful to listen to Patrick Rothfuss, Kate Elliott, and Kari Sperring gush and fan-flail over Robin Hobb. It's interesting, to me at least, to see who other authors enjoy reading, and look at how that influences their writing and reflects their tastes.

Our group reconvened, slowly, agreed we were collectively exhausted to the point of zombification, and cleared off to pack, eat, fit in one dazed game of Ticket To Ride, and sleep.

The trip home was an adventure all in itself, what with diverted buses, appallingly rude Londoners and drivers - and amazingly lovely, kind, and caring Londoners too, other con-goers at the train station, and something like 200 books between the five of us, but I'm pretty sure when we've recovered we'll all be quite happy we went. It wasn't as obviously diverse and openly welcoming as NineWorlds, but it was still a friendly, happy con overall, and there were a lot of people working extremely hard all over to keep things running well. With a little more co-operation and understanding from the ExCel staff (some of whom were superb and engaging and got into the spirit of things, to be fair) it would have been even better.

I have a problem.

Post-con book count: 69

Time in a Bottle plays, over both cons: 319

Con pair...

Today I'm sitting down, not leaving the house, and listening to old, old music I haven't heard in ten years and to which I still know all the words. My brain needs time to recover.

Because this weekend just gone, I was at Worldcon, aka Loncon3. (It's like the superhero of conventions. It has a secret identity and everything!)

The weekend before that, I was at NineWorlds, aka London Geekfest. (Sidekick? Villain? Or the real hero?)

In between, I stayed in London (I usually live in York) and did some other geeky things with friends, including Fantasy in the Court at Goldsboro Books, since a lot of the authors visiting for either or both the above cons were attending too.

So I've been on the go non stop for very nearly two weeks, not to mention the hurried costume-creation and book-sorting and room-booking beforehand.

Con-wise, I'm not a newbie anymore - among others, I've done DragonCon in Georgia the last seven years in a row (and will be sad to miss it this year) and did a lot of the smaller Showmasters cons back when Torchwood fandom was still alive. But I missed NineWorlds last year when it started, and I've never made it to Worldcon, so the individual characters and natures of these two were both new to me. I also usually hate interrupting, imposing, or generally initiating conversation with complete strangers who obviously have a hundred better things to do than talk to me, so I was a little nervous about it all.

NineWorlds first.

Con attendance: about 1700, I've heard.

Pre-con book count: 12

My con started early. I got the Megabus down to London (really not a bad way to travel cheap, especially if you book well in advance and mid-week) on Thursday, the day before NineWorlds started, read over 400 pages of Scott Lynch's Republic of Thieves on the coach down until I was dizzy and dazed when I had to work in reality again, and trekked with my little suitcase, backpack, and tote bag of books from King's Cross over to Heathrow. Outside Heathrow, about to tentatively get on a bus I hoped would take me to the right hotel, I spotted one of the other boarding passengers was wearing a Firefly t-shirt, as she spotted my NaNoWriMo shirt... So I took a deep breath, engaged Con Mode, and spoke to her. Turned out she'd been to NineWorlds the year before and knew the way, which bus stop to use, and how it all worked. We chatted, she led me in to registration, and I was and am endlessly grateful for the reassurance just when I needed it.

And thus NineWorlds started being awesome from the very beginning.

Registration was easy at that point - it being late in the evening (roadworks had delayed my bus/train combo journey so I was an hour later than expected) there was nobody queuing, but friendly faces waiting to welcome us anyway. And surprise goody bags were dished out with our con badges. I'm accustomed to the con booklet, the options of free samplers and advertising posters, and a nice lanyard, but I didn't expect to receive two full, gorgeous books just for turning up.

I think this is an accurate representation, but it's been two weeks now and I'm still dazed.

Other stuff in the bag included 5 "Awesome Cosplay!" tokens (an idea taken from Eastercon, they said), to be handed out to worthy cosplayers, with the note that if you acquired 15 or more you could claim a prize on the Sunday. This lifted my excitable cosplayer's heart in an instant, and had me going, "That's an awesome idea, why doesn't every con do that?"

