Jan. 3rd, 2017 11:21 pm
seanan_mcguire: (rose marshall)
The night before New Year's Eve, Thomas stopped eating or drinking. He was listless, and had no interest in being snuggled or engaging in favorite activities, like playing with the water. The morning of New Year's Eve, we called around until we found an open vet who could see him right away. They diagnosed him with constipation and a mild obstruction, gave him laxatives and anti-nausea drugs, and sent him home.

He got worse.

New Year's Day, we went to a vet closer to home, where he received an enema, more anti-nausea medication, and a second examination. By this point, he had lost quite a bit of weight, and was visibly unwell. Still, he rallied after treatment, and was sent home.

He got worse.

Yesterday, we were finally referred to the emergency vet, where an ultrasound revealed a mass obstructing his small intestine. Surgery happened that night. There was no necrosis, and the mass (a congealed, compressed hairball) was successfully removed. He ran a fever for some time afterward, but this responded well to antibiotics, and went down. He was not sent home.

Thomas is currently hospitalized for recovery. His digestive system is not working properly; he has not had any food in four days, although he is able to receive subcutaneous fluids. He is not out of the woods. The woods are dark and deep and full of wolves, and I am so scared, and he is so sick. My baby boy is so sick. I don't have children: I have my cats. They are the world to me, and I am so afraid right now. So please. If I am quiet, if I am slow, if I am a little off from what you expect, be kind to me.

I am waiting for the sky to fall.
seanan_mcguire: (alice)
Seven years ago today, my beloved Maine Coon girl, Alice, came into the world. We met ten days later. It was love at first sight, for me; for her, I was another large, lumbering thumb-beast to trouble her.

Things remain much the same today.

As I type this, Alice is nearby, being vast and content and absolutely at ease with her world. She is Best Cat, and as I often tell her, my very favorite thing.

Here's to seven more, baby girl.
seanan_mcguire: (alice)
Today is Alice Price-Healy Little Liddel Abernathy McGuire's sixth birthday.

Alice is a blue classic tabby and white Maine Coon, bred by Betsy Tinney of Pinecoon Maine Coons in Seattle. She was my first Maine Coon (although not my only for very long), and I'm not kidding when I say that it was love at first sight. It still is.

Alice is stubborn, sweet, intractable, opinionated, devoted, loving, my little angel, my little devil, and often threatened with becoming mittens. Like a toddler, she never wants love more than when I get on the phone. She's sassy and awful and sometimes takes showers with me, and she's probably the best cat I've ever had. A year with Alice is worth five with any other cat, and I've had six of them.

Happy birthday, my terrible girl. Let's have at least ten more.
seanan_mcguire: (me)
Slasher Chicks shirts.

I have opened a new Slasher Chicks tank top sales post right over here. While I won't say with 100% certainty that there's not a shirt mistakenly shoved into a different box, so far as I am aware, the currently posted numbers represent all the remaining stock of this design. Once they're gone they're gone, unless I find a really good reason to reprint, and even if I do, that won't be happening for a year or more (probably more). So check it out! They're great, soft, fitted tanks, stretchy and comfy and cool.

But wait, there's more.

If you do decide to buy a tank top for yourself or as a Hogswatch gift, I will tell you to PayPal an email address, and ask you to send your mailing info via my contact form. What this means is that I need you to PayPal an email address, and send your mailing info via my contact form. My PayPal is connected to a very old email account that doesn't include a graphic mail client, and extracting shipping info from PayPal notifications is borderline impossible. Meaning I won't mail your shirt until I receive an email with your contact info.

More old ARCs!

I have some leftover ARCs of The Winter Long for the crafters and creative people of the world to claim and enjoy. Because they're heavy, I would prefer to only mail them domestically, as I will have to charge postage; basically, it would be cheaper to buy a new paperback and cut that up if you're in a country other than the US. (I say "prefer" because sometimes you really need an ARC for a specific craft. Like the friend in England who turned one of my ARCs into paper roses for her wedding bouquet.)

As I said above, I do need to charge postage this time, so it'll be $5 for an ARC to a US address, and postage to be determined for an ARC to anywhere else. I won't sign them; these are intended for craft use, not collectable use. Comment with your location if you want one.

