This guy’s house is incredible. I wonder how his income compares to his neighbors’…
I check the date of the last blog entry and realize it’s a week old.
Wow. What happened to that week?
Alarm goes off at 4:30. I ignore it because it’s Sunday — even though I don’t ignore it most Sundays.
I honestly don’t know how deep it goes here, but it’s something to be aware of. I personally pre-ordered the $75 edition of Perdido Street Station from Night Shade Books three years ago and when I finally called they said they had no record of the transaction. I can also add the anecdotal story that my submission to them for the “The Last Page” went unanswered for something like a year. They never even responded when I finally emailed them to tell them that I was shopping the book elsewhere.
Yea! Galleys are here. And they even came early. That means if you have a blog or something and want to write a review I’ll happily send you one. I’m sure my book would make a stunning feature on your site. Just drop me an email, the unknown guy that’s never been published before, living in Texas.
The Muse, if s/he exists, is not a lovely cherubic or seraphic thing that whispers in my ear. Loveliness pouring in? The whole metaphor is just wrong.