In other words, I can't be trusted to remember when it's my week, and my reminder service glitched. So instead of a nice, planned out post, I'm winging it. Be afraid. Be very, very afraid.
Anyway... Impaler moves closer to the dead tree edition. It should be there Real Soon Now - watch for the deafening squee when this happens. As is, the kindle edition is sitting in the mid-60k range of the Amazon rankings, which for a new author's book with zero promotion is pretty good. I'm pleased.
My con schedule for the rest of the year is set - Discworld Con in July, Capclave in October, and Philcon in November. Details to come as the time gets closer.
Now, did Amanda's challenge scare people away? Really... Let's up the stakes a little. Instead of two free ebooks, the winner can choose one of NRP's dead tree books - Death of a Musketeer, Impaler, Nocturnal Origins, Without a Trace, and The Calvanni. Is that sufficiently awesome to attract new entrants?
Don't make me go into the comments section with a non-entry example. Just don't. It's too scary to contemplate (Remember, I'm the woman responsible for Impaler, ConVent, AND the Knights in Tarnished Armor. This is not someone you want running around uncontrolled).
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17 comments:
CapClave is beginning to be awfully tempting. DC is far enough that I'd have to get a room rather than commute, but there are a LOT of folks I'd like the chance to talk to on the roster.
As to Amanda's challenge ... the word "glitter" wasn't a gauntlet thrown down, daring people to write New Age-y vampires, was it?
(smiling sweetly and backing away *quickly*) ...
In my multiverse-with-magic milleau, the God of Thieves has become the comedic relief. As soon as I saw the word "motley" . . . Curse you lot, almost 3K words and still going. Here's the start, cut down to 4K characters:
The God of Thieves plopped the crate down on the table. “Just a few knicknacks and these valuable guard dogs.”
Aunt Susto peeked over the edge and cackled. “Don’t try that on me, Kevi Boy. I weren’t born yesterday. Puppies ain’t worth anything, and those lazy o’dogs of yers . . . how’d you get stuck with t’puppies, all yer dogs are fellahs.”
Kevi sighed. “Lithium got into the magic potions, and drank a sex change spell.”
She cackled some more—her laugh was the only thing that hadn’t benefitted from the longevity and youthfulness spells—she still sounded old enough to be his grandmother.
Kevi reached into the box and pulled out a motley colored ball of fat and fur. “He, she, was impressively fecund. Eight weeks old. Weaned and ready to become a part of a new family. To protect them from anything and every thing. They’re Hell Hounds, you know.”
She cackled harder, and Kevi sighed as he put the pup back and wrapped a transdimensional bubble around the crate, making it disappear. Fifteen puppies. _Why Me?_
He stuck the bubble onto his shoulder for safe keeping and looked around Aunt Susto’s pawn shop. She wasn’t, thank the Old Gods, his aunt. The shop was as much a junk pile as always, but the junk did change, from visit to visit. “What are you doing with _those_ things?”
“Them’s called Cee Dees. Posh rich folk who can afford stuff from them parallelly places have these fancy cabinets all full of magical sort of stuff, and if you put one of these in it, it plays music and even makes pictures and tells stories. At least that’s what Crimson said. And Erica came and looked at them but she said they were from some other parallelly and wouldn’t play on her cabinet.” Her eyes glittered as she looked him over. “Have you got a magic cabinet? I kin cut ya a good deal on ‘em.”
Kevi shuddered. He always came here last, to dump the residue of one theft or another. She always cut him a good deal, that is to say, talked her sister-in-law across the street into feeding him. He never rode out of here with more money than he’d brought, which was why he never brought money here any more. It just wasn’t right. He was the God of Thieves. Robin Hood, Black Bart, The Gentleman Bandit, The Saint. A sleezy, illiterate, and not terribly bright junk shop owner should not get the best of him. Over and over.
“No thanks, I’ve got to get going.” He reached down and hefted the saddle bags at his feet.
“Oh, say, I dent even have a look at what ya brought, other’n those pesky pups. My manners is slipping badly. Whatcha got?”
He pulled out the last of the swag from robbing the office of a very corrupt President of a world fortunately very far removed from here. While Susto pawed through the trinkets, Kevi prowled the shop. A long metal plate caught his eye. He dragged it out into the light and dusted it off.
“Sold that to the smith.” Susto sighed. “He brung it back, said he couldn’t so much as bend it.”
It was eight feet long, a foot wide and a few inches deep. Kevi bit his lip. High tech, carbon fiber and metallic silica. Probably stuffed with electronics. He’d heard of something like this. Heard it described. Was not about to tell Aunt Susto what he thought it was. “I suppose it’d make a good bridge over a creek or something. Too bad it isn’t a bit wider. No use for a horse or cow.” _Speaking of bridges, if I knew how to turn it on, the Oners could pick up the magnetic signal and open a gate to their world. I ought to get this out of here, before someone accidentally triggers it._
Anyone going to Reno for WorldCon this year? I enjoyed AussieCon last year and am umming and ahhing about taking some of my hols then and flying over.
Discworld Con! Soooo jealous!
Steven Chapman (writer)
Whoohoo, Kate. Wishing you all the best with The Impaler.
Hmmm, that does sound a little weird!
Happy Easter!
(Speaking of Fecundity, aren't half the symbols of Easter come from Pagan fertility rites, scooped up and added to early Christian celebrations?) Maybe you guys should go Furry for the day and write Easter Bunny stories.
Pam (at the risk of skirting things which might be construes as "ploitical", by some ...) Yes. There is a traditioanl Germannic/Celtic Pagan holiday called "Ostara", the second of the three spring fertility sabbats. (The others being Imbolc [Groundhog's Day] and Beltane [May Day].) Ostara is the full moon immediately following the vernal equinox (cf Easter's scheduling mechanism), and is exemplified by a feast and the display of various fertility symbols. Notably grass, eggs, and bunnies. The Holy Roman Empire found it easier to entice the natives into the pews through assimilation rather than trying to force them to abandon their lifelong beliefs outright.
While wandering Amazon, I happened to notice Impaler was not yet available to preorder in PB. I;m guessing this will change?
O'Mike, unfortunately we aren't able to do pre-orders via Amazon yet for the dead tree versions. Hopefully, that will change once we have a track record with print versions. Right now, it looks like Impaler will be available in print in about three weeks on Amazon.
Stephen,
I still need to email them and volunteer myself for programming.
As for "glitter", well... this says it all.
Brendan,
Alas, no. My budget - and perhaps more to the point my tolerance for nit-picking stupid bureaucracy - doesn't extend past one fly-to convention a year. This year, it's Discworld.
Steven,
I was at the first US Discworld Con and loved it. Fan squee demands I go to as many as I can get to.
I believe they're planning to do this every second year, so maybe in 2013?
Rowena,
Thanks - and yeah, it does sound kind of odd. Almost like the fond thoughts I occasionally entertain about certain co-workers... Er. Let's not go there. It upsets people.
Matapam, Stephen,
I had thought it was common knowledge that all the major Christian festivals coincide with and co-opted key elements from various pagan festivals. It's a lot easier to convince people they're worshiping the same deity as you by telling them "Oh, yes, she's one of our saints" or whatever.
OMike, Amanda,
It only feels glacial.
Amanda & Kate,
Thanks.
Soon hopefully,
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