Today [ profile] thesandtiger and I went to the One of a Kind show and goofed around and bought a bunch of fancy stuff for about twice what we told ourselves we'd spend, as is the tradition of our people. I didn't document the craft show haul last year, but we will rectify that shit today.

-- Hairclip for one friend who will, I think, love it.
-- Small hand mirror for another friend as a part gift.

-- A bottle of maple sugar. I plan to do wicked things to baked apples with this.
-- Two vacuum-sealed bags of Indian candy, aka candied salmon. I, um, already ate one.
-- Two jars lavender honey from Prince Edward County.
-- Two bottles apple cranberry vinegar.
-- One bottle honey vinegar. Yes, that's vinegared mead. It's amazing.
-- One container maple salt, because I finished the container [ profile] dolphin__girl gave me for Christmas last year and I like putting it in my bread.

Base personal spoilage
-- Another of those hand mirrors, because it was adorable and I needed one, or a compact or something, to keep in my purse.
-- Three fridge magnets from the same place. One has a little cartoon pufferfish on it and says "Breathe". Hee. Also, a requisite "Make Art Not War" one, because I am still at least 18% hippie and my household should reflect this.
-- Two absolutely breathtaking shirts from Yasmine Louis, who I bought a hoodie from this spring which I love with all the love in the wide world. I even wrote a post at Make Awesome Sauce about her, back when that project lived and I was blogging for it. They are beautiful and I love them and I think I fangirled her embarrassingly.
-- A hat from Lilliput, because clearly hats were something that were in severe deficit in this house. It is one of those ones that are like newsboy caps with the brim out front, but not so round and flatter, and it is a lovely dark purple felt. It makes me look trendy and sharp and rakish and awesomely disreputable. Lock up your bespectacled hipster menfolk, Internet.

There were a couple other things we tried on -- dresses and the like -- which were nice, but weren't $200 (or whatever) nice, and a lovely green ring I didn't go back for after all, and beeswax candles I just plain forgot to pick up, and I was sort of hoping for something feathery to put in my hair. Also sort of failed at holiday gifts for friends, which is always our cover story for going to this thing, but still. This was a serious and deeply respectable haul.

The other thing with going to the craft show? Anything preserved or knitted elicits this automatic Let's see if I can make that reaction from me now: I look it over, counting stitches, checking on construction, inspecting the fiber. And mostly, on the theoretical level, I can make most of this stuff; it'd just be time and work and patience.

And then I want to. I want to knit and knead and pick out words for poetry so bad my hands twitch.

So I am home, surrounded by goodies, and deeply inspired to make: make food, make hats and gloves and sweaters, make paper, make seedlings, make words. And this is why I love going to this thing, aside from the regular stereotypes about girls and shopping: the work of our hands is kind of amazing. All those people living off, fully or partially, the work of their hands is amazing. And even if it's a little thing, at this time of year, it holds back the dark.

And this got stealthily profound, so I'm off to start some bread and clean the bathroom with the radio up loud, because there is entropy to fight, in that implacable way one does.
July 31, 2010 Progress Notes:

"Orientation Day"

Words today: 650.
Words total: 650.
Reason for stopping: Draft.

Books in progress: Roberto Bolano, The Savage Detectives.
The glamour: Pretty casual, today. Mostly just writing, watching The Wire, and picking at the knitting project I'm working on. At some point later I should take some books over to the BMV, though. And buy some fruit, because I'm down to lemons. And write some more.

And here's that DVD extra. The end was eluding me last night.

I have this notion that I can knock off a few more of these this weekend and reduce my deadline-load thereby. The idea's looking terribly attractive right now.

Let's see how things go after I get that fruit.
leahbobet: (gardening)
Yesterday was my 28th birthday, and for my birthday I went to [ profile] kiviuq's book launch, utterly failed to get blocking pins for my lace shawl that I wish to block, had a loffly Buddha Bowl and a lavender chocolate cupcake for dinner at Fresh, and then had a party with The People, various regiments and divisions, at The Central. It was good! We had fun! Madeline almost made me spit a drink I laughed so hard!

Overall, good birthday. Laid-back. Nice. :)

Today was the Mother's Day/Leah's Birthday Combined Annual Dinner (this happens a lot) at my parents' place. There was barbeque, gluten-free dairy-free chocolate cake which was nonetheless really good (my mom can't have dairy, my grandmother can't have gluten) and presents. My sister got me a really nice book about the history of tea. There was, in fact, tea.

