An achievement

You're probably thinking, "Ooh, an award!" or "She signed with an agent!" But no, this is one of those minor milestones in life: surviving a trip to the post office. Honestly, I think every time you get in and out of a government facility, you have immediately earned yourself a cocktail.

I know it's silly to celebrate something as easy as making a trip to the post office, but it's special to me. You see, at least 95% of the submissions I make are done electronically. I just click a few buttons and zip, off my story or book goes. But when you have to actually print out your work and find an envelope and figure out the postage, it makes you sit back and reflect upon what you're doing. I mean, there was a time two years ago where I would catch myself chanting as I walked, "I wish I was a writer, I wish I was a writer." It was kind of a mantra for me.

And then sometime last summer it just hit me: I am a writer. I am living my dream. I create things and I share them with amazing people. Sometimes people even like my stuff enough to tell me about it or contact me on Facebook and let me know. If that's not what I dreamed about when I was eight years old and had just decided that I was going to be a writer when I grew up, then I don't know what is.

Oh, and I just saw the rough draft of Dark Depths' cover. Galen Dara and Carrie Cuinn are absolutely amazing. I can't wait to hold this book in my hands.

The HUMANITY!

This weekend, at the inaugural meeting of my new writing group, a friend pointed out that the main character in my story was hard to connect with. She was just too cold, too unemotional. I jotted down a note to fix that.

Jotting down a note doesn't seem like a major milestone, but for me, it was. You see, characters in my first drafts are always unemotional. I just don't write characters that emote. At least, not in a first draft. This has tormented me for about three years. In fact, I thought there was something wrong with me. Was I a cold, heartless monster with no feelings in my heart? Was I completely clueless when it came to human relationships? Was I doomed to never write anything good in my entire life?

(If you're not reading that last statement as a prolonged wail, you have clearly never spent time around me while I was unhappy.)

But something happened a few months ago. Either I grew up (fat chance), or I learned a thing or two about the way I write. I am motivated to write stories by wondering what happens next. And when I sit down to write a story, I already feel very strongly attached to my characters; I usually can't put down a first paragraph unless I've already gotten a good sense of the character's voice. So as I write, I'm usually focused on the puzzle of what happens next and am overwhelmed by the emotional experience of the characters, which are so close to me that they feel like my very own experiences. I'm so into the moment that I sometimes forget to fill in the blanks for my readers.

The good news is that all of that is fixable in the revision process. I'm not broken; I'm just forgetting to share everything I know about my world and my characters. This is something entirely obvious to anyone but me. I've made myself extremely miserable worrying about this stuff.

Yeah. I'm that level of dumb.

But I do have a fun new story coming out in the Lovecraft eZine this week, and I have an AWESOME new Lovecraft eZine tee shirt!

Plus this weekend is the HP Lovecraft Film Festival! I can't wait to see my fellow Lovecraftian creators!

FOCUS

I just came back from the eye doctor's, which is always a fun experience. It's weird to actually pay attention to what my eyes are doing and to try to challenge them, and it definitely makes me appreciate the normal, comfortable sight I enjoy every day (with the help of my glasses!). Life is a lot more rewarding when it's easy to  focus.

The same can be said about writing. When life gets busy, it's hard to give your writing projects the focus that they need. Sometimes, life doesn't even have to be the distractor--depending on your working style, problems within the project can also make you lose your focus. I've definitely had times when I just couldn't pay attention to my project, couldn't make myself push forward. I used to chew myself out for being lazy. But recently, I realized that the way I write, my brain doesn't allow me to move forward if there are big gaps or problems with the material behind me. I haven't added more than about 100 words to the current scene of my novel in over two weeks: I've been stuck because the two chapters before didn't work and I'd added some new characters that were shallow and boring. I went back and added a bunch of new material, learning a lot about the characters. The book is still growing, and I'm happy.

You see, right now, my life is being particularly distracting. But because I'm still engaging with my work, I'm still getting words down on the page. Last year, when I was working through wedding planning, I failed to identify the real problems within my work, and wound up disengaged from the project. I let myself get sidetracked with life issues, and I also got mad at myself for not working harder on the book. All that accomplished was making me feel really badly about myself.

Don't give up on your writing when you find yourself stalling or struggling. And don't blame your busy life, either. A busy life makes it difficult to concentrate on your writing, but your problems probably stem from your relationship to your characters and the story line. Clearly, the secret is focus!

