Fun News!

As you can see from the image above, When Dragons Rage has made it into French! Marc Simonetti did the cover for Milady and I love it. The book hit the stands in November—Nina Peacock actually had a picture of it on a shelf, which was the first I knew it was out. There’s something indescribably wonderful about holding a foreign edition of a book in your hands, and Milady is great about getting comp copies sent out fast. (I actually had these in time to haul one to Vermont for the holidays and give it to my folks.)

Variant Frequencies has produced a version of my story “A Real Christmas” for their podcast. It might seem a bit late for a Christmas story, but this one is a bit different. I was overjoyed when Rick Stringer agreed to take it. Variant Frequencies does stunning stuff—and wins Parsec Awards each year for their work, so you’ll want to check this one out.

Lastly, in fun news, my cold seems to be going away. I just am not a very good patient. Rick had written to ask me if I had a podcast promo that he could bundle with my story, but I was in the middle of laryngitis, so I couldn’t record something up. And as those who attended office hours in Second Life last week know, I could talk for a bit, then would cough or have to catch a drink of water, just to keep the throat working.

What’s weird about laryngitis is that even though I spend the vast majority of my time alone, I guess I do a fair amount of talking. For the better part of three days, I spoke to no one in any substantive way. Sure, I had to make a run to the drugstore, and whispered a “thank you,” here and there, but that’s hardly conversation. I couldn’t and didn’t call anyone and despite having friends to chat with online, this led to a profound sense of isolation.

It’s the kind of thing that causes one to question ones own existence—not in a philosophical way, but literally because of how we’re wired. As social creatures, without some external acknowledgment of our existence, we do wonder if we’re here at all. (As a survival trait, this makes sense, and leads one to find others, which increases the chances of passing on genetic material.) Despite being in the 6th largest city in the United States, I felt incredibly alone—and that is a sense I’ve catalogued to use in a story somehow.

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