Since my mother, grandmother, and great-aunt were downtown this afternoon with my grandmother's old ladies' social group seeing a Music of Gershwin show, it was decided that the easiest way to get up to my parents' place in the 'burbs was to take the bus back up to my grandmother's apartment building with the rest of said retired social group and families. My mom and I sat at the back of the bus doing stuff like this:

Me: Oh look, it's Shoppers Drug Mart. (points out the window to office building with Shoppers logo) I choose to believe that that's actually not a head office, but just a really, really big drugstore with every kind of toiletpaper in the universe. Twelve floors of toiletpaper.

Mom: It's twelve floors of tampons, and when it rains, it's 24 floors.

(Both collapse into hysterical laughter) now you know who's responsible for me being how I am. Happy Mother's Day. *g*
March 21, 2010 Progress Notes:


Words today: 1550.
Words total: 9450.
Reason for stopping: Draft, dammit.

Darling du Jour: His mouth was stained red. Some of it was thin and some thick, drying; it'd all stain. Her hand stung, burned on three flat points on the ridge of each long finger; some of it was hers.

Mean Things: A serious risk; actually, a damned stupid risk. The way kindness cuts. And of course, wendigoes.
Research Roundup: N/A.

Books in progress: Gemma Files, A Book of Tongues.
The glamour: Copious! Brunch this morning with [ profile] ksumnersmith and [ profile] ginny_t, which was plentiful, copious, and nom nom nom nom. Really, people: french toast with caramelized raisins and cinnamon, and shaved roast beef, and pain au chocolat, and chicken and sage breakfast sausages, and an omelette station, and cheese and fruit and Thai beef salad and couscous and crab salad and shrimp and poached salmon and eggs and and and and. And after that there was Crafternoon Tea with [ profile] ginny_t and [ profile] shiroiko, which involved homemade scones and a lot of sitting around knitting/crocheting and shooting the shit.

I'll take ten more of those, please.

Finished. Done. Finito. Suck it, story.

The ending's drafty, and I'm not sure I hit my emotional note right, but fuckit, I'll fix it on the second draft once the first readers have had their say.

This is so way too long. I'm going to need to throw it to some of the People What Know, to find out if it can be cut or if I just need to suck it up and write the anthology it was supposed to go to a new story.

But yes. I win.

Going to bed. *g*

Laptop Debt Kill:

10500 / 17000 words. 62% done!
March 20, 2010 Progress Notes:


Words today: 600.
Words total: 7900. Yeah, this doesn't match, but my math got mussed somewhere.
Reason for stopping: I'm on the last scene, I'm a bit stuck, it's 11:00, and I want to knit and watch cartoons. I'll finish the story tomorrow.

Darling du Jour: "I looked into his eyes," she said, swallowing back the thought of fingers snapped at the bottommost joint, of intestines looped and gnawed, teethmarks like wolves'.

Mean Things: Dem bones dem bones dem huuuuman bones. Sometimes taking the high road really sucks balls.
Research Roundup: Dene family names -- needed one more -- and whether I can attest a traditional Dene cure for wendigoes. It's looking like that's a no.

Books in progress: Gemma Files, A Book of Tongues.
The glamour: Went to Christian Cameron's book launch this afternoon at the bookstore, before which I picked up some size 15 straight needles for the shawl I want to knit and after which, I had dinner at Fresh with [ profile] thesandtiger. Getting a table at Fresh is an accomplishment these days.

Just a very little bit to go on this, but it requires an emotional intensity and care I don't actually have after a full day out and about. I'm out most of tomorrow too, but there should be enough left in the tank after that to finish this one off. It's officially too long for the anthology it was supposed to go to, so hopefully I can manage some cuts in the second draft. Or I'll have to write him another story inside five weeks. Erk.

(Ladies and gents, the glamorous writing life.)

Laptop Debt Kill:

8950 / 17000 words. 53% done!
February 16, 2010 Progress Notes:

The Enchanted Generation

Words today: 250.
Words total: 1850.
Reason for stopping: I was going to push for 400 tonight, but according to this memo I just received, I'm really tired.

Darling du Jour: Silly child's nicknames; Emily Ellis-Bell, secret lady authoress. Edgar Tom-O'Bedlam, whirling rag-clad dervish of the blasted Oxfordshire heath, who disarmed his worse brother with branches fallen from the old oak tree.