HAPPY EARTH DAY!

Now turn off your computer, go sit in the grass, and write something brilliant.

Got bears?

If you like action and adventure, then buzz on over and catch my new piece "Mother Bears"--it's a 3-part serial, and the grand finale goes up on Wednesday.

Working on this piece was a remarkable challenge. When I approached James Sutter, editor extraordinaire for Paizo, to talk about writing tie-in fiction, I had to admit with some embarrassment that I have never played a single RPG. (My friends are now probably looking at me with dismay.) You'd think that would disqualify me from writing in the field, but when I also admitted I had a tie-in fiction addiction, it seemed to ease our conversation a little. (That's right--if it says "Forgotten Realms" on the cover, I've probably read it.) But still: I had a lot to learn.

My first step in writing this piece was to catch up with the Pathfinder universe. No sweat, right? How big can one world be?

Astonishment, lithograph by Thomas Fairland after W. H. Hunt, c. 1870s

Well...

I can't even figure out how many books Pathfinder has. There are three bestiaries, a core rulebook, advanced player guides, creature guides, multiple wikis, web fiction, almost a dozen novels, and probably a lot of other material I've managed to overlook, let alone read. I spent about three weeks plowing through the basic information before I even knew enough to get ideas for a story. And then once I sent a list of story ideas to James, I learned how little I really knew, because a lot of my ideas didn't actually work in the world! I had to go back and revisit the historical timeline and bestiaries and sort out a few things. Then I worked up a solid story idea and drafted it.

I sent the story to James, who kindly helped me learn more about the monsters -- goblins -- that I'd chosen to write about. It turns out that goblins are really interesting characters in the Pathfinder world. In fact, if I was going to play a campaign, I'd definitely want to stumble into a pack of goblins. I mean, if I had quality weapons and some badass friends to back me up. These little guys are vicious and scary! I had to rethink "small" and turn it into "terrifying." Then I had to rewrite my piece. My original story made the goblins out to be trouble, but now I wanted to make them the kind of big trouble that could make a bunch of Viking-like guys crap their pants. (Errr ... breeches?)

To find out if it works, you'll have to read the story. Let's just say that the first draft of the story took a week to write. The second draft didn't get turned in until three months later. (Well, there was a lot of life going on in there, including going to World Fantasy and actually meeting James!) I'm pretty pleased with the results, and I hope to write more fiction in the Pathfinder universe. Why? Because it's such a cool place!

Now if only there were a Pathfinder board game for me to play...

My feet do NOT show it

As you may know if you read the Inkpunks blog, I went to a wonderful poetry class yesterday, full of great insight into poetry revision. The teacher, David Biespiel, proved excellent--easy-going, insightful, interesting--and I look forward to taking more classes with him in the future (money willing!). And I have to say, I am now even more excited about poetry than I was before walking in the door!

It's weird and wonderful to be returning to poetry. The first words that I ever wrote and fell in love with were poems--well, lyrics, actually, to a song/ode to our cat that my kind family members interpreted as a wonderful poem. I was eight, and I loved the way I could fall into the words and feel the world drift away from me. I'd always loved to make up little stories in my mind, but when I wrote poems, the actual words themselves held power. I loved feeling them come together on the page.

It wasn't until college that I began to feel more interested in prose than poetry, and I've really neglected the poetic realm since then. As a kid, I devoured all the poetry in the house, nearly memorizing our collected works of Robert Service and chewing my way through great swathes of Shakespeare's sonnets. (And of course, I'll never forget the poem "Mice," by Rose Fyleman--one of the few pieces I have completely memorized!) It's been wonderful to fall back into reading poetry, which is such a blissful, enchanting experience.

Speaking of enchanting experiences, I'll leave you with a poem that we read in our class. It is easily one of the most amazing things I've ever read, and I thought about it the whole two mile walk home.

The Illiterate

by William Meredith

Touching your goodness, I am like a man

Who turns a letter over in his hand

And you might think this was because the hand

Was unfamiliar but, truth is, the man

Has never had a letter from anyone;

And now he is both afraid of what it means

And ashamed because he has no other means

To find out what it says than to ask someone.

His uncle could have left the farm to him,

Or his parents died before he sent them word,

Or the dark girl changed and want him for beloved.

Afraid and letter-proud, he keeps it with him.

What would you call his feeling for the words

That keep him rich and orphaned and beloved?

HORSESHOE CRAB AWARD!!

