A far better writing day yesterday, which was an enormous relief. I wrote 1,521 words on "The Bone's Prayer," which will appear in Sirenia Digest #39. Which I hope will go out to subscribers at the beginning of next week, only a few days late. On the upside, this means you'll be getting two issues in March. I think this story is going to come out a bit more Lovecraftian, in the "Mythos" sense, than I'd originally intended. I also rewrote my biography for Ellen Datlow's forthcoming Lovecraft Unbound anthology yesterday. That book will be out in October and reprints "Houses Under the Sea.
I got an email yesterday from Singapore, from an acquaintance who's there on business:
The weather is decidedly Asian tropical jungle. I have stood in the office watching the most incredible electrical storms I have ever had the pleasure to see roll in. Great wide expanses of dark rain clouds roll in on a fairly strict timetable, scattering forked lightning across the buildings beneath, and booming out like nothing I have heard before. The sound is like a metallic echo, something akin to the sound I imagine would be made by a large empty shipping container being dropped on the roof above.
Thank you, Beq. I love that imagery.
My editor wrote to say that she's very happy with the revised manuscript for The Red Tree. So there's another relief, and it looks as though everything's still on schedule for the August release date. Soon, I have to begin thinking about promoting it, about getting with my publicist, and I have to start thinking harder about the next novel. Not a lot of breathing room right now.
I've not left the house since February 18th. Which is really neither here nor there.

I got an email yesterday from Singapore, from an acquaintance who's there on business:
The weather is decidedly Asian tropical jungle. I have stood in the office watching the most incredible electrical storms I have ever had the pleasure to see roll in. Great wide expanses of dark rain clouds roll in on a fairly strict timetable, scattering forked lightning across the buildings beneath, and booming out like nothing I have heard before. The sound is like a metallic echo, something akin to the sound I imagine would be made by a large empty shipping container being dropped on the roof above.
Thank you, Beq. I love that imagery.
My editor wrote to say that she's very happy with the revised manuscript for The Red Tree. So there's another relief, and it looks as though everything's still on schedule for the August release date. Soon, I have to begin thinking about promoting it, about getting with my publicist, and I have to start thinking harder about the next novel. Not a lot of breathing room right now.
I've not left the house since February 18th. Which is really neither here nor there.

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