Mean Things: People got old while you were away. Ouch.
Research Roundup: Edgar's role in King Lear, a decent summary of Wuthering Heights, whether "dervish" was in the English language in 1919.
Books in progress: Paolo Bacigalupi, The Windup Girl.
The glamour: Dayjob, some errands after, dutiful knitting on Gift Socks.

My base texts for this so far seem to be Testament of Youth, Sleeping Beauty, and King Lear. Make of that what you will. Also, my backbrain connects up the damnedest things in subtle-yet-blinding ways. It's nice when it lets me into the loop on that.

Other things!

[ profile] douglascohen is still doing his ROF Retrospectives, and he's hit the issue with "Lost Wax" in it. Small commentary behind the link.

This gentleman is apparently literary-boxing me. This could explain why I am tired. *g*

Apparently I am one of 25 Authors Worth Watching in 2010 and Beyond. Huh. Cool. I will attempt to be worth watching so as to not disappoint. It's good company, too, and I'm looking forward to seeing how his spotlight series goes.

Finally, I figured out what that laptop cost me in SFWA pro-rates wordcount. I give you: the Great 2010 Laptop Debt Kill!

1150 / 17000 words. 7% done!

Yes, that is entirely for my own amusement.

Goodnight, internet. This concludes our broadcasting day. :)
December 4, 2009 Progress Notes:


Words today: -200. Yes, that was progress.
Words total: 11,800.

Reason for stopping: It's late, I'm still exhausted, and I have to both do groceries and go to a thing at the Merrill tomorrow afternoon and can't just sleep until two.

Darling du Jour: N/A.

Things Yet to Cough Up Their Names: The band name Zeke and Gregory have been gigging under; the somewhat tragic singer of Gregory's old band; the name of Gregory's old band, for that matter; some song titles penned by Zeke.
Mean Things: N/A.

Books in progress: Paolo Bacigalupi, The Windup Girl.
The glamour: Finding out that next week at the Dayjob could possibly -- yes, inconceivable as it may sound -- be worse than this week. Oh lordy.

Luckily, I could dose myself with leftover Indian takeout and two hours of sustained knitting before I did harm to myself or others. Just think of it as reaching the antivenin on time.

So here's the reason why you read and keep the negative reviews too, not just the positive ones.

Sometimes the negative reviews accuse the story of something that you, when you look back on it (having vaguely not liked that story anymore for years anyway, but not having thought much of why) find to be not without merit. And then turning it over in bed while you're having your awful sinus-headache stress-induced insomnia like we did this week, you idly wonder how you'd treat the topic now, if you were coming at it again. And realize that you have a backburnered novel project that's dealing with that topic now. And some things start to make themselves clear, and then you have to hop out of bed, fumble for your glasses, and scribble a page of notes in the dark at two in the morning so you don't lose all that good stuff.

Or, short version? The damnedest things can be super valuable to building a stubborn, moody book.

So. The structure telescoped back in for me a little while back; the thing I thought was the end is very possibly the beginning of the middle. Come to think of it, this always happens. But it explains a lot about why I was having so much damn trouble shoveling enough dirt into that black hole where the plot was supposed to live.

With that information in mind, I think I found in earnest where I took the wrong turn here: basically, yeah, I still held the Royal Commission on the Plot, just under suppressed circumstances, and there's a lot of explaining things to myself in this chapter and consequently, going the wrong way in search of some plot. So once I got sufficiently over wanting to kill and eat people because of the Dayjob, I started trimming and moving stuff around and recasting and such.

I'm not going to say I'm officially working on this again. Frankly, I am still way too busy right now and I still like "When Your Number Isn't Up" more and I still have to finish "Closet Monster" and turn it in before I can really commit myself to anything else consistently. But I will noodle. And we will see.
November 26, 2009 Progress Notes:

"The Closet Monster"

Words today: 100.
Words total: 2200.
Reason for stopping: Didn't really have much in me today.

Books in progress: Mary Doria Russell, The Sparrow.
The glamour: Dizziness, headache, and fever. Whee.

This is sort of the acknowledgment of a Token Effort (tm). I was out sick yesterday and had to leave work after two and a half hours today, so my only output for both is those words, a little bit of pasta, and about six inches of purple bamboo shrug. The words were so I didn't feel totally useless.