My super-terrific friend Katie gave me a blogging award last week! It's the Horseshoe Crab Award for a long-lasting blog. Aww! Thanks, Kt! Here's hoping I keep trundling along, posting every now and then, for a good long time.

If you don't know her, Kt is a talented artist, writer-type, AND classics student. I'm a bit disappointed that my award's title wasn't written in Latin!

Today I am celebrating have 12 pieces of short fiction and poetry out on submission. I feel like I've been doing a lot of hard work and reaching this magical dozen makes me feel great. I've also been making some headway on my novel! Last year I spent most of my time learning and absorbing; this year, I feel like I have the brain space to actually write!

I have also been reading lots of challenging works (Duras, anyone?) and just re-read American Gods. I was re-reading in a more critical fashion than the first time I read it, but I'm considering going back through and charting out the plot points to build my skills. Never hurts to think more about books you like!

Oh--here's a delight: in just a few days, Armored, John Joseph Adams's anthology of power armor and mecha stories, will be released. I can't wait to see the story that Jak Wagner (my adorable brother) and I wrote together. If you're hungry for a sneak peek, there are a few stories on the webpage that you can read in full!

Eating & reading amazing

Ahh, blissful weekend of delicious food for belly and brain. Here's an overview of the chow:
-- Onion Cheese-Swirl Rolls: these tasted like onion rings. I made a batch of bread dough and rolled the dough out into a rectangle. I spread the dough with mayonnaise (trust me) and sprinkled on grated cheddar cheese and lightly salted chopped onion. Then I rolled it all up into a log, sliced the logs into lovely rolls (like a cinnamon roll) and baked until golden brown and delicious.
-- BLT wraps: the best wraps I've made in a really long time! We prepped a mashed-garbanzo bean salad (just a little bit of mayo with lots of pickle relish), added lots of salad mix, chopped tomatoes, tempeh bacon and feta. Could have used some onions, but I was too lazy to chop.

The brain food came mostly from a wonderful newsletter I've been getting from Brain Pickings. It's a wonderfully curated assortment of bits from some of the finest contemporary writers and thinkers--you never know what you'll get to read about, but you will be smarter when you get done.

Feeling smart is a special treat for me these days. I've had the horrible realization that 6 years in a job that does not challenge my intellect is making me stupid. Writing genre fiction has made me a much better word user and more careful reader, but my analytical mind is shriveling. My ability to make successful arguments is wasting away. I worry about what I'll be like in a few more years.

Pompom shaker

"Literature must be an axe to smash the frozen sea of the heart." -- Kafka

I think this quote perfectly captures why we read and write, especially in our time, when technology and crowded lives and too much information seems to be deactivating our more tender feelings. (Thinking back on the late 1800s, I am reminded that these things seem to run in cycles. All that poverty and pollution and government corruption!) Literature is a safe place for feelings. You can cuddle up with a book and allow your heart to defrost a bit and nothing terrible will happen.

One of the nice things about spec fic is the gentle way it opens up our hearts. The secondary world aspects of these genres helps us distance ourselves from any overwhelming emotion. And many of the great SF/F books work by crafting characters we love and admire, characters we don't mind sharing our lives with. Genre lit gives more of a tender defrosting than Kafka's steely ax--and I think that's okay. Much of literary fiction seems crafted out of pure cruel truth, bound and determined to show us honest, painful life in a way that resonates in a very strong manner. There are times when I can't take that kind of treatment and would prefer the administrations of a noble, furry-toed hobbit.

But whatever the genre we write, I think we're all on the same team, standing next to the race track and cheering for the runners to feel, FEEL, goddamnit! I can handle being a pompom shaker.

Nose. Grindstone. Stuff.

Dang! I've been really boring this month! Mostly, I've been trying to keep up with a few projects that have had me running tired, but I am really excited today. Why? Because I finally started reading A Wizard Abroad, the fourth book in Diane Duane's Young Wizards series. The first book in the series, So I Want To Be A Wizard, is one of my very favorite books, and I've been meaning to catch up with the series for a while now.

I'm feeling a real yen to read great mid-grade/young adult books right now. Any recommendations?

Moosewood!

Growing up, I knew instinctually that there were two kinds of people in this world: normal people and vegetarians. I also knew without asking that the vegetarian existed in an unholy realm no Wagner should ever dare enter. Just as children of strict Catholic parents know they risk disinheritance if they leave the church, I knew that becoming a vegetarian might create an insurmountable schism between myself and my father.

