Cherie Priest's Blog: It's awards season, so here comes the shameless self-promotion, page 55

Dallas gives me nosebleeds: A love song for Texas

Upon arriving in Dallas, I was greeted by a very nice, exceedingly helpful woman named Cindy - who (in the wake of some puppy-dog-eyed begging from yours truly) ran me by a Taco Bell on the way to the hotel. Long may this woman's praises be sung as a hero of the revolution! The weekend was off to a great start.*

Checking into the hotel was a bit of a hoot, though, as the hotel had decided to put me in a smoking room - and its managers would not be moved on this point. My initial reaction was, "Smoking rooms? Those still exist?" because I've spent the last six years in Seattle, where you're more welcome to lick your cat's ass at the dinner table than to spark up a cigarette within the city limits. Anyway, my second reaction was, "Eh. No big deal." And it wasn't.

Somewhat more disturbing: When I opened the door to the room, I was greeted by a truly astonishing blast of noise and light. Every single thing was turned on and turned up to "high" - including both televisions (it was a suite), all te lamps and overhead lights, the heater, the fan in the bathroom, and (I shit thee not) the clock radio.

My instinct was to go right back downstairs and request a room uncontaminated by poltergeists, thank you very much, but I steeled myself and warily went around turning things off. Once I was down to a couple of lamps and one TV, I was reasonably certain that I was alone and that this would be okay, so long as nothing spontaneously came to life again. (Nothing did.)

[Aside: Apparently, this was the hotel's default greeting for all incoming guests. It wasn't offensive or anything. We all had a laugh about it.]

[Aside, redux: I did get a nosebleed. Probably from the room's climate control, which was - shall we say - "overzealous."]

So. Yes. The convention itself. (Sorry, but the hotel thing really cracked me up, and I thought I'd share.) I won't give you a blow-by-blow, but I do want to call out a few marvelous folks: Thanks of course to Dan (con chair) for the invitation, the superlative organizational skills, and the ride to the airport; to Cindy for the Taco Bell and the ride from the airport, plus technical support during the weekend; to the adorable Patricia who kept me company for more than a couple of meals and drinks; and to all my fellow panelists and the wonderful fans who showed up with books.

Likewise, it was fantastic to finally meet in-person some women I've known only online - notably Stina Leicht and Dawn - both of whom I've known via LJ for lo, these many eons; plus the inimitable Rachel Caine and fellow agentee of Jennifer Jackson Martha Wells.

In short, I had a wonderful time and this was a fabulous smooth convention, which I would recommend to any and all guests, pros, or fans in the Dallas/Fort-Worth area. Or beyond. Thanks for having me, ConDFW, and bets wishes for all future events!


* It probably needs saying (so people don't think I'm being sarcastic): I love Taco Bell. LOVE IT. And I don't get it very often.

Next up: Dallas, Texas

Today the building's maintenance guy swung by with a dehumidifier, and we both had a little laugh about it - because shit, it's not like this is going to fix anything. As some of you may recall, for the last six months or so we've enjoyed a creeping horror seeping in through the ceiling and exterior walls; it manifests as oddly stained beadboard in the main living area, and as speckled studs in the bedroom.

We've had mold problems in our (100 yr. old) building before, but we actually think this particular issue might be soot from the newish baseboard heaters. Or perhaps it's soot combined with some moisture issues wicking in from the ceiling or walls, I don't know. Nobody knows. And at this point, it's really hard to care.

Before the chorus of OMG MOVE OUT OR YOU WILL BE DIE kicks up, let me say this: We are actually planning to relocate this spring, but we can't do it any sooner than the end of April or so. It's not a lease issue, it's a money and logistics issue. So kindly save yourself the keyboard pounding, and don't worry about us. We'll be fine for another few weeks - or if we're not, be sure to burn our corpses and dispose of the ashes as if they were toxic waste. It will probably be for the best.

As for the dehumidifier: (a). damn, it's loud, but (b). it kind of white-noises out the circular saws in operation 10 hours a day across the street as a set of truly ugly condos are erected. I am both idly annoyed, and pleasantly surprised.

Anyway.

Tomorrow I'm flying out for Dallas, Texas - to participate in the awesome ConDFW XI . I know I probably should've mentioned this sooner, but I didn't, and that was my bad, but I'm mentioning it now. So if you're in the DFW area, come on out and support a great event - brought to you by the Texas Speculative Fiction Association. Get your books signed, get your groove on, and come hang out in the bar between panels and shenanigans.

As always, if you want to come up and say "Hello," then by all means, do so. Unless I'm eating or sitting in the bathroom, you aren't interrupting anything. I attend these events for the specific purpose of being there to visit with you readers, so come on, don't be shy.

I'm not shy. Trust me on this.

