Cherie Priest's Blog: It's awards season, so here comes the shameless self-promotion, page 37

Lead me to war with your brilliant direction

Holy crap, you guys - it's been a week. First of all, our mystery guest of awesomeness came to visit for a few days, wherein he performed MANY SNUGGLES upon both Greyson and Spain the Cat ... and altogether we went to the Writing Excuses retreat - not because we were proper attendees, but because we were in the neighborhood. We did BBQ and podcasts, and shenanigans occurred. A marvelous good time was had by all!

Shortly after our mystery guest departed (within hours, actually) ... we had new guests! My dad and stepmom appeared, along with Duke and Daisy - their recent adoptees from the Dane Crazy Great Dane Rescue outside Nashville. Really, you guys. Four adults, three dogs (the smallest of whom was 85 pounds), and a very pissy cat in a folk Victorian bungalow for a few days. IT WAS AWESOME.

And even if Big G hadn't recently been clipped for summer, he still would've looked like the teeny baby of the bunch.



Daisy is a slender young lady about Greyson's age, underweight in the wake of a bad abandonment situation ... but they've put a good 25 pounds on her, and they're stuffing her full of fancy kibble and cookies to bring her up to speed. Duke is 5 years old and 130 pounds, every ounce a gentleman. He was surrendered when a family lost its home, and at his age, he was difficult to place ... despite his awesomely easy-going disposition, slow and gentle demeanor, and tendency to sit on your lap, just because he's feeling cuddly.



[Note regarding that pic: I am 5 ft. 5 inches tall, and weigh somewhat less than 130 pounds.]

Anyway, as mentioned previously, it turns out that my dad and stepmom are kind of big fat suckers. Which has worked out very well for these two newly spoiled pooches - much to Big G's personal delight. Daisy was a playmate he could spar and wrestle with, and Duke was a freelance nuzzler with a cinder-block-sized head to deliver kisses on demand. Besides: BONUS DOG GRANDPARENTS. Seriously. Best dog week EVER.

But the week got a little weird when we loaded up the dogs and trekked them out to a big old cemetery for a happy-go-lucky big dog walk ... for we soon learned we were not precisely alone. No, not ghosts. CATS.

Out from the woods sprang two tiny kittens - who pounced upon the dogs as if they could eat them (and had EVERY INTENTION of doing so).

The dogs are all wildly pro-cat, thank God; and the kittens received no damage apart from a serious drool-spa combined with an excessive tongue-bath. And then, because I also am a big fat sucker (it runs in the family), I scored a box and stuffed the kittens thereunto. There was exactly zero chance that I could hang onto the little stinkers, given our overstuffed household situation (never mind our cat-hating elderly feline matriarch); but I knew a safe place where I could take them.*



The little black one with the teeny white paws is a hellion. I drove all the way to the shelter with the box fastened shut, my heavy ol' purse sitting atop the box, the seatbelt strapping the whole thing shut, and one hand holding the lid secure ... and he(she?) STILL managed to repeatedly get a paw through the cracks in order to flip me the bird.

Both kittens are hella-sweet, VERY dog friendly (I was joking, above), and happy to be held, cuddled, and cooed at. The black one (who I've dubbed "Killer") just took offense at being stuffed into a box, that's all. His(her?) sibling, the stripey little "Spook" was the adventurer of the pair - the first one to accost the dogs and to accept the subsequent damp snorgling that ensued. Killer was somewhat more dubious, but still willing to fling him(her)self into the mix in case backup was required.

You guys, I SERIOUSLY, and furthermore DESPERATELY want someone to adopt these two. I'm reasonably confident that they were dumped, as they're about 6-8 weeks old, very healthy, all alone, and we have NEVER seen or heard kittens in the cemetery despite daily walks there with Big G. This is, by the way, the cemetery in which my husband took the baby fox picture - so we know good and well that there is a robust community of predators lurking about the city of the dead. These babies hadn't been there long; they were VOCAL and hungry...yet fiercely lovable.

They are not feral.
They are comfortable with people - nay, pitifully desperate for people. They came to me when I called them, literally running into my hands.

If you are in the Chattanooga area - and/or might be willing to drive there - and you'd be interested in adopting these two ridiculous cutie-pies ... please contact the McKamey Animal Center at (423) 305-6500 and ask about the cemetery kittens admitted there by yours truly. They have plenty of paperwork from me under yes, this name [points at the URL] because it is my real name; I had to fill out a bunch of stuff to surrender them, and I felt awful about it the whole time.