And yet, I felt pulled to it. Like a theater-loving boy in small-town Texas checking out Sondheim scores at the library, I used my library card to access the stuff of temptation. I found secret treasures in the cookbook section. An illicit thrill prickled up my spine the day I brought home my first vegetarian cookbook, but I was able to hide the titillating vegetarian nature of the recipes from my family, for I had found an ethnic cookbook, charming all of us with exotic ingredients from faraway places. I'd found Sundays at Moosewood Restaurant, and it proved to be a gateway drug. It took me a while, but I found my way to become an herbivore.

Now, almost twenty years later, I've been revisiting the Moosewood collection of cookbooks. I've made something out of almost every cookbook they've written, and Sundays remains a favorite. The past three weeks, I've made almost nothing that wasn't a Moosewood recipe (or at least, Moosewood-inspired. If you've read this blog before, you know I can't stick to a recipe for love or money). I'm happy to say that we've eaten like kings.

Vegetarian kings. My dad would laugh his butt off at the thought.

Parenting

A couple of weeks ago, I was walking with my eight year-old daughter downtown. We passed a store window full of fancy shoes and talked about the different styles. Then as we crossed the street to continue on our way to our library, a man began shouting at me. "Lady," he bellowed, "when I have kids I'm going to protect them from the sick culture you're inflicting on that girl. Bad! Bad! Bad!" He kept shouting until we were out of earshot.

My natural instinct was to push the guy out into on-coming traffic, but I just ignored him. I sort of wish I could have taken him out to coffee and told him just how dumb he was being--not just because he was wrong about me (or I think he's wrong; the reason we were downtown that day were to pick up a pair of shoes from the cobbler, thus instilling the value of repairing over replacing, and to visit the library and the history museum, which I think are pretty worthwhile cultural endeavors), but because he clearly doesn't understand what good parenting is all about.

A good parent knows that we can't protect our kids from our sick culture forever. We live in a country that bombards kids with messages about how to look and how to shop. If I simply kept my daughter under house arrest, or raised her in the wilderness without exposure to store fronts and advertising, I could expect her to enter the world as a very confused young adult. Or a very rebellious one.

Instead, we looked at those fancy-pants shoes together, and I pointed out the fur-lined heeled boots that I wouldn't wear because I can't stand the thought of adorable animals like foxes killed just for fashion. Even though I swooned over the gorgeous stiletto spectators, I had to explain that I'd never wear them because they'd hurt my back and worsen my foot problems, and that looking good isn't worth that kind of price to me. It was a worthwhile conversation about some of the real costs of fashion.

But that guy only saw two females talking about shoes. He didn't see the second-hand clothes or much-repaired clogs or bags full of library books. He didn't hear that thoughtful discussion about shopping or any of our later conversations about Oregon history or banned books. He let himself jump to conclusions.

Of course, if he knew more about us, he would have probably been horrified to know that we headed home to finish playing Resident Evil: Code Veronica.

Because a really good parent wants their kid to be ready for a zombie outbreak.

Up Close & Personal

This year, blogging's been a struggle. It's hard to know what I should focus on, and that's only been compounded by a drive to present myself more professionally--and the fact that I blog about writing over on the Inkpunks blog. What the heck does a writer-mom-veggie-goofball blog about????

 So my big decision is that I'm going to blog all my professional stuff over at Winniewoohoo.com. I'll blog about writing at the Inkpunks. And I'll blog all the goofball stuff here! Brace yourself for more recipes and silly hijinks.

This week I've been working hard to eat really great, healthy food and conquer some of my crazy cravings. This isn't easy! My family has roots in Missouri, and so I grew up eating good ol' country food: lots of pie, tasty casseroles, and my mom's amazing biscuits. If you're trying to cut calories, biscuits aren't always the best choice, but here are some biscuits you can enjoy calorie-free!

Birthday!

I just have to say that my birthday was GREAT! I had many wonderful birthday wishes and I am now the proud owner of hand-printed CTHULHU UNDERWEAR. What could be better?

Keep the dream alive

For months now, every day I've wanted to give up the writing game. This year's been hard: I've failed at every goal I've set for myself; I've derailed on dozens of projects; I've hated 90% of everything I've written, and I haven't advanced a lick in my personal or professional life. Last year, I was full of excitement and success and an easy relationship with the part of me that makes words. This year, there have been plenty of days where just getting out of bed in the morning is my biggest achievement. And the unfortunate truth is that on those days, the only thing that could really make me feel better, writing, is almost impossible. The more miserable I am, the more the words feel buried beneath a pile of immovable teak slabs.