Heading to bed. This was my last full-paid sick day this year, so my ass is expected au Dayjob tomorrow morning.
Out this afternoon/evening at the ChiZine Publications double-barrelled two-part book launch -- one at the bookstore, one at The Central on Markham -- wherein I saw a good bucket of people, conversed on subjects from publishing in general to the difference between swear words in Quebecois French and France French to how Lester B. Pearson is a superhero but nobody seems to realize it, and had a nice cup of tea (Tuscany Pear). In between these things was dinner with [ profile] devils_exercise and Karen and friends of theirs who have the awesomest 13-year-old daughter, and a trip to Romni, where yarn fell into my bag and money fell out. Oops.

(This was technically only half a yarn accident: I had gone specifically for the bamboo stuff I bought and saw Fitted Knits there and had already decided I wanted it, so that was fine. It's the two skeins of Punta Yarns Merisock at $20 a skein that brings the accident into yarn accident. It was really, really blue. I couldn't help it. It just happened.)

Headed home because it was stuffy and I was getting a monster headache, but I seem to actually like and enjoy extended bouts of social these days. Go figure.

And now, going to make some hot chocolate, take something to stave off the headache, and see if I can't squeeze some words out. Stay tuned.

And home.

Oct. 25th, 2009 09:26 pm
I am back! The train got in about 5:30 pm, so I was home a little before 6:00, and have spent the intervening hours checking in with my mother,* ordering and devouring some sushi since there is no food in this apartment except English muffins, catching up on e-mail and Ideo tasks that piled up over the weekend, and watching last week's CM while working a bit on my tank top.

And now that I'm actually on an internet-connected computer I, well, own, there are a few pictures:

Look, it's Parliament Hill! I didn't get to go inside there, but that's it!

Ottawa, while rainy, is all fall colour right now, and given all the parks and such it was extremely gorgeous.

Also, I took a few shots at the War Museum, in the interests of quick notetaking for things I found interesting:

Evil Royal Crochet! They had the scarf in a case right next to the explanatory note. Really, it kinda wasn't all that; kind of brown and fairly basic. I suspect Queen Victoria was knitting from stash.

This is both 1) dead cool and 2) a dirty trick later on. I am in process of finding out if it was only a requirement of the Canadian Forces or if that held for other Commonwealth or Allied countries.

This was broken that day.

I...kind of admit I was glad.

And here's the coffeeshop, after, and the furious notes I was taking. The flash washing out what those notes actually are is, in fact, SpoilerVision (tm). :D

Overall, this was a pretty satisfactory trip. And I'm back at work tomorrow, so thus endeth the great 2009 Week Off of Partial Debauch.**

*She appreciates knowing I am not dead after travel. She will not ever put it that way, but it's the Not Dead Call.

*Yeah, I know I Debauch like an old woman.
I have been working on (or ripping back, or fixing, or swearing at, or throwing under the couch for a month and ignoring spitefully) my Ms. Marigold sweater since the middle of February of this year.

No longer!

(Yes, there is a towel on my bedroom floor. Don't judge me!)

Considering how much hatred poured between me and this project in a glowing, red-eyed circuit of disdain, it actually looks pretty damn hot and fits really nicely. The sweater will now happily live out its days in circulation with my winter clothes, shedding red baby alpaca fibers on everything with which it comes into contact.
leahbobet: (gardening)
So I have these awesome socks. They're black and white and blue and lavender and stripey, in a kind of understated and yet still whee! kind of way, and I only wear them for awesome days when I need luck or skill or extra awesome so as to conserve their superpowers. 'Cause they make me feel cool, and you can't really overstate the power of that.

Today I had a brunch date with a friend I haven't seen in something like 12 years (who I ran into completely randomly at Worldcon of all places, and we thus made plans to get together now that her thesis is written), and I reached for my awesome socks, and then went, "Self, does this day, which is fairly laid-back and contains no expectations upon your person, really merit awesome socks?" And then I figured eh, screw it, I want to be awesome today. Just 'cause.

Socks win again.

Brunch was awesome, and friend and I probably get along even better as grownups than we did at 15 or thereabouts, which is really neat and smiley and cool. And since it was a lovely sunny crisp fall day and I was already on Spadina, after brunch I walked down to the bookstore for Violette Malan's signing and hung out for an hour or two. Picked up both The Windup Girl and Octavia Butler's Fledgling while there. And then I wasn't finding myself quite ready to go home, so I tucked into Tequila Bookworm, got an avocado-asiago-walnuts-stuff salad and some fresh lemonade, and knitted in the sunshine until I ran out of sunshine.

