I know, I know – but this is my job, and I’ll post some pet pictures as a palate-cleanser, I promise. Don’t worry. I only published a couple of things this year, so this part will be short. In a nutshell, I have a mere two projects to hold up and gesture at winsomely, in hopes that someone might recommend them or vote for them in upcoming voting-for-stuff activities like the Hugos, Nebulas, Locus Awards, Stokers, and so forth.
To wit: First up from Poison Pen (Sourcebooks) I produced The Drowning House, a novel about two childhood friends who struggle to get their shit together and cooperate when a house washes up on a beach during a storm – and their long-time bestie has vanished in the same.
I set this one on Marrowstone Island, a real and groovy place on the northeast end of the Olympic Peninsula, across Puget Sound from Seattle. You can – and I would argue, should – visit it if you have the means and are interested in ocean ecology, military history, or camping. Up at the northern point, Fort Flagler has a tiny museum and it’s a hoot. You can even rent out the old army buildings for seasonal vacays, if that’s your jam. They’re actually very affordable.
Second for 2024’s offerings, I released Cinderwich, a novella from Apex Publications. This was a strange little piece – one part friend fan-fiction (you may recognize some of the characters, or strongly suspect that you do), one part cold case (inspired by a real event that happened in the UK in the 40s), and one part cute lesbian buddy comedy road trip. With a heaping dash of ghost shenanigans and strange happenings [insert “mwoohahahaha” here]
It’s a project of the heart, and I remain eternally grateful that so many of you have given this one a chance, and received it with the intended spirit. I love this little thing, and I’m glad it exists.
If you are, too, then kindly consider writing it into whichever awards category best suits. As a point of note, it’s 57,000 words long (give or take a few words either way). I know some awards categories might consider that a novel, and others a novella. I trust your judgment.
Right! Well. On that note, I owe you some pet pictures.
Come Monday around lunchtime, our beloved elderdog Greyson will get a little pain assessment checkup for new meds, as his arthritis and hip dysplasia are getting very, very hard on his mobility. He’ll be thirteen sometime in January, and that means – realistically speaking – our time together is drawing shorter. Right now, he’s still the happy guy he’s always been. I just want to make sure that he’s as comfortable as possible for as long as possible. Because look, every day Dogs Want Walks. And he will NOT be denied.
Large, handsome senior dog. He is black and white and fluffy, and he loves you. Yes you, personally. I know this because he loves literally everyone. Ever.
Sorry. Not trying to be morbid. Just realistic. It’s the deal you make when you bring them home; the whole goal is to outlive them. It’s a privilege, honestly – to love something and keep it safe for its whole life. Still sucks at the end, though.
The vet we’ve called out for this trip has known him for years but she hasn’t seen Monty since he first came home. (Long story, re: vet company buyouts and whatnot.) She’s um, in for a surprise there. Last time she saw him, he weighed about 8-1/2 pounds, had a terrible indolent ulcer eating his upper right lip, was still mostly bald, and was scratching himself raw due to food allergies. I’d say he’s come a loooong way, baby.
Large fluffy gray tabby sprawled insouciantly on a white throw with a black evil eye ward print. He is big and furry and handsome and has no further health issues. In fact, he’s almost fourteen pounds – on the verge of being a little fat.
Lucy, of course, is Lucy. The best of her kind. Once in a blue moon, she still goads Greyson into chasing her – but those days are few and far between, alas. So now she’s turned most of her shenanigans-attention to Monty. She’s certain she can get him to play with her, if she can just figure out HOW.
In fact, he’s happy to play with her. They play chase around the house fairly regularly, even; but the one time I saw Monty try to initiate a play session… he traumatized the poor dog by jumping on her head while she was asleep, which sent her into a panic. She ran to me and needed a good ten minutes of reassuring cuddles before she could even make eye contact with him again.
One of these days, they’ll figure it out. I’m pretty sure.
Large fluffy black and tan husky/shepherd mix with a snowy snoot and brown dot eyebrows. She has bright blue eyes that look white in photos, and an expression that says she’s up for pretty much anything.
Anyway, that’s all the news for the moment. I’m working on diving back into my WIP this coming week because why not, it’s not like I’m going anywhere for the holiday – and I’ll be kitty-sitting for some friends, so maybe I’ll post pictures of their cats, too. They don’t mind, and their cats are very good-looking, natch.
Once I get that underway again in earnest, I’ll post word metrics in the ol’ LiveJournal format up here, just for the lols. (If you don’t know what I mean, you’ll see what I mean.) Thanks for reading, everyone. I literally couldn’t do it without you.