Next to registration was a "Naming Desk", with a big pot of Sharpies of varying colours, where you wrote whatever name you wanted to wear for the weekend onto your badge, and could pick up extra helpful bits. There were pronoun badges - I seem to recall I saw "he/him", "she/her", "they/their", "zhe/hir" and a blank one to write any unrepresented preference on. I did the "why doesn't every con do that?" again at this point. And there were also "communication clips" - different colours to indicate different preferences. Blue meant "For whatever reason, I find initiating conversation difficult but am more than happy for you to talk to me" (though it wasn't quite phrased like that on some of the reminder posters dotted about the corridors, which I saw get altered during the con to draw closer to this definition). There was also yellow, for "If I already know you, you're welcome to talk to me", and red for "I don't want to/am not ready to talk to anyone right now".

I grabbed a blue and ran off to see what the late night welcome panels were like. And the blue clip came in handy almost immediately: I hadn't had a chance to cut my long silver wig into shape for Quicksilver cosplay yet, and when I slunk into the room, everyone was busily constructing things and chatting merrily among their friends, and I was overcome with that urge not to interrupt people busy with things much more important than my little problem. One of the women in charge of the get-together spotted me and my blue clip though, and came over to ask if she could help. And just like that, she got everything sorted, my wig was hacked down to a better length, and I got to be calm again.

I was BUSY.

On Friday, while dressed as a Vulcan, I made it to panels about editing, swordfight choreography for writers, mythology and fairytales, and "How To Write A Sex Scene" (heavens). Generally speaking, though, despite the pages of notes I took down, the panels themselves weren't Friday's highlights. Instead, I engaged Sociable!Lea as hard as possible and found myself talking to all sorts of people at all sorts of times (like the couple I ended up working with for the Sex Scene panel, and Andy the sweetheart in fabulous World of Warcraft armour), and even bumped into an old friend from the aforementioned Torchwood fandom, much to our mutual surprise and delight.

By the time the evening entertainment rolled around I had a lot of people to wave at and ask after specifics by sight, and a handful I could (and did) stop and talk to and lose an hour without noticing. I prowled the little dealers' hall (I'm used to DragonCon, so although it was varied and delightful and included at least three book stalls aside from the huge, magnificent, drool-worthy Forbidden Planet table all along the back wall, it still seemed small to me) extensively, chatted to vendors and attendees alike, complimented cosplay everywhere, bought books, got books signed (Jen Williams drew, or offered to draw, an adorable dragon in every copy of The Copper Promise brought to her, and Kate Griffin was sweet and seemed excited when I showed up with the very first book she had published some ten years ago, under a wholly different name), rocked out to a Queen tribute band, and danced my feet off at the 80s All-Cheese Disco. When I was leaving my accommodation the next morning, my host asked how Friday had been, and I found myself saying, with some surprise, that it was the best single day I'd had at a convention in years.

Saturday had a lot to live up to.

Panels included: writing Steampunk, creating fantasy languages (WOW, that one was intense! It was like the distilled version of a month long linguistics course, delivered at speed, with a side order of extra geek for the moments it touched on Klingon, Elvish, Circular Gallifreyan and others), and a "Beat Writer's Block" panel which was more like "Spark New Ideas" rather than "Finish Your Damn Story". I also got lots more books signed, including a couple for friends, hit up the dealers' hall some more (by which point I'd already got a reputation for book addiction at the Fox Spirit table), and found time to eat and read a little more of Republic of Thieves too.

All while dressed in full Quicksilver (with fixed wig, and the lovely lady who'd cut it did run in to me and see it in play, to her glee), belting "Time in a Bottle" from a hidden speaker (if you've seen Days of Future Past you'll understand why) and being stopped near constantly for photos and to be handed cosplay tokens. Even Elizabeth Bear gave me a cosplay token while I was getting her to sign books for me. So that was fun.

The evening entertainment for Saturday also included the Whedon singalong (I sat out for Once More With Feeling because I still haven't seen that episode yet). A couple of cosplayers who knew each other and were involved in the Whedon track were dressed as Doctor Horrible and Captain Hammer, so certain songs of that were acted out beautifully, too, right down to full on freezing in place for an entire song. That was well worth seeing.

And then there was the Queer Cabaret, which started off with poetry and music and comedy skits and built up to the most wonderful, lovely thing I feel privileged to have seen. I mean, really. It was just gorgeous. And the standing ovation was so well deserved.

Sunday morning, I dressed in hot pants and a safari shirt and a brown fedora, packed brown leather high heeled ankle boots into my day bag, and set off on the hour or so walk from accommodation to con. Ten minutes in, the heavens well and truly opened, and by the time I reached a point at which I could surrender and get a bus, I was soaked through, and my desperate attempts to shield my canvas bag with arms, hat, whatever (contents: card games! paperback book! notebook! business cards! paper programme!) were no longer stopping the torrent. By getting the bus, I did manage to guide two day-pass NineWorlders to the con, but it was too late for me. I had to stop by the loos to literally wring my clothes out a few times, switched shoes after drying my feet at the hand driers, and schlepped (coincidentally, also the noise I was making) over to the first panel I wanted - a repeat of a hugely popular one from the day before, a "Writing the Other" workshop with Stephanie Saulter.