Shirt status.

Still not on my doorstep.

Monster High status.

Looking for the entire Haunted Line, looking for all Gloom and Bloom except for Jane Boolittle, looking for Freaky Field Trip, not looking for Geek Shriek because fuck that line.

Cat status.


What's new and cool in the land of you?
seanan_mcguire: (pony)
So from the day I arrived in Europe, when people asked for my itinerary, it included Swindon. And from the day I arrived in Europe, "I'm going to Swindon for two weeks," was greeted with "why?"

At the end of my (glorious, exciting, restful) stay in Glasgow, Stuart drove me and Amal to the train station, where she walked me through the process of getting my ticket and locating my train. This is more complicated than you might think, especially when it's happening in a country where you don't actually happen to live, and which is hence perpetually confusing. My friend Hisham had assisted me with the booking process and told me how to find my seat (also more confusing than you might think), and in short order I was squared away on the train, where I hugged Amal goodbye several times before settling down to watch Leverage for most of the duration of the six-hour trip.

(Kate's old iPad basically saved my sanity on long stretches of this voyage, I swear.)

I was about two hours in when a hand tapped my shoulder and there was Hisham, who had hopped on to ride with me for a while (he works for the trains). He brought me Coke Zero and cookies, thus cementing his position as one of my favorite humans. He also brought me Pokemon, and we passed a pleasant hour or so trading electronic monsters and chatting about all manner of things. It was awesome, and I enjoyed it a lot. I like friends on trains. It makes the time go faster.

Alas, eventually he had to leave me, and I finished the rest of my journey in electronic silence, pulling into the stop at Bristol Parkway about five and a half hours after I left Glasgow. Talis was waiting for me there, wearing a splendid scarf printed with bees. After hugs and happy exclamations, she helped me transfer my suitcase to my second and final train, and we rode on to Swindon, where we caught a cab to my true destination: the village of Wroughton.

Wroughton is close enough to Swindon that it was easier to say I was going there, but in reality, it's a lovely little village where everything is within walking distance (except for the big new Waitrose), and where everyone knows Talis, who has been getting more and more active in local politics over the years. I was staying in her upstairs guest bedroom, on a narrow bed that looked like an ascetic's cot and felt like the clouds of heaven. Her husband, Simon, was in France when I arrived, meaning it was just me, Talis, and their lovely daughter, Pippa, who I hadn't spent any real time with since she was a toddler.

Even the highlights of my time in Wroughton seem so big and complex that they're hard to wrap my mind around. I went to country market. I performed with Talis at the Greener Gloucester Festival. I went to two folk clubs with Talis and her singing partner, Chantelle. I ate a lot of Victoria sponge, and drank a lot of rose lemonade. I made chicken stock and then chicken soup, which was delicious. I went to Cheddar, and saw cheese being born. I stroked the two resident black and white magpie boycats.

I chased and caught so many frogs and toads, and ate eggs I had pulled from under chickens, and harvested raspberries and blackberries from the vine into my mouth, and it was wonderful. It was restorative and peaceful and glorious and perfect, and I am so grateful. So, so grateful.

I love my friends. I love my life. And I loved the frogs.

I'm going back next year.
seanan_mcguire: (indexing)
First, and somewhat amusingly, given my last post, reply amnesty is on for this entry. I will not respond to comments. I may not even read them. I don't know yet. Please do not email me or message me privately about the contents of this entry. I really need some space.

Second, I said yesterday that I was dealing with some shit. Here is the shit.

On the morning of Wednesday, July 23rd, I was with Carrie and Doc in Southern California, having spent the night at Doc's place preparatory to heading for San Diego Comic Con around noon. I was reading comics in the front room when my phone rang. I said something foul about the phone ringing, because I did not want to get up. I got up. It was my mother, who was also my designated cat sitter.

Something was very, very wrong with Lilly.

She was having seizures, foaming at the mouth, hissing, and biting. There was blood. Mom, knowing that none of this could mean anything good, asked for my permission to take her to the vet. "She may not come home" was not said; it didn't need to be. I gave my permission. There was nothing else I could do. I was very far away, and I couldn't possibly get home in time, and Lilly deserved better than to suffer for the amount of time it would have taken for me to catch a plane. I gave my permission. And then I hung up, and sat down on the bathroom floor, and sobbed until I wanted to be sick, because I wasn't there.

