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The Hour Approaches
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La la la. My agent met with my editor at the World Fantasy Convention (hope y'all that attended had fun, by the way), and talked about the plans for my series, which sound wonderful, so I'm very happy and hopeful. Blood Engines should be out sometime in Fall 2007.

I'm reading Ramsey Campbell's upcoming The Grin of the Dark and enjoying it very much. He's so good at building up disquiet through little subtle descriptive details and bits of dialogue. I'll review it, sometime, I imagine.

Wednesday's my day off, and it'll be busy, but not fiendishly so. I'm going to start getting Flytraps in the mail, and sending contributor payments, and etc. I also need to review some pr0n, and work on the Dream novel, of course. I may do a little grocery shopping. The glamorous life of a writer and all that. I wouldn't trade it for anything, except possibly a life of vast wealth and hedonistic leisure, and even then I'd probably write on the side.

Poor Heather is sick -- I imagine all the hours spent on airplanes battered her immune system -- and I'll probably catch her cold in a day or two. Otherwise, though, life is good. It's still summerlike here, bizarrely warm and beautiful after spending a week in autumnal Indiana. I'm almost impatient for it to turn cold and start raining, so I can make a big batch of chili. It just wouldn't feel right, eating chili when it's 65 degrees and sunny outside... I associate the dish so much with California winters.

Last night I had a mild freakout over the fact that I'm turning 30 in five weeks. I'm psychologically predisposed to take special note of milestones, but this is the first birthday since 21 that's gotten any special notice from me. I feel like I'm supposed to grow up now, or something, stop screwing around, start eating better, put my financial house in order, all that. Never mind that I've been trying to do those things for the past couple of years anyway -- it feels like now I have to. It's utterly irrational, as so many persistent and unshakeable notions are. Ah, well. I'm sure I'll get over it. Heather tells me the 30s are way better than the 20s. We shall see. My 20s were pretty awesome.



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