This is the blog of Sarah Monette/Katherine Addison, a professional writer of horror, fantasy, and science fiction. Sarah Monette is my real name; Katherine Addison is a pen name, intended to be transparent.
If you've found me here, odds are pretty good you're looking for something to read, so the following is--to the best of my knowledge--a complete list of everything I've written that's available online:( STORIESCollapse )( ESSAYSCollapse )
If you know of anything I've missed, please leave a comment!
1. 45 minutes, 30 laps (stopped early because of horrific headache)
303 miles, 25 laps
2. Did not wipe out on the icy sidewalk either leaving the house or coming home. Go team me!
3. Thank you, everyone, for your kind thoughts re: the First Ninja (who is also the Skinny Ninja, the Tsarina in Exile, and the Executive Transvestite; her sister is the Tubby Ninja, the Terminator, and the Action Transvestite). She is emphatically hungry today (she sat in the kitchen doorway making little moop
noises at me while I mixed her pills into her food), so we soldier on with as much bravery and good will as we can.
4. The electricians will be back in the walls tomorrow to finish upgrading the house, starting at 8 a.m. This dovetails just beautifully
with my current inability to get to sleep before 4.
5. Chattanooga has a baby snow leopard
Today I have revised "To Die for Moonlight," adding 1,400 words and a plot complication. 7,700 words total now and back it goes to mirrorthaw
to see if the improvements have improved things.
(My Samsung printer totally just made a noise like a jet engine powering down. Dude. I knew it was mighty, but not that
I have also paid bills and dealt with some house stuff, plus feeding the cats, medicating the Elder Saucepan, and putting food and water out for the feralistas. (If you run the water hot and put it out in a plastic bowl instead of metal, they have a fighting chance of getting a drink before it freezes solid.) Oh, and feeding and medicating me.
I know I'm finally coming out of the ankle-related slump, because my to do lists for the word mines are getting too complicated to keep in my head again. The current one looks more or less like this:
1. Query Apex re: "Learning to See Dragons."
2. Revise "To Die for Moonlight."
2a. Read-aloud pass through "TDfM."
3. One more pass through "Hollywood and Vine," mostly for clean up. 3a. Read-aloud pass through "H&V."
4. Editing pass through "The Devil in Gaylord's Creek."
4a. Read-aloud pass through "TDiGC."
5. Submit "TDfM," "H&V," and "TDiGC."
6. Implement fix for the broken bit of "The Witch of Arvien" and inflict on mirrorthaw
to see if the story runs now.
7. Revise the nameless story about the knight, the wizard, and the giant mutant telepathic bear. (Also, find a title!)
8. Finish "Hope is Stronger than Love" for Shadow Unit
9. Finish Thirdhop Scarp
, kicking and screaming all the way.
10. Write the missing scenes for The Goblin Emperor
and hope for edit letter soon.
11. Essay for Projekt that I think is still Sekrit.
12. Next EQ essay for tor-dot-com
13. Read and review Brave New Worlds
14. New werewolf story? (First line: The werewolf had hooked his iPod up to the stereo and put it on shuffle.
And from there, the To Do list merges indistinguishably into the first lines meme
- Tags:a trebuchet for turnips, adventures in home-owning, ankle you are very stupid, cats, ellery queen, feralistas, goblin emperor, kmb, outnumbered and outgunned, tor-dot-com, word mines, writing: long form, writing: short form
Again last night, taking the Requip seemed to make my RLS go off like a car alarm. I called the doctor's office this morning; the consensus is that I need to bear with it a little longer, so this weekend may be somewhat unpleasant on the meat-puppet front.
Also today, the plumber came. He will be giving us estimates on replacing the bathtub faucet and (FINALLY*) ripping out the superfluous sink in the dressing room. He also very kindly took a look at the furnace's leaky check-valve (since it's distinctly what one might call a water-based problem), but he said he only knows enough about steam heat to get himself in trouble. So I called the furnace people, who sent the repair guy WITHIN THE HOUR. The valve is cracked; the nearest replacement part is in Chicago; furnace repair guy will return, with part, Monday afternoon. We will hope there isn't a dramatic cold snap this weekend while we have house guests. (O house guests, if you are thin-blooded, you may want to bring an extra blanket or something.)
