On That Which Is Borked, and That Which Is Not Borked

So… turns out that the SQL database that the Fiction Store page is tied into is… kaput. Corrupt. Screwed up. Gone to that great cloud storage space in the sky.

And may have been for some time. SO… for now, I’ve taken the fiction store page down. You can still GET my fiction, but for now you’ll have to go to… Amazon. Maybe bn.com. And if there’s something that you see in one place that you don’t see in another, let me know with the contact form on this web page and I’m sure I can get it to you in some kind of format. None of it has DRM, anyway, so it should be trivially easy to move it to or from kindle-compatible formats to every-other-ereader-on-the-planet-including-iDevices format. (Pssst… Amazon…? EPUB. Just sayin’.)

Meanwhile, I’ve been contemplating moving to a new host, and actually moving off WordPress altogether. I have a few weeks to pull the trigger on that, and haven’t actually made up my mind to do it yet. While I have stepped away from the management of Flying Island Press, their website is still a part of the same hosting account as this blog, and I can’t trip them up.

Meanwhile, in NON-borked stuff news, I finally finished the Way of the Gun story that I promised Scott Roche. There will be much editing, no doubt, but the thing is out the door and out of my brain. Thank goodness. Which leaves room for other things.

Like the Battlehymn sequel I started last year and need to finish. And like the Aethelian Age book I started in the back half of last year. And like an earlier Unnamed Space Opera book that I did a few years ago and suddenly have the hankering to edit into something I can feel halfway decent about unleashing upon the world. (For those who may be curious, it’s a world and characters I used in the short story “The Assignment”, in a headspace folder I’m currently referring to as Prodigals.)

So, no lack for projects there. What I need now is a little more diligence. And fewer kittens. Seriously. We took in a stray a few months ago, and she turned out to be pregnant. Now we have four kittens. Three have designated homes. No one is in a hurry to take their kittens home. And they’ve decided that my chair is now their “nap place” and “jungle gym”. So by extension, when I am sitting there, trying to write, I become a designated piece of jungle gym equipment. Ow.