So I sat there with all my stuff spread across table/floor/chairs to try and dry it out, and tried not to shiver too much while taking all my notes (notebook was shielded from the worst by the book, blessedly enclosed in plastic bag with remarkable foresight by my absent-minded self packing up that morning). I think I worried Stephanie a little. But it was still worth it! Discussion was interesting and insightful, and hopefully will be very useful for everything I'm continuing to write/edit at the moment/in the future. She was so good (and so nice) I went and bought her first book from the dealers' hall later on.

From there, though, I squelched down towards the steampunk room for a cool panel on "Female Characters in Steampunk", and ran into a couple of the friends I'd made, consistently running into one in writing panels, and generally talking to the other for hours non stop. They, lovely, lovely people, looked me up and down and went, "Our hotel room is a few doors down and there is a hairdryer. Come with us." Good move. I cannot recommend hairdryers highly enough for such moments. Although do try not to point them at any bag that contains chocolate or boiled sweets. I ended up dry and even passably warm before I dashed into steampunk, which is probably the reason I didn't end up exhausted and chilled and in danger of illness. That one, too, was worth it, since I then went off and bought Gail Carriger's book on the strength of her panel presence as well, especially since she was signing shortly after that, with Stephanie Saulter. I managed to fit in a quick trip to the info desk to turn in my stack of cosplay tokens for my prize, too, and immediately affixed the "Outstanding Cosplay!" badge to my shirt.

(Not pictured: the little bag of chocolate buttons also part of the prize, which were immediately devoured.)

I hit up one last writing panel on "How to Invent the Wheel", which was a very good discussion of how to consider the introduction of any technology (future, past, hypothetical) into your worldbuilding and properly deal with the consequences and the range of reactions. Fun stuff. And then I went and played some games for a little bit, to wind down before everything packed up and finished. I managed to squeeze in dinner when I ran into the lovely couple from the Sex Scene panel, and we decompressed a bit chatting together in the restaurant. Then, of course, I found a Cards Against Humanity game going on upstairs, shouldered my way in, and spent the next four or five hours there. Fortunately the wonderful hairdryer-lending people wandered in too, so I was able to give dry, grateful hugs before we parted ways.

One of the CAH players, who I'd run into a couple of times at various points throughout the weekend, persuaded me to stay another half an hour/hour or so when I declared time and got up, by offering me a lift back to my accommodation. Sunday, you see, exemplified NineWorlds, for me. It was full of wonderful, kind people, who were happy to help if they possibly could. It was a relaxed, happy crowd, occasionally vexed by hotel staff, full of praise for con staff, and excited, pleased, and welcoming for everyone else.

NineWorlds is possibly the single most friendly, inclusive con I've ever been to. More than inclusive, actually, but positive. Not queer or autistic or disabled or female or minority inclusive, queer/autistic/disabled/female/minority positive. It was a celebration of everyone who usually gets left out of things, a paean to difference, and uniqueness, and how simple it really can be to make things accessible and enjoyable for everyone. The gender neutral toilets on the third floor ("Toilets with urinals"/"Toilets with sanitary bins") and the variety of available pronoun badges instantly signified that this was a safe space for anyone not covered by binary gender. I saw panelists introduced with their name and preferred pronouns, attack ships on fire off the... wait, this has turned into something else. Better stop before it heads into all those cons, lost... like tears...

Anyway. Yes. NineWorlds. NineWorlds delighted me. It reminded me what my first few cons were like. All hope and joy and geeky excitement, with very little negativity around. I only hope it can maintain it as it continues and grows.

I could hardly bear to take off my lanyard. And I kept that Outstanding Cosplay badge on for another week.

Post-con book count: 26

A Pleasant Surprise

Hi there, been a while. A pretty busy while, as it happens. Done lots of proofreading for friends, a lot more running around and helping/cleaning/tidying for friends (and me), and not nearly enough writing. In fact, after some discussion with a couple of folks, I'm halfway through a blogpost about writer's block.

But that'll have to wait another day or two.