My mother contacted me again roughly three hours later to tell me that Lilly had lost all kidney function; that the vet had recommended euthanasia, as the collapse had been so abrupt and so complete; and that she had given permission. A lot of people gave permission that day. I thanked her. How could I do anything else? She was there for my girl when I couldn't be. She made sure that Lilly didn't suffer more than she needed to. So I thanked her, and I sat in the back of Doc's car and cried all the way to San Diego.

I think I got through the convention mostly because it didn't seem real. Lilly couldn't be dead; she had been there when I left, and she would be there when I got home. But when I got home, Lilly wasn't there. Lilly is never going to be here again. She's never going to lick my elbows or share my ice cream or burrow under my blankets. She's not hiding, or sleeping in a sunbeam somewhere. She's gone, and I wasn't home when it happened, and the thought of her dying without me with her makes me want to crawl into bed and never get out again.

Lilly was a great cat. All she wanted was to hang out with me, and be held, and be loved. I loved her so much. I hate me in the past for all the times I didn't hold her when she asked, all the times I was too busy to cuddle with her until she was done. I miss her so bad. I am still reeling.

Alice and Thomas are well, if confused. They help to blunt the pain a little. Not enough, but a little.

I miss my girl.
seanan_mcguire: (alice)
Today is Thomas's fourth birthday. We have celebrated with treats and petting and much indulgence, all of which he has accepted as his absolute due. He doesn't really know what "happy birthday" means, but as it comes with good things, he really doesn't care.

He's enormous now. He has vast, spatulate paws that can work a doorknob, and a high, chirpy voice, like he's gargling songbirds. He likes to be held while I'm at the computer, just so he can prove that he is more important than the tappy box. He enjoys watching videos of birds, and will sometimes sing to them, because he is a bird too. He is my best boy, and I can't imagine life without him.

Happy birthday, Thomas.

We're gonna enjoy a whole lot more.
seanan_mcguire: (coyote)

Okay: it looks like there is sufficient interest in a second run of Wicked Girls shirts, and we will be doing a third run. The ordering period will run from May 31 through June 30, since that may allow me to receive and ship shirts before I leave for six weeks in Europe. (If it does not, we will explore other shipping options, including sending all the stock to Seattle and making Vixy ship it. That way, you should have your shirts before Halloween, which always strikes me as a good goal.) Details will be provided in the ordering post; please don't ask for them here.


The cats have almost recovered from my last trip, which is nice. Alice is still prone to flinging herself into my lap while trilling dramatically, and it's rare for me to not have at least two of them in the room. Naturally, this means...


...that it's time for me to head out again. I'll be at Phoenix Comic Con next weekend, having a splendid time, and—most exciting of all—performing with Paul and Storm. Yes! I get to perform with them! I am super-excited, and I really can't wait. I hope all of you who have the opportunity will come out and see us.


I just sent in a restock of Wicked Girls to CD Baby. I know, right? They're only receiving seven copies, so if you've been waiting for the chance to order one, watch their site over the next week or so. They still have Stars Fall Home in stock, and I'm hoping they'll run out before I leave for Europe, so I can get that restocked as well. They make great gifts!


I am still replying to email about posters. I'm about to run out of poster tubes, which is why it's going slowly; I don't want to receive payment and then go "sorry, it'll be a week before I can send you anything." On the plus side, yay demand. On the minus side, I can't magic up postal supplies yet. I do still have posters left, so if you'd been thinking about ordering, feel free to email me.


I highly recommend the new movie. I have...thoughts...about it, but I really enjoyed every moment that Mr. Zils spent on the screen, King of Monstersing his way around. A+ kaiju would destroy again. Also now I want to write a kaiju novel. Dammit.

Cake Bake Betty.

Their new album, Songs About Teeth, is awesome. Like a femrock Ludo with folk influences.

That is all.
seanan_mcguire: (ashes2)
Tip jar results.

