Cherie Priest's Blog: It's awards season, so here comes the shameless self-promotion, page 56

Practice Safe Writing

OMG YOU GUYS LOOKIT WHAT I GOT.

The husband had it special ordered/customized (yes it's a real bulletproof vest) for Christmas, but it was delayed a bit and it finally arrived and you had better bet your sweet patootie that I will wear the ever-living CRAP out of this thing.

Not just to sci-fi conventions OH HELLS NO. I will bust out this bad-boy for DOCTORS APPOINTMENTS and HOUSEWORK. For that matter ARE ANY OF MY FRIENDS GETTING MARRIED SOON?

Oh my God, PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT'S HOLY, SOMEONE CALL ME UP FOR JURY DUTY.

The Aftermath

So the weather drama is over, to be replaced with the usual mess ... which is to say, it's dark and cold and wet, but at least we can get our car out of the garage again.

Not that I've been going very far, very much. Not lately. I'm still eyeballs deep in Inexplicables revisions, and that means I'm mostly staying inside - even when going outside is an appealing option.

But today the husband and I got out long enough to grab lunch, get (him) a haircut, and make a Target run for household essentials. Mundane, yes. But I did get out of the house.

* * * * *
When I'm not frantically wrestling with this hideously broken draft,* I catch up on TV. Because I have nothing better to blog about - and because a positively weird number of people seem interested in this, I suppose I'll natter on about it for a few minutes.

Here goes.

Most of my televised interests are none too high-brow; I ain't gonna lie to you. Tonight, for example, I will sit around with a glass of wine (for I am out of rum) and watch America's Funniest Videos. Sometimes you just have to shut off your brain and let it reboot.

Then I'll stick around for Once Upon A Time which is, to be perfectly frank, also not very good - but it hops up and down on my deep-seated love of the froofy and gothic. It's a little soapy, and a lot ridiculous ... but I sure do love the wicked queen's fashion sense.

And I love Rumpelstiltskin too, but only when he's in slick, modern, evil "Mr. Gold" guise. (I like my evil in a suit, I do.) Actually, you know what? That's not fair. I'll file him as Chaotic Neutral for now. The question of Mr. Gold's motives - and how much he knows about what's going on - is mostly what keeps me tuned in.

However, I am increasingly less tuned in to the other big fairy tale launch this season - Grimm. The core problem is that all the secondary characters are a lot more interesting than the eponymous protagonist; even when they're one-shots or hasty caricatures they've got more life than Grimm himself, bless his heart. Jesus, that guy. So goddamn earnest, and not even clever. Lawful Good has never looked so aggressive, yet bland.

Mind you, if this show were about Monroe, I'd have myself a new fandom. What's not to love about a redneck zen werewolf with a clock collection? He's darling, and the actor plays him with pitch perfection - as a fellow balancing at least three very different, mutually exclusive sets of impulses. Too bad Grimm is such a douche-canoe to him all the time, treating him like an Igor, or a second-rate Watson ... because Monroe is infinitely more competent than Grimm.

Has Grimm ever torn off a dude's arm and used it to defend himself? No, I would wager he has not. Point: Monroe.

Anyway, speaking of Watson and whatnot, yes, I've kept up with Sherlock. I had my reservations at first, but now I really do love it. Not in the same way I love anything mentioned above, of course; I don't want to watch Sherlock unless I'm really ready to pay attention, and it is a pleasure to pay attention to, start to finish. Even the somewhat weaker episodes are better than the vast majority of recent interpretations.

[As my husband said (upon leaving the theater after Game of Shadows) - Hollywood spends fifty skillion dollars to make one of these questionable, tarty Holmes flicks every few years ... and the BBC casually craps out gold three times a season. Hell to the yes.]

And yes, I have some thoughts about The Final Problem. I think I noticed many of the right things, but I'm not sure how to put these observations together to form a non-cheating theory just yet. (And I trust them not to cheat.) Maybe I'll never pull together the full picture on my own, but that's okay. Season three: Incoming.

And I am patient.
More or less.