Furthermore, I scheduled my annual gynecological exam (yee-ha), the First Ninja's date with the vet techs now that she's finished her course of antibiotics (once again, mirrorthaw
is a Hero of the Revolution), and check-ups for Catzilla and the Elder Saucepan. (The cats are scheduled for early October; I can't get in until January.)
Then, oddly enough, I took a nap.
From which I awoke to the realization that something in this room smells like a mummy crept in and disintegrated under the bed while I was asleep. Musty and sweetish and unpleasant, and I feel uneasily like there's a John Bellairs novel gearing up around me. So if tomorrow there's nothing left of me but a cracked pair of spectacles, you'll know what happened.
ETA that "FINALLY" is for slowness on our end, not his.
1. Thank you, everyone, for the birthday wishes on Wednesday. So far, thirty-five is going pretty well.
2. One of my birthday presents was a ring made by Sara Jayne Cole
. I think I've linked to her work before, but I gotta say, it's worth linking to again. (Disclaimer: she is a friend of my mother's.)
3. My birthday present to myself--and mirrorthaw
--was buying a new bed with the advance from the goblin book. Since the bed we were sleeping on was the one I bought when I moved to Madison in 1996, you may rightfully say that this birthday present is neither self-indulgent nor, indeed, a moment too soon. Also, for the first time in our adult lives, we have an honest-to-god bed frame.
4. The bed frame has taught me that I do actually have a (rather dim and rudimentary) sense of spatial relations. I walked into it in the dark yesterday because I knew exactly where the bed was. Or, you know, used to be. I'm developing a lovely bruise on my thigh.
5. I have reached 65,000 words in the goblin book. 45,000 to go. Which will be easier once I figure out what the captain of the palace guard wants to talk to the emperor about.
Things learned while gardening today:
1. I'm a much better gardener if you give me a task. "Go out and garden" does nothing for me. "Go out and slaughter all the grape vines you can reach" does.
2. If you have an Anthropophagous Rosebush, you let the grape vines co-habitate with it at your peril.
3. ZOMG! We have BERRIES! Blackberries, I think, but my woodsy lore is so stunted and vestigial that they might as easily be the rare and deadly cyanideberry for all I know. (No, we will not be eating them unless we get a positive ID.) They are also co-habitating with the Anthropophagous Rosebush, which explains why I have lived in this house for five years without knowing they're there. One leafy aggressive thing with thorns is much like another to me, unless one of them is actually, you know, fruiting
4. I need better gardening gloves. Or possibly gauntlets.
5. The only thing that can be said in praise of Virginia creeper is that it is not as macho as the grape vines.
Update on the Cerise Bouquet
climbers, for any rosaphiles who care: both bushes seem to have survived the trauma of being planted. One of them died back quite a bit, but it has surviving branches (is branch the right word?), the largest of which happens to be the branch which has found the trellis. The other bush seems to be doing fine. So a round of applause for my rose bushes, please. They're making the best of a bad lot.
ETA: I am charmed to discover, by following links from the HelpMeFind.com page, that the nursery founded (in 1906) by the man who created the Cerise Bouquet is (a.) in Schleswig-Holstein, (b.) still in operation, and (c.) on the web
(German-language only, despite the splash page being in English, but the pictures are lovely).
::is great big sparkly geek::
Today I planted two Cerise Bouquet climbing roses
, in the hopes that they will be obliging enough to climb the trellis on the west end of the front porch. I am uneasily aware that I am standing at the top of a slippery slope, rose-wise, and am hoping that my aversion to sunlight will keep me strong.
Also, a plug: HelpMeFind.Com
is very aptly named, for they did, in fact, help me find
the identity of my roses. (The nursery from which I got them had had them for quite a while and had lost their information.)