Back in February, my very first post on this blog included a short list of stuff I needed to get done. I actually managed all of them. And Hanith, that very first short story I submitted to the British Fantasy Society journal, has now been accepted for publication.

It'll be a while before it makes it into the wild, but I've had a little contact with the folks who run the journal, and they all seem lovely, so I can't imagine it'll go wrong at this point.

So there we go. Step one, achieved. Step two, get another one (or Dryden) out there.

All cool, yeah, nothing to see here. Totally composed and professional, that's me.

Food for thought

Today I made it to see my lovely aunt, as I mentioned I'd be trying to while down here. We had a great time, talking for probably far too long about a surprisingly wide range of things. She's a bit of a gourmet chef (this is an understatement) so given my tentative inching into that Actual Cooking stuff we ended up talking food for quite a while, and she persuaded me to try some new cheeses and crackers. I seem to be surrounded by people who know what they're doing with food and are eager to take me up on my promise to "try anything once". I don't regret it yet...

Among the food discussion, a couple of books came up - Elizabeth David's works, which sound half cookery book, half food history and exploration of why and how regional dishes came about, due to sources of food and so on. I (as you see) whipped out my ever-present notebook and took down the name, because one area where I am very aware I am lacking in worldbuilding is food. I'm really bad at including meals at all when writing, because I don't know enough about what's available in what sort of climate, at what level of technology and civilisation. And I do rather need to include at least fleeting mention of meals when I write so many important Round The Campfire scenes. But I get lost in clickbait when I try to do vague internet research around that, and end up briefly extremely informed about the spice trails through the Middle East and not very informed at all about pre-potato British cuisine. Or pre-British potato-based cuisine, for a little continental diversity.

Anyway, I have a name and a few titles and hopefully that sort of focused attack will help. In the meantime I'll have to reread Ray Mears and make do for the moment.

Ah, the troublesome life of a writer. Nothing escapes scrutiny, to add depth to the next book.

The best kind of nitpicking

I am dangerous to things I love. The more I love a film, TV show, or book, the closer I'll be looking for flaws. There's lots of reasons for that; it means I can defend it better when someone (if we could all just take one concerted look at my brother at this point, that'd be great) inevitably tells me it's rubbish because this... It also means I get to pry open its narrative ribcage and have a poke around at the little problems inside. In the good old days this meant an awful lot of fanfiction to fix the plotholes and the dodgy characterisation and the glossed-over developments. These days it tends to mean I prod one tiny little aspect that doesn't quite sit right (this female character is irritating because with her background she should clearly have reacted in this way... this scene is great on the action but they should have escaped using this clever method... this male character has completely changed his attitude for plot's sake and obviously this must have happened offscreen to make that work...) and unspool a whole new idea from it. Switch up the setting and the surrounding plot and boom, future project.

That's how Hanith started life in entirety, after all. And it's where a lot of bits and pieces in most everything else came from. I tinker. I try to fix things.

This does mean watching films/TV with me has become, occasionally, a little tiring, I'm sure. If talking is permitted (never with my brother, usually not if I'm watching something for the first time, definitely not if I'm watching something for the first time and am desperately interested in it - this is partly why I try very hard to see everything I want in the cinema, so there's no chatter and missed dialogue if it's all new) then I have a tendency to point out these little flaws and discuss with whoever's watching with me. (Oh dear heavens, the ecosystems in My Little Pony, the briefings in the waiting room of Quantum Leap, the skeevy morality and ethics and potentials of the technology in Dollhouse...) And I have definitely got worse at that after hanging around with far too many people (you know who you are) who do the same, profess not to mind, or actively encourage it.

In totally unrelated news (honest, really... No, I didn't think you were going to fall for that) my friend down here in Cambridge and I watched X-Men: First Class this evening. Oh, my love for X-Men knows no bounds. It's just such a beautiful setup, to enable so much fun and such variety among your characters. I'm sure it had quite some influence on the fantasy world I created with twenty magics. (Really, precisely. I can probably still reel off the list. At some point I will go back to that and rewrite the plot and characters with the benefit of a dozen more years' writing and some nice clear hindsight.) I've always liked that kind of smorgasbord of power. A huge ensemble with different abilities, and the real fun kicks off when you team up unexpected combinations. It's just glorious, and I will forever, eternally, be distraught that I didn't come up with it first.

I do love Marvel for that. The films are doing a grand job of taking lots of different characters with defined skills, and smashing them together in fits of glee and beautifully CGI-ed explorations of how they can bounce off each other. Sometimes literally.