Hmm. What else do I watch with any consistency? Castle, I suppose. Rarely profound, but always entertaining. Two thumbs up and a couple of toes. Someone get me a montage of Nathan Fillion biting the back of his hand. Make it happen. Stat.
* * * * *
Oh look at all those words I just typed when I should've been working on revisions. Eh. These things happen. Blogging looked easier than hardcore editorial work, and it's dark, and it's cold, and that wine is looking oh-so-tempting right about now.

I'm tired, that's all. But I only have another week or so before I wrap up this draft, hand it off, and then start something new. Much as I love this project - and I do - I'm looking forward to the change in creative scenery. You'd think this would motivate me to log off and be productive.

And come to think of it, you'd be correct.

Wait a minute. I've just discovered Animals Talking in All Caps. Shit, this is shaping up to be a long night.



* I'm half kidding. But it was pretty bad when I handed it in, and long may my editor's praises be sung - for lo, she did not send me a Bomb O'Gram in retaliation for the woefully, painfully inadequate draft I inflicted upon her. It's fixable, and I'm fixing it. But I might not be fixing it fast enough.

Weather Update

Well, the weather's been the big story for the last few days. As mentioned in the previous post, we got several inches of snow, which then washed away (more or less); but there's more coming tonight. Worse yet, the authorities say we can expect 6-10 inches in the wee hours of Wednesday morning, which should be ... interesting.*

But during the rainy hours today, the husband and I did yet more hunting and gathering, and all's well here on the hill. We're all settled in and ready for whatever comes next.


* If in fact it comes to pass. Weather prediction in this region is notoriously poor, and very often wrong.

Snow day!

For several hours snow billowed, swirled, and blinded everyone here on the hill ... and though at first it didn't do much dramatic sticking, it's settled in quite nicely now.

I'd say there's a good 2-3 inches worth of fluffy stuff to stomp through in one's stompy boots, should one have such things and feel like merrily bounding around as if one is five years old.

Of course, in the middle of the small blizzard I realized that I was perilously low on hot butter rum mix; and this being heaven-sent weather for hot butter rum, the situation needed fixing. So when the worst of the weather had calmed, I put on my stompy boots and headed for the grocery store - where the power was out, except for the registers. Looked rather like the apocalypse in there, I don't mind telling you.

I was half tempted to stock up on toilet paper and milk in case ... in case ... I don't know. In case we needed paper mache when the power goes out, I guess. But I restrained myself.

(Well, actually I did buy milk because we were almost out - plus my favorite hot butter rum mix, a couple of bottles of wine, some soup, and some peeled tomatoes my husband declared he needed for some reason or another. So I guess we're all set over here. I hope the rest of you locals are staying warm and dry, and for God's sake, staying off the roads.)

The Results Show

My day was loud and none too pretty, as you can gather from the picture accompanying this post.

The cat was deeply traumatized, the fish thought he'd gone blind (we bundled his tank and kept the heater on it), and it still stinks of paint and moldering wood up in here.

But the worst of it is over.

And to those of you who thought yesterday, "Surely mildew and mold can't actually penetrate walls and leave a stain of the old beadboard pattern ..." I invite you to peer closely at this picture. Take note of the ceiling, in particular. I'd like to say that it's exactly as disgusting as it looks, but the truth is, it's even grosser than that.

Anyway, we have new windows.

And like I said, we needed new windows, so this is good ... even if it means that I lost one whole work day to the uproar - and I'll be listening to the dulcet strains of remodeling in the rest of the building for the next couple of weeks.

A number of people have demanded to know when our lease is up, and why we continue to live here with the construction noise and maintenance mess - and the fact is, we have our reasons. We also have tentative plans to vacate these-here premises sometime in the spring, when the weather's not quite such a bear.

For right now, I have tentative plans to finish restoring order to my poor, upended household. It'll be another hour or so of sorting, shuffling, dusting, and whatnot - so I'd better get to it, before this headache floors me for the night.

Keep Calm and Carry On

The windows are going in at a pretty good clip, all things considered. But it's loud, it's cold, and I've got an aquarium to protect and a cat with a death grip on the underside of the bed. And once these guys are gone, it'll still take a couple of hours to put the place back together and clean up the wreckage.