But it was better than leaving them for fox chow. In the rain. Did I mention it was raining? WHO THE HELL DUMPS KITTENS in the CEMETERY in the goddamn RAIN??? I don't even want to know.

So. Yes. Please consider adopting, and please spay and neuter, and please make room in your hearts and your homes if you can.
McKamey Animal Center
4500 North Access Rd.
Chattanooga, TN 37415

(423) 305-6500

* Not the shelter from whence we acquired Greyson and Spainy - but that one is always, ALWAYS full. When they have openings, they cull critters from shelters like McKamey. McKamey IS a kill shelter and I hate that, but their kill rate is low, and they perform a major amount of adoption-driving and fund-raising to spay and neuter throughout the land. The shelter manager lives in my neighborhood, and he's been very helpful with regards to rescue, sterilization, and rehoming of stray and unwanted critters. It's a good place to take vulnerable kittens, but it's not without its risks, and I very much would like to see them elsewhere.

When I've got nothing but my aching soul

I am hella-crappy at taking breaks, just so you know. After hitting that Draft Zero marker on Maplecroft, I firmly resolved to take some time off - just a week or two - and not do any writing on anything, even though I have two other projects on deck (due before February of next year).

Maplecroft is the biggest of the three, from a scope and length standpoint; it's a full-length adult novel, and the other two are shorter projects, one young adult and one novella, respectively. So that's one big-ass hurdle out of my way. But it's also very, very different in tone and structure from these other two books, and I need a good palate cleanser before I just leap into the next thing.

Except ... I am no good at palate cleansers. I don't do a lot of short material, and I don't have any proposals or fiddly-things on tap, so I've basically just been going stir-crazy. I've done a lot of yardwork. Some shopping. Some reading. And a lot of pacing around the house, hunting for the next idea to develop ... not the next thing I might work on, but a Next Thing to kick around in the background.

So far, I've got nothing. That'll change, I know - but for now, it's a source of aggravation. I've started poking the young adult project with a stick, knowing that it's best if I let it lie for a while ... and I'll probably start writing on it again by the end of the week.

Or maybe not. Because ... I have guests coming this weekend! Or a guest, anyway - and I'll leave that guest's identity off the table for the moment, unless he/she feels compelled to out him/herself. Then, after that guest has returned home on Sunday, my dad and stepmom are coming to visit! And they're bringing their new family additions - the pair of Great Danes they picked up from a rescue in northern Tennessee a month or so ago.

Greyson doesn't know yet it, but he is hella pumped for all the visitors. And so am I, obviously.

Besides the fact that it's nice to see the guest in question, never mind the 'rents - and it'll be cool to meet the dogs ... we're always happy for Big G to have larger, older dogs around to teach him social etiquette. At his size he doesn't get bossed around much, which sometimes makes him bratty - and besides, he's shaken off some of his early anxiety behaviors by watching other dogs behave normally. We're hoping the Danes can help him overcome some of his horror with regards to riding in cars. God knows nothing else is working.

Anyway. Except for the impending guest arrivals there's not much going on over here. Aside from anticipating the extra folks ... I predict that this week I'll do some more reading and yardwork, and some more swearing, and yet further wandering around the house. If things really get wild, we might paint the restored trim around the garage doors (main and rear entrance).

It's a thrill-a-minute over here, you guys. Don't let anyone tell you different.

Maplecroft: Draft Zero

Here’s recent progress on my fin de siecle gothic epistolary about Lizzie Borden fighting Cthulhu with her trusty axe, now with Bonus! ghosts, guilt, arcane science, and an accidental villain who's losing his mind and his humanity in tandem:
Project: Maplecroft
Deadline: October 15, 2013
New words written: 8737
Present total word count: 112,080 words



Things accomplished in fiction: Draft. Zero. Y'all. The end is a little fiddly, but it's whole.

Next up: I'll polish up that bad-boy until it shines...but not yet. I'm too close to it. I need to take a step back, work on other things for a few weeks (or months, I don't know - I have time, thank God) ... and then go back to it with a clearer head.