I am so not-shy that there's a six-foot No Shyness Zone radiating around me pretty much all the time. Those of you who've met me at any assorted convention, signing, panel, bar, class, or workshop can attest to this. I have an LJ icon that says, "I will talk with anyone about anything." And buddy, it ain't for show.

So ... yes. I hope to see some of you there this weekend! Stay tuned to my twitter feed for updates and pics. I'll be back to regular blogging come Mondayish.

But she just drops her pearl-black eyes

Yesterday the husband and I RAN ALL THE ERRANDS. We also removed an entire stuffed SUV's worth of unwanted things from our living space - which was rather satisfying, I don't mind telling you. Bonus satisfaction: We managed to sell most of it.

We started with a jaunt down to Buffalo Exchange (a second-hand clothing store), where the husband dumped off an epic heaping pile of coats, jackets, and other assorted Items What Do Nothing But Take Up Space Since Nobody Ever Wears Them; and I in turn unloaded two full trash bags of the same. Then we went to Half Price Books and liberated ourselves of quite a few (I don't want to blow your mind, but) books. And CDs. In fact, the husband unloaded his entire CD collection, and has now gone digital. Hooray for fewer things to pack up next time we move.

And holy crap, y'all - we no longer have media crammed sideways onto shelves. And also, I can actually hang up my own damn coats in my own damn coat closet without using those dorky little extender thingies.

Plus: I am now about $140 richer, so put on your good wig, Margaret - we're goin' to the Sizzler!

Or not. Because we also went by the auto stereo place, in order to fulfill a promise we made to each other back before Christmas - that we'd replace the crappy factory original radio in our car. It's truly embarrassing. The LED display doesn't even work; you kind of have to guess what station you're listening to, what time it is, and what CD track is playing. (So there's that, I guess. It has a CD player. Fat lot of good it does us, since we now have approximately zero CDs.)

Anyway, we're using our thriftily gotten gains to replace it with something better for the sake of future road trips ... and also for the sake of fewer awkward conversations about the digital jumping beans that presently convey the station via cracked-out interpretive dance.

So that'll be nice.

Today has been much more sedate. I sat inside, exchanged a number of Important Emails, and actually started a short story that someone asked me for a few weeks ago. Will wonders never cease, yes, I know. But it's nice to be writing again, and not just editing or doing research. Honestly, I enjoy both of those things - but I hadn't actually composed anything new since December, and I was starting to get twitchy about it.

And now the husband is home from work, so the time has come to log off and talk about supper. Have a good night, everyone, and I'll try to be better about this blogging thing now that my schedule is beginning to unclench. Note use of word "try" and please don't hold me to it. I am, after all, still kind of sick.

Another Media Ramble

Or, as an alternate title, "This many things make a post." A rambly one, without any half-decent transitions between topics. But it's a weekend, and I have an hour to kill (for once) so hey. Post.

For starters, how about a little pimping? Here goes - real quick: The Con or Bust auction is sitting on three books from yours truly (kindly donated by Tor, as I couldn't scare them up in time) - Boneshaker, Dreadnought, and Ganymede. Go check 'em out, and bid. Support an excellent cause and, I should hope, pick up three books that won't make you want to poke your face with a stick.

So. Have at.

Next. Last week I made one of those, "What I've been watching while my brain recovers from deadline hell" entries and it proved rather comically popular, so what the heck, I'll give it another go.

Ahem.

Last night, the husband and I went to see The Woman in Black, and holy shit you guys, Hammer can set a tone. It was great to see a true Gothic story done so beautifully, so creepily, and so earnestly - and all in all, I enjoyed it quite a lot...though the longer I thought about it after the fact, the more I felt that the pacing of the mystery reveal was a little odd.

(Also, I kept wanting to yell at Daniel Radcliffe that he needed to ask some freaking questions, already ... rather than just assuming that turn-of-the-century rural English people were all quacking mad. I say that, but hell. For all I know, maybe they were.)

Regardless, WIB is chock full of outstanding visuals, and built with a fine-tuned sense of the slow-burn scare. I'm not going to lie to you - it gave me a very good feeling about this studio handling Boneshaker.

And now back to the smaller screen.

I didn't catch Grimm last night - see above re: going to a movie instead - but last week's episode was both the best and worst I'd seen yet. The first twenty minutes had some truly terrible dialogue ... the kind of dialogue that makes me want to throw shoes at our perfectly innocent television ... but then it picked up with the kind of fan service that actually made me laugh.

Someone, somewhere, went wandering around the internet and noticed that (a). Monroe is vastly more likable than the eponymous detective, and (b). people feel that Grimm is too much of a goddamn altar boy. In last week's episode, voila! We got both a Grimm/Monroe supper chat, ("What's my favorite color?"), and Grimm's first lie - even if it was by omission. ("You ... you killed him?") Better than nothing, but might be too little too late.