Anyway. If I'm very, very lucky, this might only be one day out of my life. And my cat won't fling herself out the window when they come to take care of the bedroom.

Windows and Whatnot

Because I'm inordinately lucky, and construction projects follow me everywhere ... tomorrow we're getting new windows. Yes, that's right - we'll be the first apartment to receive this treatment, and it's all I can do to keep from screaming.

But it's not the building manager's fault, and it's not the installers' fault. And, to be frank, we do desperately need new windows.

This place has needed new windows for decades, if not longer; it's a historic building coasting on its original single-panes, and they're awful. I'll be glad to see them go. Every week, I burn through a roll of paper towels (give or take) and a healthy dose of bleach solution, removing the black/green muck that grows ever-so-happily upon these damn windows.

Except.

I work from home, and I'm in the middle of an absolutely horrifying deadline - rewriting a book that was badly broken and unfinished when I handed it in. It's an utter mess, and I'm trying to fix it - but it was due weeks ago, and if I can't hand in something markedly better by the end of this month, I will be causing problems for people everywhere and shooting my own fool self in the foot while I'm at it.

So I want you to guess how much work I can expect to get done when strange men are stomping through my frigid, temporarily open-air office for the next two days. No, I can't leave. I have a dumb (if darling) cat to keep out from underfoot, and literally no room without windows in which I can shut her; I also have a small aquarium that must maintain some measure of climate control, so that'll be a fun trick here in January, but whatever. I'll do my best.

No, this is not a catastrophic interruption. Yes, it's only a couple of days. But when you're running this far behind, a couple of days feels like an epoch.

I'm just pissed, that's all. I'm pissed, and I'm sick of it.

My original fondness for this building has been steadily eroded, and now I can hardly stand to be home, some days. The construction that surrounds us, day in and day out ... the constant maintenance issues ... the damp ... mold (dear GOD the mold) ...

And yes, I know that new windows will mitigate some of these things, but it's really too late. The mold eats into our apartment not merely through the constant mutant muck colonies on the wet windows, but through the walls and ceiling. Seriously, you should see our living room. Over the last year, the mold/damp has stained the old beadboard pattern right into the paint. It's disgusting, there's nothing I can do about it, and new windows aren't going to fix it.

This place is a permanent assault on my allergies, my dignity, and my sanity. In the words of the immortal Charlie Brown: I just can't stand it.

January 9, 2012

Today was my first full business day of the year (for which I am home, anyway), and you know what that means - business. Lots of it.

At the risk of boring you with a list: I did my daily run/climb which has been not so much "daily" as of late, I made a doctor's appointment (routine, no worries), wrangled several rounds of important paperwork, went to the bank, went to Walgreens for a prescription, did lots of laundry, scanned and signed and sent off some contracts for a convention, did many dishes/cleaned kitchen, went to the post office, paid my taxes, finished the last of my unpacking and decompressing from the out-of-town jaunt ... and then swung by the liquor store because if anyone ever deserved a nice hot butter rum tonight, that someone is me.

Now it's barely suppertime, and I'm already so tired I could crash into bed right this very moment. Not that I'll have the opportunity - because I need to settle in and work on Inexplicables revisions, for that's the one thing I haven't yet tackled today. And the clock is ticking on this one.

Back in the saddle

Back in Seattle, anyway.
Well. It kind of rhymes.

Yesterday, it took me almost thirteen hours to get from the eastern time zone back to the West Coast, which sucked. A flight was cancelled, a connection was missed; a flight was rebooked, and the rebooking was awkward. It's not a very interesting story.

Anyway. Today I'm wearing my jet lag like a cast-iron coat - but I can't just sack out on the couch and call it a weekend. Revisions on Inexplicables must wrap up by the end of the month (if not sooner), and I am about to be handed a fat stack of (unrelated) paperwork that can't wait. Never mind all the stuff that piled up while I was gone.

No rest for the wicked, etc.

But since it's been so long since last I posted, I wanted to reassure the world that I'm alive, and home, and quite glad to see that this whole 2012 thing is starting off so well. Potentially.