All things have been totaled (at long last), and the results of the latest tip jar are in, coming to a princely $1,187. I am still awed and amazed by the generosity of my readers. You've allowed me to prioritize finishing three InCryptid stories over the next three months:

"Oh Pretty Bird"
"Bury Me In Satin"

These will be going up around the start of June, July, and August, respectively; "IM" focuses on Artie, while "Oh Pretty Bird" and "Bury Me In Satin" are both from the Johnny and Fran era. (That era is sadly coming to a close very soon: there are only three stories remaining to be written. I'm going to miss her. The first of those stories, "Snakes and Ladders," has also been prioritized.)

Upcoming appearances.

The book release party for Sparrow Hill Road will be taking place at Borderlands Books on Saturday, May 10th, starting at 5:00pm. There will be cupcakes! I'm actually planning to do a reading! Truly, it is a time of wonders. If you're unable to attend, remember that Borderlands takes orders both via the Internet and over the phone, and would be happy to hook you up with a signed and personalized book.

(If you're not attending and are planning to have me sign a book for you, please, please contact the store before the event date. I realized recently that some of y'all may not realize that I actually live an hour's drive from San Francisco, which means that—now that I don't have a day job—I can't just nip in to sign a few things before I head home. I don't want you to have to wait for your books because you called after I had already left the city!)


They are. So mad.

Seriously, you have not seen anger like the anger of cats who are being left on the regular because their human needs to travel. I've managed to have at least a week at home every month so far this year, but they're pissed off, and I can't blame them. Poor babies. Also, it's summer, and if there's one thing Maine Coons hate, it's the coming of the summer. (Lilly and Lizzy don't mind as much. Ah, the joy of not being longhairs.)

More to come soon, and happy May!
seanan_mcguire: (indexing)
Well, here I am updating again to say that I'm leaving. This is becoming something of a habit. (I know exactly why. I didn't travel much for like, four years, so this year has become a whirlwind of going everywhere and seeing everything and trying to do it all without losing my grip on things like deadlines and word counts and TV schedules. It'll settle down soon enough. But right now, it seems like I only update this blog when I'm about to hit the ground running.)

And what a run it's going to be! I'm Guest of Honor at Norwescon next weekend, and will be spending the next week in Seattle rehearsing, writing up, and getting ready. This is a working trip, not a pleasure trip, so if I don't reach out to you going "hey let's hang," please don't take it personally; I need to get my balance before I have to be awesome for a paying audience. But I promise lots of awesome on the other end, even if I'll be wracked with guilt over leaving my cats for this long.

(Alice and Thomas continue well, and exceedingly fluffy. Lilly is getting a bad case of the Olds, and is not doing as great, but she endures, transitioning into that stage of life known as "fueled by hate" among Siamese lovers everywhere.)

I have not been seriously ill since leaving my day job, even though I have seriously exhausted myself several times. I'm not saying that correlation is causation in this case, but I think I can make a good case for the two being connected. Hooray for being out of the plague pit!

More to come.
seanan_mcguire: (midway)
...although I suppose that since these days my hair is dyed in a lovely "sunset over the cornfield" ombre, I should probably consider changing that title, huh? Nah. Shan't. I am who I am, and even if I dye my hair black and start being Mira full-time, I'll always be a blonde girl. So! Statuses and such.


I am in the process of packing prizes and purchases and presents to go into the mail. I had a rough couple of weeks, and didn't do the mail when I was supposed to, which means I have a truly daunting amount of mailing to do. I shall persevere, have no worries on that front! It helps that I just got a brand new Ikea shelf for the front room, to act as a shipping supplies/office supplies storage area. I am much more likely to actually cram things into envelopes and send them out in a timely manner if I have easy access to envelopes, rather than needing to rummage through half the back room to find the damn things. (This is part of the overall "declutter the house and make it more easily livable" plan that has been in process for the last month or two.)

Post-Hogswatch cleanup.