Things accomplished in real life: Daily jaunts around the neighborhood with the dog; lots of yardwork; got more work done on the house's exterior and now we're watertight, baby; grocery shopping; ran to the post office; ran to the bank twice; cleaned house a time or two; went back and forth with the historic zoning office; returned yet another lost dog to his appropriate yard; did two phone interviews; did a bunch of paperwork; paid a bunch of bills; went to the pet store to stock up on food/toys/treats; and you know what? I can't even remember what all else has gone down in the last week.

Other: If you're keen on such things, you can read my zombie western vignette "Reluctance," which has been reprinted (and is free for the reading) over at Apex Magazine. There's also an interview with yours truly over there - go check it out.

Bonus! other: Finally cracked 100k words for the year. I'm a bit behind my goal of averaging 1k per day, but right now, I'm at peace with that. And now I'm going to go be at peace with a snack, a drink, and maybe an afternoon nap. I do believe I've earned it.

Number of fiction words so far this year: 107,906

How can you say, I go about things the wrong way

I am back from Phoenix! It was wonderful, seriously - it's absolutely one of the best conventions I've ever had the privilege of attending (as a guest or otherwise); but it was also exhausting, in every possible way. Tally it up, y'all: approximately one million fabulous friends, 12-hours a day on a concrete floor, plenty of paneling, lots of signing, no small amount of shopping, a three hour time zone shift, and a full day of travel at the start and end.

It was glorious, though. I met some amazing readers, got to touch base with a number of distant chums (if all too briefly, at times), and many shenanigans did occur with Team Capybara. But you know that already - if you kept up with the tweets. Or perhaps the pictures. GLORIOUS, I say.

Right. So.

In short, I'm still playing catch-up from those four days out of town. It is positively amazing how much can back up to surprise you, even over a holiday weekend - I swear to God.

I spent half of yesterday answering email, and the other half running errands - I went to the post office, the bank, the grocery store, Ace, and Walgreens. Today wasn't much different, except I did less running around; mostly I did load after load of laundry, unpacked All The Things, and began the task of restoring the yard. Because if you think that less than a week in late spring in the south cannot send a yard straight to hell, then you have another thing coming.

To be fair, the husband mowed the grass - and the rest had been allowed to "go" a bit before my travel ... but everything needed a good watering, many things needed a major pruning, the hedge needs a serious trimming, and the weeds were starting to organize into crabby little nation-states.

Okay, most of that stuff still needs to be tackled in earnest; but I got a serious start on about half of it, and then it was time for me to lie down inside and close my eyes. It was 90 degrees out there, and I am only human. Or somewhat less than that, after carrying around bags of mulch and toting loppers and food and insecticide and running the wheelbarrow up and down the hills and dragging the garden hose in a number of directions. By the time I'd done all that, I was more drippy-faced sweat-monster than woman.

Oof.

Anyway. I think all the birds are fledged and gone. I will wait another day or two before tossing out the (now very very dead) flower basket, just to be sure. The roses got chewed on by something, but I've cut them back and corrected the problem. I got lunch with my husband. I did some bits of assorted housework apart from the laundry. I walked the dog, and let him smooch all over a few (wildly delighted) kids and a very nice lady who was working on her garden. I went back to Walgreens to pick up a prescription and a shower cap because my old one developed a crazypants case of smelly-ass mold while I was out. (I am kind of confused about that.)

In other news, my dad and stepmom adopted two Great Danes while I was gone - via a rescue agency near Nashville - and I am happy for them ... both the dogs and the dad/stepmom, whose Dane passed away a few years ago at the ripe old age of twelve. I am led to understand they went there to adopt ONE dog. I am also led to understand that my dad is a big fat sucker. Yes, well. The record will reflect that it runs in the family.

Greyson will be THRILLED to meet the new guys, and I can't wait to make it happen. Maybe later this summer.

At any rate, this brings us all up to date on all the exciting adventure-type things ... so I'm going to log off, finish the dishes, put away supper leftovers, and maybe get to work on some of that writing business that hasn't happened in a week, now. Much to my chagrin. Have a good foreshortened week, everyone - and please forgive me if I'm a little absent from the 'net for the next couple of days. I might try to wrap up that draft of Maplecroft before it's out.

Phoenix or Bust!

Tomorrow morning, bright and early, I'm heading out for Phoenix Comic Con! And though the trip itself will be long and boring, the weekend promises to be a blast. So come out and see me! Here's my schedule.