You go, Black Widow, illustrate my point.

That's definitely one thing I try to stick to in my writing - people have different abilities, and they work together in different ways. I am long, long past the days of the single overpowered has-every-skill-and-every-power-available characters. Power down and partner up, my dears. Even Dryden, ridiculously powerful as he is, needs other people to do what they're good at.

Anyway, yes. That's the thread I pulled most happily from X-Men. Power team-ups are just plain fun and there should always be more of them.

So, next time you see me apparently tearing something to pieces over a small flaw, bear in mind it probably means I love said thing to pieces, and am trying to dissect its problem so I can fix it forever. Or at the very least pull out its still beating heart and transplant it into something new and wonderful, to live on in a glorious, beautiful new form, with stitches around the forehead and bolts in the neck and that pure, perfect core hidden safely away inside.

Because I love it. So I will preserve it and pass it on.

Assume the Perpendicular

We'll walk the grounds, of Capability Brown...

Anyway, enough Divine Comedy. The friends I'm helping in Cambridge and I went out today, to Wimpole Estate - which I am just this minute discovering apparently has geocaching spots, gosh darnit. Oh well. There was a kids' Easter Egg Trail, which was amusing and got us to meander around the gardens well enough, before rewarding us with a chocolate egg (since my friend was generous enough to buy the official trail guides, which resulted in prizes). And we went up to the farm area and saw all the cute fluffy little baby things, which they both delighted in, and a couple of absolutely flippin' huge Shire Horses, which I sighed over. Pure research, honest. It's not just that I want a giant horse. Really. Promise.

And of course, as happens everywhere I go (I am not kidding; I have managed this in multiple supermarkets), I found some secondhand books for sale. So naturally I rescued a Ben Aaronovitch and a Harry Turtledove from the tables by the exit.

Wheelchairs, however, do not go entirely happily with pine-needle-and-bark-shaving paths, especially when on a slight but persistent incline. My back is a little twitchy and I am rather tired, so I haven't got anything written or read today and it's definitely past my bedtime while I'm writing this.

Daisy sent me an invite to a game called Storium, though, which looks interesting and still has over three weeks left on the Kickstarter - looks like it's going to be a subscription service, to a certain degree, but so far from my little poke around to get set up and join Daisy, it also looks very tempting... Sort of an odd combination of play-by-post forum roleplays like I used to do constantly, and touches of co-operative board games with cards to play and scenarios to overcome. Plus I noticed a lot of familiar names (I'm spying on far too many authors via Twitter) on the list of people they've got doing some worldbuilding for them. So that's pretty darn cool.

I even got the washing up done.

My brain is tired

In amongst all the cleaning, tidying, washing up, etc etc today, I managed to read the first 100 pages of Ann Leckie's Ancillary Justice, nominee for the Clarke Award in May. I've been seeing a lot about this one here and there, since Orbit decided to pair it with Rachel Aaron/Bach's Paradox trilogy for promotional stuff at one point. Lots of the "If you like that, try this" approach, I seem to recall. And then of course it was nominated for the Clarke Award, and it's an oddball, so it's caught a lot of attention. So I'm going in with that kind of bias, and a handful of non-spoilery reviews.

So far, there's a lot of squabbling going on in my head, between writer-me, reader-me, and LGBT/feminist-conscious-me. Between my many mes, I'm pretty sure I'm arguing both sides and the middle. I foresee another far-too-in-depth-and-yet-no-plot-spoilers sort of half review, half analysis in the future. Sorry about that. But I've got another 286 pages to go, yet. That might all change.

Four of the five other nominees arrived at the library back in York, too, today, which is a little frustrating as they'll only keep them reserved in my name for so long, and I am, naturally, in Cambridge until just after the deadline. I was hoping they'd turn up before I came down here, so I wouldn't lose two weeks of reading/reviewing, but oh well. I'm sure I'll work something out.

Anyway. People other than me tried the mini carrot cakes today and declared them tasty, so I'm quite pleased there. If I can work out cooking time, perhaps I can do a full scale one and distribute the icing more evenly that way, because whoa, these things are loaded with the stuff as it stands now. Not that I'm complaining, you understand.

I also ate spinach today for what I'm pretty sure is the first time ever, and it evidently hasn't poisoned me, so that's a plus too.

Weary traveller

I managed to get almost everything done that I'd had in mind today, and since that included the two-and-a-half hour drive down to Cambridge to help out a friend, that seems good enough. And I'm sort of in the process of arranging a brief visit with my aunt, since it's been far too long since I last saw her.

