27 October, 2020

HOW THE MULTIVERSE GOT ITS REVENGE

 What happens when happily ever after...isn't?


This was not an easy book to write for a variety of reasons, but I'm pretty pleased with how it turned out. I hope that you like it, too.



23 October, 2020

Get a preview of REVENGE

 ...which is out on Oct. 27. Holy shit, that's next Tuesday. 

(No, I am not being a smart-ass. I just, you know, calendars and time and teaching and all this.)

So! 

Tor.com has an excerpt posted, if you're curious. 

I've also got a guest post up on Fresh Fiction about world-building and genre-blending.

 And...just in time for Halloween, a live-actor read of one of my short stories, "Increased Tolerance," which was published by Crossed Genres in 2009, and performed here by "Nobody Reads Short Stories." There's even an interview with me at the end, which honestly gives me the vapors to admit to in public, but HEY. It's the times we live in.



And if you've made it this far, I will be reading at World Fantasy next weekend, and also participating on a panel about fairies on Halloween. More details upcoming!

06 October, 2020

From the scraps...

It began as the "what do I do with leftover handspun?" project. Some leftovers of blue/purple silk blend (which wouldn't felt well) plus and then a lonely partial ball of a pale grey-pink gradient which was not silk, but a BFL blend (that would also not felt well)... 

...plus a skein of OMG PINK (silk blend? maybe?) and some beautiful sunset-colored Polwarth M. gave me for my birthday (which felts like a bad boy),  and then just knitting in a spiral until we get this. 

It's all M's dye-work. 

Obviously Murdercat approves, so what else does a rug need?

 


21 August, 2020

this year exhausts me

 As I am sure it exhausts most of us. And I recognize that to be exhausted, rather than, oh, evicted, unemployed, evacuated, homeless, sick, or dead is a privilege. I am privileged. I acknowledge that. 

But fuckssake.

This week, the exhaustion has been more physically literal, because it's been stupidly, dangerously hot in my state (which is also on fire). I am not one of those folks who functions well in heat. I can handle it, insofar as I don't get immediate migraines or pass out or sweat excessively. I do get more anxious and more irritable. We are privileged to have A/C, which we try and limit our use of, because the power grid and rolling blackouts and all that. We can survive here on the coast without it (we did, in graduate student housing, which is literally across the street). We turned it on this week, set to 80, and it felt good. Cool.

Climate change, y'all. This isn't weather. The middle of the country blew away with the derecho. (My cousin lost her home.) People are dying of COVID all the fuck over, while other people whine about their masks and their rights and send kids back to school so that... yes, they can get sick and put hundreds into quarantine. The post office is being dismantled.  My state is burning up. People are losing everything. The sky is red. The air up north is black; here it's not so bad, most of the time. But I am aware, with every beautiful, lurid sunrise, that things are burning.

My fall class is about the zombie apocalypse, which seems more applicable this year than it has in a long time. I used to teach zombies because they were trendy. Now, though? It resonates. The end of the fucking world, indeed. We're remote, at least. This university has sense.

The DNC happened. I didn't watch. I mean, they could run a half-eaten sandwich and some moldy cottage cheese and I'd vote for them. I am fine with Biden. I am delighted with Harris (I wanted her for president, or as Warren's VP, so...). Now I fret about whether we will be allowed free elections (post office!) or if we do have them, and we win, someone won't vacate the office. Or, if we win, the people who really do want everything to burn take steps to make it happen. So yeah, I have some hope. But I'm not at all complacent. I think you can't be, if hope means anything. Hope is uncertain, by its nature.

I don't have more profundity than that. Tinycat is demanding her lunch, which she gets now in an effort to get her weight up (which is working, though I don't think we've cleared 7 lbs. Her highest ever was 8. I'd be happy with somewhere around 7.5). So I am going to feed a cat.

tinycat in the window
le petit chat noir


22 July, 2020

scattershot

Y'all, I am not a super fast writer of nonfiction, and sometimes I take a couple days to think about how I want to address a particular topic. Except the breakneck idiocy of ::waving hands:: all this is such that the topics pile up until I don't write at all because other more eloquent, and speedy, people already have.

But let us be clear:

Black Lives Matter. Transwomen are women and transmen are men. Science is real. Wear your fucking masks. And this Portland thing? Armed and unidentified federal troops grabbing people in "proactive" arrests? That's straight up authoritarian toadshit. Gods both small and large, vote in November.

...Thus has passed July.

I had a birthday early in the month, in which I turned a firm corner into my late 40s.  It was an odd birthday, in that we went nowhere and did nothing and I cooked (sure, Nous would've cooked for me, but I wanted chili verde and I like making chili verde and so). I even made my own cake, which actually a blueberry buckle (I didn't even know buckle was the legit name of a fruit-pastry thing, but it is). It was in fact a day like most other days around here, which have been divided into D&D night(s), and Borderlands 3 nights, depending on the number of participants.
The Patchwork Terror, 1 year old

The Patchwork Terror also had a birthday. He is north of 12 lbs and still growing. He is as soft and plushy to touch as he looks, and also, that tail clearly belongs to a different cat.

I made yogurt for the first time, which was easy. I have acquired a very tiny ice cream maker, and made good matcha ice cream and fantastic strawberry frozen yogurt and an okay sorbet. Next up, coffee ice cream. I have not had this much full-fat dairy in my fridge in, like, ever. I don't care. I gave up beer except on D&D nights and I will have whipped cream and ice cream and full-fat yogurt if I want to.

I wrote the first fifty pages for one of the books we're going to pitch to my editor at DAW, and I think it's pretty good. We'll see if my agent agrees.

I resigned at the HS. I am sad as hell because I love those students, but I need more time to write. The pandemic has only reinforced my decision, because boy howdy, the reopening of schools is a scary prospect, and also, I cannot take another moment of Zoom.

I have a merit review file due right about the time school starts. Not difficult, but time intensive.

I have decided to teach the zombie apocalypse as my theme for the fall quarter, partly because it's relevant again, and partly because if I have to do a whole new syllabus and prep for a fully remote class, I might as well at least use texts I am familiar with, especially since I have that aforementioned merit review.

I refuse to start either of those last two things until August (although, truth, I have started them both. Just a little.)



06 June, 2020

Fuck Racism

That is all.

No. Wait. It's not.

Zack de la Rocha grew up in this little city, going to a school a couple blocks away (which is now a boarded up refuge for wildlife). Having lived here now for, oh, more than a decade, I get the origin of the rage. I see the machine.





Rage Against the Machine - "Killing in the Name"



14 May, 2020

How the Multiverse Got Its Revenge


Y'all! Here comes the sequel to How Rory Thorne Destroyed the Multiverse! Publication date is October 6.

What can I tell you about this book? The cover art is gorgeous, obviously, and you should go preorder it, obviously.

Oh, fine, you want more detail than that. Okay. The premise is this: I wanted to look at what happens in the so-called happily ever after--which is to say, I wanted to take the idea of happily ever after, set it on fire, and roast marshmallows over it. So here's what happens when our princess decides to go off and (try) not be a princess anymore and finds out that political ignorance is not only not bliss, it's also a liability.

Plus! New xenos! Space battles! A special guest appearance by the green fairy!



Preorder now at: