Though I suppose I could be accused of bias when I say “I LOVE IT!” it’s true nonetheless. The cover for Hounded is awesome; Del Rey has captured Atticus perfectly!
When Tricia & Mike (my spiffy editors) told me that Advanced Reader’s Editions were on their way, they made one request: have someone take pictures of me opening the box. They know I’ve been waiting to be published a long time, and to see my book bound and printed for the first time would be, in the words of our vice president, “a big f#%!ing deal.” I agreed readily, not knowing what torture it would be…
The box arrived on Friday; I arrived soon after. BUT NO ONE WAS AROUND TO TAKE PICTURES. I couldn’t open it! I could have gone to a convenience store and made the clerk take pictures—I was thinking such things—but not seriously, because I wanted my family to be around when I opened it; they’ve been waiting a long time to see the book too. I had to wait three hours for my wife to get home, gnawing on my fingers the whole time, staring at the Box of Joy that I could not open.
It taunted me with its Random House return address and its priority overnightness:
Do not be alarmed by my strange expression in the next picture. I’m petting the box and purring, see. Well, okay, be alarmed if you’d like.
….Words fail. All I can say is that there’s nothing like a dream coming true, and I couldn’t be happier.
Below is my photo of the ARE cover. I apologize for the wee bit of glare. Also, the icons on the charms aren’t really coming through on this picture—all you see are black squares—but you’ll see them “for reals” with your naked eye, and they’re sublime. I’ll have the cover art file later, but for now enjoy the ARE:
The shocking news first: I have discovered that there are some human beings—sharing the planet with us right now, I might add—who don’t like pie. Until today, I was not aware that this was an option. I’m actually thinking that this is an elaborate hoax perpetrated by my students, and those who protested to me that they seriously don’t like pie are being contrary. I am tempted to dismiss it all as teenage rebellion. I mean, how can you look at this…
No…really! I’ve joined the League of Reluctant Adults at their invitation, and I’m thrilled! What is the League?
Well, it’s a group of 23 authors (including yours truly) who write Urban Fantasy and Paranormal Romance. We get together during conventions and whatnot to hold group signings, do unspeakable things to action figures, etc. I haven’t met any of my fellow Leaguers in person yet, but I’ve read quite a few of their books and I know from that experience that they’re brilliant. For example, there’s Nicole Peeler, Kelly Meding, Stacia Kane, Cherie Priest, Anton Strout…and more!
Go visit the League here and follow us! Nicole Peeler is introducing/hazing me sometime today on the site, so you’re sure get a laugh or two. You might have to scroll down to find me (depending on when you click over there because two other authors will be introduced), but it’ll be worth it—Nicole is pretty funny.
Right now I’m on October break—a week off in between quarters. It’s an excellent time o’ year to be off work in Arizona. The weather is freakin’ perfect.
Today was an especially cool day. I all but finished copy editing Hammered, I got invited into a SUPER! SECRET! club (which won’t be a secret on Monday because I’ll blog about it then), I hung out by the pool at an awesome resort with some friends of mine, hit the comic book store to pick up Chew #14 and Northlanders #33, then walked into a used bookstore out here called Bookman’s.
Here is what happened when I walked into Bookman’s with my daughter:
UNKNOWN FEMALE VOICE: (shock, excitement) Mr. Hearne!
Hearne turns his head to the right. Two students stand agape at the vision of their English teacher existing outside of school.
I’m on my October break—which means a week off from school—and having a WHOLE! WEEK! to read and write and run errands during normal business hours sounds like a swim in milk chocolate right now.
My copy edits for Hammered are going to arrive today, so of course I’ll be diving into that, and I’m hoping to finish up my outline for book six this week, which is currently wearing the tentative title of Hunted.
My outlines are about 10-15 pages. I’m making them longer and more detailed than I used to because I saw the advantage of it while writing Hexed; the detailed notes I’d written on Hexed allowed me to crank it out in five months, and it was also far easier to edit/prettify than Hounded or Hammered, neither of which had detailed outlines. So I’ve learned quite a bit about myself as a writer—I can write as a pantser and as a plotter as well—but wow, the job sure gets done more efficiently when I plot. That doesn’t mean I slavishly follow the outline, either—I change things as I go, especially the order of events. I’ll probably post my Hexed outline after the book comes out so people can compare what I’d planned against what actually got written.
Here’s what I plan to read this week:
We have three miniature fruits here alongside a giant variation of another. Miniature Clementine oranges, a wee watermelon, and a petite pumpkin frame Scott Westerfeld’s dieselpunk Behemoth, while huge table grapes called Pristines nestle against the steampunk succulence of Cherie Priest’s Dreadnought.
I loved both Leviathan (Westerfeld) and Boneshaker (Priest), so these sequels are going to be delightful returns to worlds I enjoyed on my first visit. I especially love that Dreadnought is printed in brown ink like Boneshaker was.
In other news, Suvudu is starting their Villain Cage Match! TODAY! You can go vote now for who should fill in the last few slots in the bracket here.
And when the first round starts, one of the matchups will be introduced by Yours Truly! The bracket is public now, so I’m not going to be spoiling anything with this: I’ve written up the White Witch from the Chronicles of Narnia (Seed #5) vs. Gaius Baltar from Battlestar Galactica (Seed #28)! I hope you’ll follow along and join in the fun by voting! These Cage Matches are the coolest thing ever…it’s a chance to feed the Nerd Inside. So say we all.
A couple months ago, the Rim Country Chapter of Arizona Press Women invited me to speak in Payson about writing genre fiction and how I got my start, and I accepted gladly. I’ve had plenty of practice keeping high school kids entertained for an hour, but could I do the same with adults? It turned out to be two hours. Once I got going I found out I had more to say than I thought. And they paid me a huge compliment—when the organizer asked about halfway (??) through if anyone wanted to stop and take a break, no one wanted to go! So that gave me warm fuzzies and I’m glad it wasn’t a snorefest.
It was held at the East-West Book Exchange, an extremely cool little place with some gift shop goodies and a coffee bar (free wifi!) in addition to books and a lovely room that they rent out for yoga classes and small events like mine. Owners Chip and Lisa Semrau are gracious people and their mochas are fantastically good. Like holy-crap-I-think-Starbucks-sucks-now kind of good.
There were 35 people there, which I thought was fairly decent considering that I haven’t even been published yet. Many of the people I spoke to had already been published in nonfiction markets but were curious about how to break into fiction, so I explained why getting an agent is a Really Good Idea and how one might best accomplish that, and I also spoke about urban fantasy tropes and the glorious fun of steampunk.
I saw some folks in the audience taking notes and they had some great questions afterward, so I hope it turned out to be helpful. I like to think of the market as a giant pie, and everyone should have a slice.
This post isn’t about whiskey. But I could see how you’d think that, what with the title and all. Nope, this is about a destination.
Whiskey Row is in downtown Prescott, Arizona. It’s famous for an awful lot of rows begun by men who drank too much whiskey. And, of course, there used to be a whole row of bars there in the days when people only bathed seasonally. There still are quite a few bars there, but they’re interspersed with gift shops and scented candle stores now that people bathe more often. It tells you how far Arizona’s come in a hundred years: we used to just need booze, but now we need booze and a way to smell good afterward.
On the corner of Gurley and Montezuma is the St. Michael Hotel. It’s over a century old, which is “old” for Arizona. Teddy Roosevelt stayed there. John L. Sullivan did too, and I was told by my paternal grandmother (maiden name of Sullivan) that I’m distantly related to him somehow. (I only remembered that today, when I saw a plaque with his name on it affixed to the hotel. I sorta thought, “Wow. You know you’re famous when your sleeping arrangements get marketed to future generations.”And I might not be related to him at all—Grandma’s story might have been blarney; I think he’s someone every Irishman wishes he was related to, because he kicked a lot of ass and his mustache was epically virile.)
In any case, my family and I decided to sup in the bistro located on the ground floor of said establishment. It looked like this:
We were early so that’s why the joint looks deserted. I ordered a broiled portobello stuffed with artichoke, spinach, tomato, zucchini and parmesan spread out on a red pepper coulis. Jasmine rice and veggies on the side. It looked like this and it was nummy:
I gave the cauliflower to my daughter because I can’t eat that stuff. It looks like braaaaains.
We were visiting Whiskey Row today because there’s a very cool photographer up there named Amy Ryland, and if I absolutely must let someone take my picture, then it’s gotta be her. She found a spiffy stone wall on Whiskey Row and shot me there for my author photo. Brace yourself.
As promised, I eschewed the infamous and ubiquitous Author Chin Cradle. (Though I’m leaving my Profile Chin Cradle up on the right sidebar, and I’ll also continue to use it on Twitter and Facebook because it cracks me up.) I didn’t give into temptation and stand in front of a bookcase, either. Nope, this is Stone Cold Whiskey Row, and there’s a twinkle in my eye because that tends to happen when I’m in close proximity to that much whiskey.
I think you can click on the picture to enlarge it, but I’d recommend that you resist the urge, because there’s only so much cute chubby Irish guy you can handle.
My editor tells me that Advance Reader Editions of Hounded will be available sometime in December. I have no idea how many they will print or who will get them: It’s a mystery. But O, frabjous day! My cover shouldn’t be a mystery for much longer! For one thing, there will be a poster of it on display at the New York Comic Con next weekend. If you’re going to be there, stop by the Del Rey booth and check it out. :)
I have to sit still long enough for someone to take an author photo and I’m practically gibbering, “distilled almost to jelly in the act of fear.” (Shout-out to Horatio)
How can I simultaneously make myself look interesting and yet not so weird that I scare the bejesus out of potential readers? Try to come up with an image of yourself being “conservatively interesting” and you’ll see what I mean. It’s nearly impossible. It’s why authors give up and stand in front of bookcases. It’s why they bow their heads and stare at pads of paper with pen in hand. It’s why they do the infamous chin cradle (see my profile picture, which I did on purpose and it cracks me up) or skulk around trees.
I will not go gently into that good night: I shall not cross my arms in front of a bookcase and pretend that this is what I normally do. If one of those wildlife photographers were to stalk me, to capture my life candidly in my natural habitat, then they’d probably catch me reading comic books on the couch, far away from the bookcase. Or I’d be writing at the kitchen table, which is what I’m doing right now and where I write most of the time. There might (or might not) be a beer next to the computer. But I can’t do any of that: see, if I’m reading a comic, some people are going to sneer at me because I’m reading comics, some will sneer because of the particular titles I read, and heck, I probably couldn’t get permission to publish a copy of the comic cover in any case. And if I have a beer in the picture, I’m going to offend all kinds of people—first, people who don’t drink, second, people who drink wine or “harrrrrd likker,” and third, beer snobs who will criticize my unrefined palate no matter what’s in my glass.
I paint miniature dwarfs, but someone will recommend me for therapy if they see a picture of that. On the other hand, I might be enshrined into the Nerd Hall of Fame for a picture like that.
Sigh. I’m probably going to hover around some plant life and hope it camouflages the fact that I’m almost forty. But it’ll be kind of cool to have a “39” picture out there. I might wind up using it for a long time. :)