Not a lot of writing, though - the drive was tiring and time on both ends was mostly occupied with cleaning and tidying and packing. I did listen to the first half of Jeff Wayne's War of the Worlds in the car though, and now clearly need to go back and slip a couple of references to that into Dryden. Very easily done.

Otherwise, sort of stalled and tired and in that stare-at-the-page-and-hope-words-happen sort of state. It's always annoying when that happens, but it's worse when I know what needs to happen next, it's just that fingers and brain can't even seem to form the concept of words, never mind find the right ones to put down. So I'm going to sleep, and try again tomorrow when I have more brainpower and time.

Make my cake and eat it

I finally got round to making those mini carrot cakes I've been meaning to do for a couple of weeks now, today. And oh my, they turned out tasty. They're a bit slapdash and flung together with hope rather than technique, but the cream cheese icing I added (from a different recipe) worked out all right. They taste, in fact, like cafe cake. But minus those pesky chewy walnut bits people keep insisting on ruining good carrot cakes with. And the process of making them has revealed exactly why it is that carrot cake is often my favourite cake, surpassing even chocolate at times. There's cinnamon and dried fruit in the cake mix, and vanilla and cream cheese in the icing. It's like they came up with the perfect cake just for me.

I should probably segue into some deep thoughts about the perfect ingredients in storytelling and how there are some stories I'm always going to like if they have these key four elements in them, but it's late and I am tired after two rounds of washing up and a slight tidying spree to boot, and I have a long journey ahead of me tomorrow.

Really, I should try and figure out some way of writing in the car. It sort of feels like the hours on the road are wasted. As hard as I try to cling to the conversations and plot points I come up with on the way, my brain is always so focused on driving that everything else just slips away by the time I arrive. At best I remember the one key plot twist that made me laugh for twenty miles. I suppose it does filter things down to the really important, memorable bits, though. Better than nothing.

Back by popular demand

You may have noticed a lack of posts over the last few days. Interestingly, I've had complaints about that. I was expecting complaints about the excessive chatter, not the lack of it. Oh well.

So, quick refresh: the daily posts were part of an intent to focus on the happy, good things in each day and try to stay positive. You can draw your own conclusions from the lack of posts, I suppose.

Despite that, there were actually quite a few good things over the last few days. I helped a friend plan a complicated cosplay on Wednesday, and received art (and random little presents too, which was so sweet) from my friend Cally. She drew me a dragon for the new pen name, and named her, naturally, Leaf Pendragon. Ah, the puns. I should've thought of that one. Leaf's now the background of my Twitter page. I'm still playing with settings to work out if I can get her onto the background of the blog too, and keep everything legible. She's a pretty thing, though, you have to admit.

I also got some more feedback on Dryden version whatever it is at this point, and more again on Thursday. I was getting very lost in attempts to rewrite, second (and third, and fourth) guessing myself at every turn, certain of some problems and hating other bits but not sure if that was just me or if they actually needed work. Hearing back from my readers settles that - even if I disagree with the odd comment, it still solidifies what I have to do to make progress. It clarifies matters, and reassures me that there's something worth saving in the draft.

There was also the NaNoWriMo group chat on Thursday night, which meant I got a little writing done. Hanith again, poor lad.

On Friday I made it into town to pick up the latest Loki: Agent of Asgard comic, because Loki. It did make me laugh like a drain, too.

Saturday included a trip to the cinema to see Captain America: The Winter Soldier for the second time... So I really can't complain about that. I even managed to do almost all the dishes and cook again, afterwards.

Today was monthly NaNo in-person meetup, too, so I spent the afternoon hanging out with half a dozen other writers, generally geeking out, chatting, and keeping up to date with everybody's plans and current writing status. It's nice, though this particular meet did leave me more exhausted than usual. I think I'm still not quite entirely recovered from the troubles of Tuesday through Thursday. Remember I mentioned how the food and the happy overlap a lot? This does mean that lack of happy equals lack of food, especially if I'm feeling guilty. That in turn slows me down for a while, which does mean a much lesser chance of sparking off further guilt-inducing incidents, but also means it's difficult to get back up to doing a full day of normal stuff without ending up utterly shattered at the end of it.

Oh well. The delays in getting round to actually writing Dryden 2: The Second One have meant that the plot is getting longer, more in depth, and crueller with every passing day. Shame it all makes sense and follows on from the chaos of the first book. My poor characters. They did so little to deserve this.