Scurrying Awkwardly Past Another Anniversary, and Onward

Well. Blow me down... A numerologically significant anniversary has utterly escaped my notice, until now. The date June 1, 2014 marked the twentieth anniversary of the first publication of the first edition of my first novel, A Harlot of Venus.

And this spaced-out excuse for a Rodent missed it. Alas! Gone forever is the opportunity for a grand twentieth hoopla. It's a good thing nobody noticed, so I have four more quiet years to prepare for the silver anniversary in whatever year that is for people who can count... Oh, right: 2019.

Luckily, however, in the upcoming summer of 2015, all those children born in the Martian Year of the Harlot (1994) will be of an age to legally raise and imbibe a toast to the publication, and the subsequent "rollicking success" of the book. (In the last two decades at least twenty copies have been sold; and most of those I've bought back on the used market so they can be bundled for pulping. And, for what it's worth, I'm pretty certain the first paper publication did not recoup my glorious advance on royalties before the publisher went furry-tummy up. But that's a story fit for the summer of 2016!)

I guess now I'll need to make a fabulous Green Woman poster and print flyers inviting everyone over the age of twenty-one to Santa Banana on June 1, 2015 for a festival at which alcoholic beverages will be served with impunity.

Mark your calendars for the silver anniversary, everyone: June 1, 2019. Bring a copy of the book to the party for signing, and we'll throw in that coveted set of six Ginsu can-cutting knives absolutely free!

Pay no attention to that book behind the curtain...