On those days, reading most writing advice feels like a kick in the gut. Knowing that all my favorite authors kept on writing when they faced difficulties, producing thousands of words despite all adversity, is just a reminder of how weak and pathetic I seem. Thinking about that is sure incentive to give up.

Luckily, the fire to write is like any other fire: I've fed mine so much fuel over the years, that even smothered, the coals burn hot. Even when I feel like crap, that fire is still smoldering, churning over ideas and dreams. To get through these times, the best thing to do is to stop trying to shift the rocks and simply feed the fire. It'll burn through any obstacle, given enough attention and kindness.

Because I cope poorly with adversity, I might never be a successful writer. (Because of that, I might never be a successful anything, really--isn't that what the school counselor told me?) But I think about some of the great authors who've lived, people like Louisa May Alcott. Sure, she was tough and smart and funny--but when things went wrong, there were plenty of times when she climbed into bed and didn't get up for days at a time. She still managed to scrape by as a pulp fiction writer (until her amazing success with Little Women). She never gave up after her many set-backs.

So I think the single most important piece of writing advice you'll ever get--more important even than "Butt In Chair," which is 90% of everything a writer needs to know--is that you are the only person who can keep your dream alive, and you must do everything in your power to feed it and nurture it. You'll never be a writer if you let the dream die.

Networking, story by story

I've sold fifteen (or so) short stories. Some went to pro-markets; some went to small. Some were flash, some were horror. Some were fantasy. Some were SF. One was a collaboration. Some were to invitation-only anthos; one was specially commissioned by an editor in a bad place.

And every single sale was valuable. Every one of them has advanced my career, even the sale that made me a mere $10 Canadian. Why? Because every story I have sold has added to my social network.

When you submit a story, it passes through the hands of slush readers before it reaches the editors with final say. Many of these slush readers will advance in their careers--and I know for a fact that yes, they remember your name. I just spent a weekend hanging out with a slush reader-turned-editor who remembered our first introduction, a story he rejected from his slush pile two years ago!

So there's the first seed your story plants in a potential network of relationships. Then you have the editors, who will not only be paying you and promoting you, but also shaping your work--and if they're good, sculpting and affecting your relationship with your words. Line edits from a good editor can teach you a lot.

And of course, those editors remember a writer, their work, their professionalism. With any luck they might ask you submit again, to another project, or they might pass along your name to other editors. When you make a good connection with an editor, you connect yourself to everyone that editor knows ... and sometimes that's a very large network indeed.

But the really wonderful connections you make, the ones that might surprise you with their value, are the connections you'll make with the writers who are published alongside you. A new friend was published in the same small YA magazine I was, and from reading my story, he realized our writing styles were very sympathetic with each other. He asked me to collaborate on a project together that will be really fun. That's an opportunity that wouldn't have existed if I hadn't sold that YA story.

I just yesterday received an invitation to submit to an anthology that came from a ToC-mate who is now editing. (That's the second time this has happened.) I just today received an invitation to a writing retreat that's being organized by a remarkable writer who shared a ToC with me in a very tiny, now defunct erotica market. At World Fantasy, an anthology ToC-mate shared tips about a new market with great rates.

And remember that tiny Canadian anthology with the wee paycheck? Every day, the people who shared the ToC of that anthology write me, email me, share their anthology invitations, share their good news about their promotions within the industry, hang out with me at conventions, and introduce me to their other friends: editors, agents, and novelists I admire in the field.

Let me reiterate: these are opportunities I wouldn't have had if I hadn't sold those stories. Going to conventions and doing volunteer work have certainly helped my career, but the deepest and most helpful connections I've made have come from the editors who've bought my stories and writers who have shared tables of contents with me in magazines and anthologies.

Your writing career will be different from mine. But I think most writers find that they do not become superstars writing short fiction. They find that writing short fiction strengthens their craft and enables them to build a strong network of friends who are at similar stages in their career. The skills developed writing short fiction give writers the muscles they need to pick their way up the rocky slopes of an ascending career. The friends writers make will help them over the roughest terrain--or if you're really lucky, help you cut a switchback here and there.

Story by story, friend by friend, the summit approaches.