So quite a few people who are not regulars around here added me to their LJ friend lists during the Hogswatch festivities, which makes total sense, since who doesn't love a daily giveaway? And now they're subtracting me, sometimes with apologetic little notes, because the giveaways have ended. I just want to remind y'all that doing this is totally cool. I am a voluntary follow zone! Please un-friend me at will, and don't worry that you're going to hurt my feelings. Unless you belong to a very short list of people, all of whom are dear friends who have known me for ages, I will not be upset. I'd be more upset if I learned that you had forced yourself to stick around out of obligation, and consequentially become sad.

Prepping for Boskone!

My first official appearance of the new year will be at Boskone, a Boston-based science fiction convention where I will be appearing as the author Guest of Honor, and more, where my first ever collection of essays and poetry, Letters to the Pumpkin King, will be released. I haven't seen the cover yet, but I'm sure it's going to be gorgeous. More, it's an opportunity to own the contents of my first two (severely out of print) chapbooks. So that's cool. Boskone will be held over Valentine's Day weekend in Boston, Massachusetts, and I hugely recommend swinging by if you're in the area and want to hear me blather about whatever the con winds up telling me to blather on about.

My icon.

Something new is coming in 2014. Step right up and try your luck; a dollar and a quarter buys an all-night pass. Details to come: watch this space for news (but don't bother asking me now, for I won't answer, no, not at all).


Mom ran the shop vac on Saturday, to prep for the new Ikea cabinet I mentioned before, and the cats flipped their shit as only cats can do. Two days later, we still feel the echoes of the epic shit-flip. Thomas has been doing sock slides in the hall, Alice is a ball of bale, and Lilly keeps getting confused by the way things have moved, sitting down in the middle of the floor, and keening.

Cats are complicated, and I can't find the reset switch, is what I'm saying here.

Do you wanna build a snowman?

Or ride our bikes around the hall?
seanan_mcguire: (alice)
Today is Alice Price-Healy Little Liddel Abernathy McGuire's fifth birthday. We did not meet until she was ten days old, but this is the day when she began. I am still so very grateful to her for deciding to do that.

As a kitten, Alice's name was "Ado Annie," and she was a prissy, prissy princess who didn't really care for any of the human suitors who came to visit her litter. Until she met me, and went to sleep on my arm, and I asked in a strangled voice if her breeder (my friend Betsy Tinney) took checks.

It took a good deal more time and conversation before Alice was ready to come home with me, as a sixteen week old fuzzball with firm ideas about the world, her place in it, and my place under her. She was my first Maine Coon, and after the learning curve was behind us, she quickly became one of my best friends.

She is pushy; loud; arrogant; prissy; very stinting with her love, and very particular about who deserves it. She gives affection when she wants to, not when people demand it. She won't eat human food, but she begs for it all the same, only to disdain it with a sniff if allowed to get a closer look. She sits like a human, and likes to hug the remote. She is, as I often tell her, my favorite thing.

Happy birthday, Alice. Let's celebrate a dozen more.
seanan_mcguire: (me)
10. I haven't been posting much recently, and I'm sorry. I could make a lot of excuses, but at the end of the day, it boils down to one thing: I'm tired. I had a lot of deadlines hit all at once, and I've been spending the time that would normally go to blogging trying to "recharge my batteries" by doing things like cleaning out my inbox and re-dressing my many, many dolls. And on the one hand, I feel sort of like I'm failing you guys through my radio silence. But on the other hand, I feel like you'd rather have me alert and peppy than gloomy and drooping, so it'll all come out in the wash. Right?

9. Vericon was lovely; Boston was not, so much, since New England observes this season called "winter," and they celebrate it by leaving huge heaps of snow everywhere. Ev. Ery. Where. There were literally heaps of snow all over the place, and since I am a California girl, my tolerance for snow is basically non-existent. People kept asking me where my coat was. It's adorable how they assume they own one, isn't it?

8. But an old friend of mine showed up at my book signing, and brought me a PAX East scarf and several hugs, and that was lovely. Really, Boston was awesome for people: I saw Shawn, and Dave, and Nora, and Tammy, and Katy, and it was all splendid, and I have no regrets. So many hugs. I love hugs.

7. Oh, and then I found Carrie at the airport, as we were on the same flight home from Boston. She was quite ill. I fed her Pepto Bismol chewables and made her feel better. This is why I carry such things.