On a brighter note, the husband and I have recently - after copious suggestions from numerous friends - started watching Justified. I'm a little sorry it took us this long to get around to it, frankly - it has some of the best scripting I've seen on American television in awhile. Maybe I'm biased because I've lived in Kentucky, have family from Kentucky, and still have family in Kentucky ... but I'm always amazed when Hollywood manages to treat Appalachia with any degree of fairness, accuracy, or respect.

I'm not saying it's perfect, mind you. For one thing, Kentucky isn't actually, technically the south - and the show doesn't seem to notice. Still, it isn't lazy like that very often, especially once you get past the first few episodes.

(One major side-kudo I have to give Justified: All the secondary, just-passing-through characters are marvelously drawn. No one's a throw-away, and if you've spent any time in the region, pretty much everyone rings true. That's no mean feat.)

Also new in my queue, there's Alcatraz. I'm in love with the premise, if not the entirety of the execution; but I adore the cast and am willing to give it a bit of room to grow on me. The pilot was impressively tight, though it would've been a better sell if they'd given it two hours instead of just the one. I don't know. Maybe I'm wrong.

Speaking of 2-hour pilots, I caught The River and was ... mostly keen on it. Much like Alcatraz, I adore the set-up but I'm iffy on some of the production. Even so, I'm glad to see thoughtful suspense and horror finding its way to pop culture as of late, and I think this can be a good example of a traditional story told in a non-traditional manner. Let's see where it goes.

Hm. What else? Oh yeah - the vintage/retro/noir episode of Castle was ridiculously charming. Thank you, and please give me my Captain Obvious badge. I'll put it on my WRITER vest.

All right, folks. That's all I've got for now.

I'm a little sick, and getting sicker (of course! Because it's right before Valentine's Day!) and I think I'll settle in for the afternoon with a pile of books, a box of decongestants, and some notes. And maybe a nice, comforting glass of wine. Or two. Have a good one, and enjoy the rest of your weekends.

Rock and Roll Porn and a Motorbike

I'd like to pretend I'm taking a few days off, because Jesus, wouldn't that be nice? After all, I did hand in those revisions. And yes, well. But. Here in the real world, I'm spending this week playing catch-up on all the things I'd back-burnered over the last couple of months.

Since Monday morning I've done two interviews, one video chat, a dentist appointment, two trips to the post office with contracts/paperwork/important whatnots, a jaunt to the grocery store, a metric assload of laundry, two trips to the bank, one much-delayed hair appointment, and one ridiculous martini night with friends - so it's not 100% work/no play/Nicholson-with-an-axe time over here.

I promise.

I'm even watching a bit of TV. Might blather about it later on this week. Consider yourselves warned.

Rainy Days and Mondays

My fish died this morning, so the week is off to a less-than-ideal start.

Ziggy the Space Goblin, Betta of the Damned, came to us about six months ago with strange coloration and gimpy pectoral fins he couldn't straighten; he always looked like he was swimming around with his hands jammed into the pockets on a hoodie. I mean, if he had hands. Or wore hoodies. It's hard to describe. But he had a sweet face and a cheerful disposition, and he was always happy to see me - assuming I brought food and not a tank cleaning. (Every tank cleaning was cause for a Tiny Aquatic Drama Queen snit, I swear.)

He was my gimpy little fish, and I liked him a lot. I hate to see him go.

Anyway. I think that's going to be the last of my aquarium-keeping for awhile. Ziggy was piscine #4, and it feels a bit like a downward spiral. The first betta, Howard, lived about three years ... but the subsequent two (Merrimack [aka "Ginny"] and Tesla Rex) lived barely a year apiece. They're such lovely animals - so pretty, so personable; but when they begin to go downhill, it's hard to watch. There's virtually nothing you can do for them.

So ... yeah.

I've already talked to my friend Nova, who will take over the tank and all its accouterments before terribly long - because she wants to give betta fish a go, and I don't want to throw out all this perfectly good fish stuff.* But for me, for now, it ends here.

May Ziggy's digs one day become a happy home for some other small swimmer.


* And seriously, it's ridiculous how much stuff I have to go with a $4 fish. Tank, heater, food, water dechlorinator, aquarium salt, a whole vast assortment of holey rocks and resin figurines, etc. etc. etc. (And yes, I'm cleaning everything with a little bleach.) I always said it was like having a wet dollhouse, and I wasn't kidding.

Clementine Paperback

Ladies, gentlemen, and the otherwise affiliated ... it can finally be revealed: Yes, there is a trade paperback edition of Clementine! Or rather, there's about to be. No, I swear. It's true! You see, sometime later this month Subterranean Press will unveil a major revamp of its website - and in the wake of that launch, you'll be able to nab a copy of this slim steampunk adventure for your very own.