Best thing? I have all week to do stuff like this. Because I'm on vacation this week.


And now I'm home and still a little peckish, and there's hockey on, so I think I'll turn that up and fix a pot of soup or somesuch and just roll in my awesome day a little bit longer...

They took a long time. But they are warm.

Next, I return to the scene of my unfinished sweater and conquer that shit.
Toronto knitters? I'm doing a Knitpicks order probably around the first of October, once the rent clears. Monkey needs size 10 circulars!

Anyone else want to split the shipping? Just leave what you'd like in comments here, and I'll crunch the math.
The balance of this evening has been spent in:

1) Knitting my socks; and
2) Mainlining the first season of Slings and Arrows.


1) My socks now have heels and go up to the ankle and are in the home stretch;
2) Paul Gross is proof that this is in fact a loving universe;
3) And oh my God I miss doing theatre.*

I wonder if I can clone myself, bend time, and find myself a community company...

*Yes, folks, she used to do theatre. Had a killer Lady Capulet, too.
August 27, 2009 Progress Notes:


Words today: 1000.
Words total: 11,400.
Reason for stopping: Sleeping half the day or not, I should go to bed. Ugh.

Darling du Jour: It was inevitable. You do not teach a thing hunger, teach a thing to feed from your hand, and expect it to leave you an elbow.

Things Yet to Cough Up Their Names: The band name Zeke and Gregory have been gigging under; the somewhat tragic singer of Gregory's old band.
Mean Things: Gregory's getting a little territorial. And to be fair, this is not a part of his life where Zeke's ever stuck his nose before, so that there are going to be hurt feelings on all sides shortly is probably a foregone conclusion. Also, in the past/future, someone's arm just got munched off.

Books in progress: Daniel Rabuzzi, The Choir Boats; Catherine Bush, Minus Time.
The glamour: Home sick today with a head cold, which I have chased up into my sinuses from my throat and hopefully cornered there for a fatal last stand. Nonetheless, feeling woozy and stupid most of the day (when I wasn't sleeping), which meant I mostly sat in my pajamas, watched Hustle, and worked on my socks, which are just about at the point where I need to start the heel.

I'm actually shocked I had enough brain in me to spit this out, but I've been getting behind this week, so it's for the best.

Most likely, more mainlining soup, more socks, more Mickey Bricks, and more sleeping like a rock tomorrow, since I'm spending my sick days like they're going out of style. I'd just better not get swine flu between now and December.
August 17, 2009 Progress Notes:


Words today: 600.
Words total: 8900.
Reason for stopping: I actually overshot the goal by a touch, and it's the inevitable 1:00 am.

Darling du Jour: Her throat worked. He could see the veins in it through the skin, blue as her chipped nailpolish, cradling the tendons of her neck like creeping ivy.

Things Yet to Cough Up Their Names: The Pendulum's owner, who apparently owes Zeke precisely two favours (Mercutio Walker); the band name Zeke and Gregory have been gigging under; Gregory and Zeke's once very Art-Deco and trendy, now hopelessly run-down and seedy but still kind of awesome neighbourhood.
Gratuitous Baby-Eating References Inserted Into Scene: One (1).
Mean Things: That kind of cleaning crisis where you're fine living in filth usually, and then a cute girl shows up and you're edging the dirty socks under the couch and feeling absurdly, embarrassingly like your mother.
Research Roundup: Traditional anniversary gifts; Mercury and Roman gods of hospitality;
crossroads myths.

Books in progress: Daniel Rabuzzi, The Choir Boats; William Gibson, Spook Country.
The glamour: Some businessy stuff that I wanted to turn around quick. Also, this evening was my annual rewatching of The Princess Bride while sacked out on the couch knitting my socks. At this advanced age I can see just how middling the production quality of the thing is, and yet I completely don't care. :)

This is probably more work than it looks like, even though I did spend the better part of my evening watching TVlike objects and knitting (which is the only way I can not get restless and feel like I'm dicking around while watching TVlike objects). Some small but non-trivial plotting for the next chapter or two went in tonight, as well as two little revelations that I thought of half-asleep on alternate nights this weekend, structural things. Next, we stir.

I am finding myself absurdly grateful for my random OCD need to do these very metrics posts. I spent a bit of tonight charting the work gap and habits for Above, and then looking at where I've started and stopped with Saturnalia. Apparently when I was writing Above I slapped down 10k and then just ignored it for six months. This gives me a better idea of what to expect around these parts, although I hope this time it doesn't take six months.