This first week has been a doozy, but things are looking bright and I'm feeling good. Let's hope this sets the tone for the for the year, eh?

2011

I think 2011 will go down in history as the year I bit off more than I could chew - some by happenstance, and some by opportunistic optimism. At least it's almost over now, and time for something new.

But first, a recap - with commentary.
Because I think that's what you're supposed to do in these year-end posts.

Book Work
This year I had four major projects drop: Bloodshot, Fort Freak, Ganymede, and Hellbent. To be clear, I did not write all four last year; publishing schedules are arcane cycles, that's all. And in fact, I did not write the entirety of Fort Freak - just the interstitial mystery.

Regardless, Fort Freak was single-handedly the greatest challenge and most work I'd ever undertaken at the time, and I'm glad it finally hit the streets. I am terribly proud of my contribution to that project, and absolutely honored/gobsmacked by the exceptional company I keep between those covers with George and the Wild Cards Consortium.

Day Job Work
For 2009-10, my writing work happened while day-jobbing for the marvelous folks at Subterranean Press, juggling a part-time gig which I valued mightily, under the direction of one of the finest gents I know.

But I left that gig rather abruptly at the end of March, in order to take what appeared to be a dream assignment with another company. I hated to go, but my Subterranean boss was kind, understanding, and (as is typical) quite awesome.

He sent me off with love.

Alas, I couldn't talk about the ensuing day job, and there's a chance I might never talk about it. That's how super-secret things go, sometimes.

These are the basic facts: It was a contract job. It ran from April, up until about a week ago.

The contract was the chance of a lifetime - and I'm both grateful for the opportunity, and glad I worked up the nerve to accept it. Now I can now cross it off my list of "things I want to do someday." That having been said, it is also off my list of "things I plan to do again."

And I think we'll leave it at that.

Travel
2011 held more travel than ever before. I met some amazing people, made new friends, saw new places, and got to play dress-up on someone else's dime. I have nothing to complain about, except a little sleep deprivation.

In 2011 I visited Detroit, Houston, Tucson, San Francisco (multiple times), Oklahoma City, Atlanta, Washington D.C., Phoenix, Portland (multiple times), San Diego, Memphis, St. Louis, Denver, and Boise. Never mind the half dozen (or more) events in the Seattle area, and the half dozen trips down to California for the super-secret day-job. And now I'm tired all over again, just thinking about it.

I am pretty sure, to deploy an overused soundbyte from the 80s, that I am getting too old for this shit.

Regardless of how much I enjoy it, I've tried to rein in some of this work-related travel for next year - having vowed to give myself some semblance of a break. But because I am bad at math, this means I'm still scheduled for one out-of-state event every month from January through June.

Eh. It beats doing up to four per month.

Big Business
And then there was the Boneshaker movie news.

For months, I'd been anxiously awaiting the go-ahead to share the press release - my first movie option, yay! - and then we'd all have a big giggle, and talk about how an option doesn't mean much, and how 99% of optioned properties never turn into movies.

Instead, I got this press release. And now we're having a different conversation entirely.

Sometimes I lie in bed at night, staring at the ceiling, not believing it. For someone who - barely two years ago - strongly considered changing her name to escape a dying career ... it feels like deus ex machina.

I don't know what it will mean for 2012. Not yet.

Next up
Next in the most immediate sense: First thing in the morning I'm flying out to take care of some personal business back east - so I'll ring in the new year like I spent so much of the old one: in a plane. But that's okay. I'll only be gone for a week, and it's good business - not bad business.

I'm looking forward to the trip.

And you know what? I'm looking forward to 2012, too. What few resolutions I have are largely private for now, but in general you can expect that I'll keep writing, and keep trying to sell books, and keep wondering about the movie, and keep drinking a little too much rum. That's a 2012 I can embrace.

Anyway
Thanks as always to all of you for following along with my weird, cryptic, dorky, frantic, boring, silly life. Thanks for swinging by. Thanks for reading.

Happy New Year!
May yours be everything you hope for, and then some.