Seriously, I'm relieved. I get a lot of hate mail from people who want to beat me with a stick for pricing the Clementine hardback at such ridiculous levels ... which is a hoot, because I've done no such thing. My publisher did no such thing. The book sold out, that's all - and collectors be collectin'. There's jack squat I can do about it ...

... except badger my publisher for a cheaper, more plentiful paperback edition, yay!

So here's the deal - you can wait for the Subterranean launch and order from their website at that time, or you can essentially preorder over on Amazon.com via this link right here . And then be just a tad bit patient.

That, my friends, is all there is to it!

The Prodigal Blogger

Last night I finally sent off version 2.0 of Inexplicables, which means holy shit, look at this: A blog post! I've been more or less offline (save the occasional tweet) for the last week, making a fierce final push to clean up that story and hand it over to my impossibly patient editor Liz - and long may her praises be sung.

So now that's done, and I have a moment to breathe. Not a day, not an hour. But a moment, and I'll take it - thank you very much. Shorter projects have been queuing up while I wasn't looking, and a handful of smaller deadlines are looming in the next few months; but this is wholly manageable, and not nearly as much pressure as fixing something I broke last year.

I feel like now my New Year can begin ... now that I've gotten the last of the overdue 2011 business off my plate. I'm not playing catch-up anymore. Now I only have to keep my head above water. More or less.
* * * * * *

And now I will roundup some recent immodest links. As you do.
George R. R. Martin's Hugo recs - Because I have exactly zero shame, that's why. Also, he's brilliant - and you should listen to him. On all matters. Except possibly football. [:: ducks the inevitable GRRM-thrown shoe ::]

The Steampunk Scholar is here for your audio book needs - All of them. Forever. Seriously, it's one hell of a list - and my books make the cut, so *whew* for that...

Speaking of steampunk: This is "Steampunk Girl" - A fun song about a steampunk girl named Cherie who goes to school and writes a book. For the record, it's not about me ... but John is a friend, and we'd chatted about this ages ago. I'm just tickled that he finally put it out there.

Best Steampunk Stories reviews Boneshaker - I love it when people recommend this book as an intro to steampunk, mostly because so many people still insist that it isn't steampunk - what with it being set in America and all.

Tales to Tide You Over reviews it too - And I also love it when people talk about there being a "twist" at the end. I had no idea there was a twist at the end when I wrote it.

Chicks With Crossbows reviews Hellbent - CWC says I'm "urbane, sharp and downright brilliant," oh wait. No. They're talking about the protagonist. *sigh*

The incomparable Jess Nevins urges a steampunk rethink - A great piece by a dear friend who - full disclosure for the lazy clickers - quotes me a bit. But don't read the comments. Here there be nerdfights and woe. And possibly monsters.

Winding Down

My poor, battered, insufficiently good initial draft of Inexplicables is starting to shape up into something less appalling, which is good - considering it was due weeks ago, and it NEEDS to go by the end of the month. Plus or minus a day or two. I hope. *ahem*

I started by removing about 14,000 words (yes that's a lot shut up they were bad words moving right along), then I took my editor's notes to heart and filled in the holes/rearranged various assorted bits. The present incarnation of this thing is about 108,000 words, with another couple thousand to go. One more scene.

It's a pretty significant scene, and I'm not sure if I can or should start it tonight, as it's getting late and I'm sort of feeling the burn-out right now. But then again, the sooner I kill it, the sooner I can start back at the beginning - making sure that this whole thing hangs together and doesn't suck. (This will take me several days.)

I don't know. I'll make myself some supper and see how I feel about it tonight.

Anyway, now that there is a Dubstep Cat, I'm not sure reality even matters anymore.

Change of Plans

Word is starting to get around about World Steam Expo, a steampunk convention which is coming up in May. The nice folks over at WSE invited me to participate quite some time ago - last June, I think - and I was excited to attend, believe me. The Michigan fandom community has been exceptionally kind to me, and I'm always happy to visit when I can.

But something has come up, and as of this evening, I've reluctantly withdrawn from this event.

I feel particularly bad because my timing is terrible, since the promo push for that weekend is getting underway - but the organizers are being very understanding. The reasons for my change in plans are personal and I won't go into them here or now; suffice it to say that May of 2012 is shaping up to be very complicated, and I needed to prune the out-of-state travel.

I'm okay, and everything's all right. This is just a case of Regular Life throwing a monkey-wrench into my Travel/Fandom Life, that's all. And to be clear, this weekend is not "freed up," and I am not considering other events.

I am very sorry about this, and I apologize to any fans who were planning to catch me there - as well as the organizers and staff. Best of luck to everyone involved, and may the Expo live long and prosper. Perhaps I can make it in 2013.