Also, here's my Twitter feed. I link it here, because the odds are very high that I won't be doing any blogging - just snapping selfies and other assorted shenanigans, and uploading it all for your amusement.

So! Tune in, show up, be amused. That's my suggestion.
And for now ... I'm outta here!

[:: zoosh ::]

Nonsense has a welcome ring

No word metrics today. I slept badly and woke up late, ending up with just barely enough time to walk the dog before spending the middle of the day getting my hair done. Then I came home and did some housework, took a short nap, managed some email and some business stuff, and made a phone call about getting more work done on the house.

Long story short, when all the extra layers of shingles were pulled away for the roof work, rotting trim and siding were revealed around the attic windows. No water is getting inside or anything, and really, it's to be expected; the house is over a hundred years old, and this looks like original material. It wasn't managed well over the years, and it should've been removed/restored with the rest of the exterior restoration before we moved in, but I will save that rant.

I resolve instead to quit being aggravated at the half-ass repairs and dumbass remodeling performed on this place over the years, and instead I shall be pleased that THIS MUCH, at least, will be done correctly - and by professionals this time, goddammit.

Anyway. Dude will be here tomorrow to give us a quote. Let's knock this out while we can afford to, and then not worry about it anymore - that's what I say.

In other news, this afternoon a freaked-out skittering noise gave me a heart attack, for it was coming from our living room fireplace. At first I figured, "Squirrel." Then maybe, when I thought I heard feathers ... "Baby bird." We have had chimney swifts in the past, and 'tis the season, eh? Maybe some tiny not-quite-a-fledgling fell from a nest.

I summoned the husband. We conferred. We booted the dog out into the back yard, made sure the cat was secure in the back room, found a stray pillowcase, and counted to three before removing the cast-iron summer cover.

At first we saw nothing but darkness and old soot. Then a pair of small, panicky eyes looked up from the gloom beneath the old coal basket.* I almost had time to get, "Awwwww!" out of my mouth, but then the tiny jerk made a beeline for my forehead.

It was indeed a chimney swift. Juvenile, and fledged - barely. Freaked out of its wee birdie mind. It bypassed the pillowcase entirely and bolted for the nearest window, where it left a sooty bird-print. Unharmed and undaunted, it set off around the house, leaving bird-prints all over the ceiling and walls until we finally managed to get the front door open and usher it back outside.

Godspeed, you fluffy little bastard.

(Last I saw, it was sitting on roof across the street, so I choose to believe that all is well, and our brief guest will live happily ever after.)

And that's all I've got today.

Tomorrow: Laundry, packing, printing up useful documents and instructions, and running last-minute errands. (I mean, in addition to the construction dude's visit.) I'll be gone from Thursday morning to Monday evening, and while I'm there you can find me at the following locations and times.

All the usual rules apply - come up and introduce yourself, say hello, hand me stuff to sign ... I'm happy to be of service! Just as long as I'm not eating, drinking, or in the bathroom. If you catch me running to or from a panel, you may have to run alongside me - but you're welcome to do so.

And now. Deep breath. Maybe a drink. Must settle in and let my heart calm down from the Surprise! baby bird incident. Good evening, everyone. Thanks for reading, and be well.


* It's a very narrow, long chimney - a set-up for burning coal, not wood. An adult bird might be able to navigate back out again, but not a baby.

I may be mad I may be blind I may be viciously unkind

Here’s recent progress on my fin de siecle gothic epistolary about Lizzie Borden fighting Cthulhu with her trusty axe, now with Bonus! ghosts, guilt, arcane science, and an accidental villain who's losing his mind and his humanity in tandem:
Project: Maplecroft
Deadline: October 15, 2013
New words written: 4648 (multi-day total)
Present total word count: 103,343 words



Things accomplished in fiction: Probably best if I leave off with these, at this point. Even the vague stuff could point to spoilers.

Next up: More cryptic shenanigans.

Things accomplished in real life: Daily jaunts around the neighborhood with the dog; did some pre-travel shopping; went to an anti-fracking fundraising concert at Rhythm and Brews; went to a friend's birthday party at the Honest Pint; left the birthday party with a bruised up butt and back from the wood stools and the banister I leaned against all evening; returned a loose dog to its owner (for the second time - same dog); got caught in two thunderstorms and spent most of Sunday soaking wet but not in a good way.