Civ4 is proving eminently distracting. I may have an O Lord, What Have I Done? moment if it keeps up through the week. 0.0

Bed now. Dayjob tomorrow. No rest for the wicked past her 8:00 alarm.
Okay, kids. Let me tell you a story.

One day last summer [ profile] ksumnersmith and I were strolling through Kensington Market, past Lettuce Knit (a very nice yarn store, and worthy of your consideration) and I saw a sign in the window that said Crochet Friendly. I remarked on this sign, and what I felt to be the redundancy of it -- I mean, it's a yarn store, are they crochet-unfriendly? -- and Karina, who does crochet, told me that no, actually, they can be. Crochet is, in a lot of fiber arts circles, thought of as some cheap knockoff non-craft, and knitters used to or maybe still do scorn it, and yarn stores would sometimes not sell nice yarn to crocheters because they'd "just be wasting it".

There was a knitter-versus-crocheter slapfight. Seriously.

I think I burst into tears I laughed so hard.

Why? Because 99.9% of the people in the world cannot tell the difference between knitting and crocheting. And they don't give a shit. It's totally inconsequential to them. And that?

That is every slapfight ever.

I tell you this story so that, tonight and in future, when I point to something, howling with laughter that I can't even keep in by slapping both hands over my mouth, and yelling Evil Crochet! Evil Crochet! you know exactly what I'm saying about the issue. Because I am on the whole an advocate of people being passionate about the things they are passionate about, and letting one's freak flag fly, and am on the whole opposed to pointing and laughing at people for being passionate, which is the founding principle of Fandom Wank. Not down with that.

But y'know? A shot of perspective is good for the soul.

We should never get so narrow that we can't step back and laugh at our damn fool selves being big damn fools.
leahbobet: (gardening)
From the garden this evening:

Also, I started knitting my first pair of socks today while at [ profile] cszego's, where we had our Canada Day lunch/picnic thing/hang around and eat and chatter party. They are purple and green and lovely. I have already messed up the toes a little, but this just means the toes will be a bit pointy.

This evening, there will be farmer's market cherries and revisions.

Since today is the first day of the rest of your life second half of 2009, I think that's a pretty good halftime show.
My life is honestly more interesting when I am actively writing a novel. I really do not do directionless very well.

The past week or so has mostly consisted of knitting my Ms. Marigold, aka The Neverending Sweater, some puttering in the garden, some puttering in other people's gardens (the weeding and replanting of the city planter outside my building that I mentioned last week), seeing Terminator: Salvation for [ profile] ksumnersmith's birthday, dayjobbery in volume, jumping through necessary hoops to renew my passport in time for Readercon (which I haven't heard from re: panels yet; this may be a cause for e-mail-bouncing concern), a binge viewing of Life on Mars series 2, and reading more WWI books. Actually, if you ever find yourself wondering what I'm doing for some inexplicable reason, it's probably puttering in my garden, knitting my neverending sweater, reading up on the First World War, and wishing I had a reliable writing project ready so I could be doing some real work.

Yeah, about that exciting around here.

Clockwork Phoenix 2 did get a starred Publishers Weekly review, which [ profile] time_shark already blogged, but which I shall reproduce:
Clockwork Phoenix 2: More Tales of Beauty and Strangeness Edited by Mike Allen. Norilana/Fantasy (, $11.95 paper (296p) ISBN 978-1-60762-027-3

Allen finds his groove for this second annual anthology of weird stories, selecting 16 wonderfully evocative, well-written tales. Marie Brennan's thought-provoking “Once a Goddess” considers the fate of a goddess abruptly returned to mortality. Tanith Lee puts a stunning twist in the story of a morose prince in “The Pain of Glass.” Mary Robinette Kowal's “At the Edge of Dying” describes a world where magic comes only to those at death's door. In “Hooves and the Hovel of Abdel Jameela,” Saladin Ahmed tells of a small village on the edge of a desert, a hermit and a woman who may be a witch. Each story fits neatly alongside the next, and the diversity of topics, perspectives and authors makes this cosmopolitan anthology a winner. (July)

I also got a rather vociferously negative review on "Miles to Isengard" from Gardner Dozois in the May issue of Locus, which I will also dig out and reproduce here if you, the populace, are interested.

Now I will go find dinner. Or wear my trousers rolled. Or something.

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