Orycon schedule!

OMG, Orycon is TOMORROW!!

*stops to hyperventilate*

I'd love to hang out with everybody possible, so if you're in town, please catch me after a panel or reading or something so we can chit-chat. Here's where I should be:

FRIDAY:

2 pm: "Drowning in Slush," a panel in Idaho

4 pm: Orycon Writers' Workshop, Executive Meeting Center

10 pm: "Erotic Bedroom Stories," a quick reading in Washington

Midnight: "Midnight Erotica Readings," Grant

SATURDAY:

11 am: "How to Prepare a Manuscript," another panel in Idaho

Noon: "Fantasy Magazine Reading,"Grant

2 pm: "Reading for Children," Hamilton

5 pm: "Stalking the Wild Anthology, Roosevelt

Midnight: "Midnight Horror Readings," Grant

Boo-yah!

Well, the cat's officially out of the bag! Today Dagan Books announced that my book Dark Depths will be its very first novel! I am very excited to work with the crew over at Dagan, which includes the very smart Carrie Cuinn, editor, and the extremely talented Galen Dara, illustrator and art director. I particularly can't wait to see the illustrations that Galen creates for the project. The story is set in a magical world with some very interesting creatures and locales, so I think the final product will be visually astounding.

Look for it Summer 2012!

Ice, ice baby

Limiting typing this week to the writing business (okay, and Twitter, because I have an addiction problem). This is because the middle finger tendon on my left hand--and I'm a lefty!--has a cyst on it. Yes, go Google tendon cysts. Better yet, Google bursitis, because those pictures are ewwwwww.

Anyway, trying to be as nice as I can be to my fingers, because I have a lot of typing to do! I've got a project I'd really like to complete this month, which might be challenging because I seem to be adding a new social commitment every three hours.

People like me! They really like me!

Character. Driven. Fiction.

I've seen a lot of talk about the distinction between genre and non-genre fiction. As a college student, I definitely felt as if genre fiction, my favorite to write, was looked down upon as un-intellectual, un-literary. But by and large, I simply think there are two kinds of fiction, one of which usually wins the literary awards, and one of which a lot of genre fiction tends to fit into. One kind of fiction says: "The world has broken you. What are you going to do about it?" (Broken Character fiction.) The other says: "This world is broken. What are you going to do about it?" (Broken World fiction.)

Yes, I think the vast majority of literary, awarded literature is fiction about characters whose circumstances have broken them in some special and interesting way--a way that then reflects upon some larger issue of the human condition. Most genre fiction (romance, mystery, Western, SF/F/H) is about normal (ish) people who must overcome some kind of external obstacles. People get pissy over the distinction between "character-driven" and "externally driven" literature, and they're right to be. Both kinds of fiction are about characters and their motivations. Both require insight into humanity, an examination of how people function when things go wrong. You can learn from both.

Do I think one kind is better than the other? No. But I do think Broken Character writing might take a little more skill. Why? Because being broken brings out what's worst in a person, and it's hard to create a character who is believably broken who isn't so annoying the reader throws the book out the window!

On a much lighter note, I will be at the World Fantasy Convention this weekend. If you'll be at the convention, too, and would like to meet up or buy me drinks (hey, a girl can try!), here is my schedule:

• Thursday, 10pm. How to Survive the Coming Zombie Apocalypse. (Panel)
• Saturday, 3 pm. Reading from The Way of the Wizard. (Group reading/party)
• Saturday, 6 pm. Edge Book Launch. (Group reading/party) -- I'll be reading from Rigor Amortis, so be prepared for some raunch. Or squick. Or just plain fun.
• Saturday, 8 pm. Inkpunks 1st Anniversary Party! (Group reading/party)--I'll be reading "Curvature of the Witch House," currently up at Innsmouth Magazine. But more importantly, there will be drinks! And snacks! And hot, hot door prizes!
• Sunday, 10 am. Crossed Genres Group Reading. Ease out of your hangover as I read a teaser from "A Tiny Grayness in the Dark," which is in CG's forthcoming Subversion anthology.

Hope to see you in the forthcoming merriment!

Thursday

10pm (Arrgh! Shouldn't I be DRINKING at 10pm?): How to Survive the Coming Zombie Apocalypse panel

Saturday

3: The Way of the Wizard -- group reading/party

6: Edge Book Launch

8: Inkpunks group reading/party

Sunday

10 am: Crossed Genres group reading