Other: If you haven't checked out The Button Man and the Murder Tree at Tor.com, what are you waiting for?

Bonus! other: This coming weekend I'll be at Phoenix Comic Con! And I, for one, cannot wait - but I also (probably) will not be able to wrap up a draft of Maplecroft before that occurs. I wanted to, but...I suspect that's not in the cards. That's okay. I have plenty of time, and when I get back ... THAT WEEK. That week I shall cough up the Draft Zero I so dearly want. I bet.

Number of fiction words so far this year: 99,169

After the war we said we'd fight together

Here’s today's progress on my fin de siecle gothic epistolary about Lizzie Borden fighting Cthulhu with her trusty axe, now with Bonus! ghosts, guilt, arcane science, and an accidental villain who's losing his mind and his humanity in tandem:
Project: Maplecroft
Deadline: October 15, 2013
New words written: 1700
Present total word count: 98,659 words



Things accomplished in fiction: Reassessment of the situation. Change in strategy before it's too late. In case it's not too late.

Next up: A science experiment.

Things accomplished in real life: Daily jaunt around the neighborhood with the dog; hosted a mini dog-park party in my yard (w/Jolly and a new adoptee named "Ian"); minimal yardwork (still watering down all the new stuff); exchanged some useful emails with important people; cooked lunch and then supper; crashed because I'm exhausted today.

Other: As previously mentioned - The Button Man and the Murder Tree is live at Tor.com and free for the reading! Click! Read! Get your killer mutant noir on!

Number of fiction words so far this year: 94,521

The Button Man and the Murder Tree (Chicago, 1971)

Ladies, gents, and the otherwise affiliated - over at Tor.com you will now find my short story The Button Man and the Murder Tree , a Wild Cards project that I've been keeping under my hat for a few months. Free for the reading!

It's a story about a fellow I introduced in Fort Freak - Raul Esposito ... back when he was a button man for the mob in Chicago, and long before he became a genteel (if somewhat creepy) restaurateur in NYC. Raul's in a race against time, the mafia, and his own body. One of them will betray him before the week is out.

As a bonus, this story is accompanied by some truly kickass art by the inimitable John Picacio, so you should seriously click through just to get a look at THAT. Even if you're not so sure about a joker hit man with an awkward case and a hard-to-hide secret that could get him killed.

SO. Kindly go give it a read! Dip a toe into the Wild Cards universe. I hope you enjoy what you find.

The girl with the curls and the sweet pink ribbon in her hair

Here’s recent progress on my fin de siecle gothic epistolary about Lizzie Borden fighting Cthulhu with her trusty axe, now with Bonus! ghosts, guilt, arcane science, and an accidental villain who's losing his mind and his humanity in tandem:
Project: Maplecroft
Deadline: October 15, 2013
New words written: 2491 (meh for a multi-day total)
Present total word count: 96,959 words



Things accomplished in fiction: A swim, a swear, and a lungful of air.

Next up: A crash course in talking to homicidal maniacs.

Things accomplished in real life: Daily jaunt around the neighborhood with the dog; paid several visits to our neighbors' batch of 5-week-old puppies; did a whole lotta yardwork; made a few shopping trips for various assorted sundries; made a few lunch breaks; took a little downtime, but only a little.

Other: Finally got the go-ahead to announce the ROGUES anthology! I mean, I'm IN it. I'm not the person in charge of it or anything - that's GRRM and Gardner Dozois. And holy crap, you guys - click the link and go check out the table of contents. I am in some magnificent company on this one.

Bonus! other: BBC Radio 4 is very kind to my Clockwork Century books. I am told that the relevant section starts at 12:12 - with me-specific material cropping up around the 18-minute mark. Huzzah!

House other: Because I promised to make note of this here,these are the folks who did our roof rebuild: Sprout Roofing. Again, I'm very happy with the job they did; and I'm planning to use them in the near future, to handle some siding and trim repairs. (As you can see at the link, they do more than just roofs.) Two thumbs up!

Et cetera: Let's see if I can get Maplecroft wrapped up in Draft Zero form before Phoenix Comic Con, in another week and a half. Maybe? I think it's doable, but we'll see. The best laid plans, yada yada yada.

Number of fiction words so far this year: 92,821