6. The cats are done being furious with me over my absence, and are now trying to love me so enthusiastically that I will never leave them again. For Thomas, this means a lot of flinging himself at me and trusting that I'll catch him. I have some really interesting scratches from where one of us misjudged the distance he was going to need to travel. Kitty love is pointy love.

5. My podiatrist has given me a prescription for...running shoes. Because that is the next rehabilitational step, after the walking boot that I've been in for the past month. Basically, they have the support and cushioning that I need, and they'll allow me to continue healing while also walking more normally. I have never been so excited about the prospect of putting my jeans back on, you have no idea.

4. I have so many deadlines in 2013, and some of them have been moved by other people, and it makes me pull my hair and whimper. But! I am triumphant thus far, and thanks to my compulsive list-making and passion for organizing my life, I am confident that I will be able to stay on top of them. As long as I don't get sick or distracted or forget to come home from Disney World in May (which is a genuine risk, let me tell you; Disney World is like a black hole for Seanans).

3. Jean Grey is no longer dead and I am not happy about that fact.

2. Zombies are, however, still love.

1. You all make me very happy, and I am glad that you're still here. I promise to try to be better about staying on top of things. I can't promise to succeed, but everything begins with trying.
seanan_mcguire: (alice)
Four years ago today, Betsy and Dave Tinney welcomed their Wild West litter at Pinecoon Maine Coons. There were five kittens in the litter, two boys and three girls. One of the three girls was a blue classic tabby and white, whom they called "Ado Annie" as a baby-name.

Fast-forward a few weeks. I didn't go to Washington looking for a Maine Coon. I didn't want a Maine Coon. I was deeply embroiled in the search for a classic Siamese cattery that would fill my needs. Instead, I got handed a puddle of irritated blue and white fluff, and fell instantly, irrevocably in love.

Things were arranged. Discussions were had. And when Ado Annie was sixteen weeks old, her name officially became Alice, and she officially became mine.

Alice is one of the best cats I have ever had, if not the best cat I have ever had. She's sweet, loving, and affectionate, while being sassy and determined to do her own thing, regardless of my opinions on the matter. She's talkative and friendly to my guests, while retaining her natural feline arrogance. She's beautiful and healthy and I adore her beyond words.

So happy fourth birthday to Pinecoon's Alice Price-Healy Little Liddel Abernathy McGuire, the best cat I could ever hope to have.

I love my puffy girl.
seanan_mcguire: (me)
My darlingest dearest Paul Cornell asked me to write a post about one of the twelve days of Christmas for his blog, and because he has a newborn son and thus gets to ask me for free content without being looked at sadly, I wrote a post about the hidden blackbirds that come on the fourth day. Four colly birds for all of you!

Jennifer Brozek had a lovely dream and I was in it and it was wonderful, and now you can see it in illustrated, murderous form. Happiness and joy.

This Etsy store has the best handmade catnip eyeballs in the world. There is no joy like watching a cat gleefully maul a giant human eye. NO JOY IN THIS WORLD. Plus we've sold out their stock like, twice since I discovered them. Let's do it again.

I have a Tumblr now. Tumblrs are cool. And while this won't be true for long, if you go there right now, you'll actually get a lovely graphic illustration of how many fucks I have left to give. Hint: not many.

In limited edition news, A Fantasy Medley 2 and When Will You Rise remain available from Subterranean Press, and Velveteen vs. The Junior Super Patriots remains available from ISFIC Press. Velveteen is available in hardcover and ebook formats, the others are hardcover only.

Now, this is important: all three of the books listed above are limited edition, and the print runs are really small. So while they're available now, they won't be available forever. Please keep that in mind, because I will just look sad and shake my head if asked in six months whether I have any for sale. Also, you can get When Will You Rise and Velveteen vs. The Junior Super Patriots signed and personalized for the holidays by contacting Borderlands Books.

And that's the news.
seanan_mcguire: (me)
So hello! Good morning, and welcome to the many people who have shown up over the weekend. Here are a few things you might want to know, as you're deciding whether or not to stick around.

1. This is not a social issues blog. Mostly, it's about writing, my cats, and me doing stupid things in the interest of not being bored out of my skull. Because I have very strong feelings about a lot of social issues, they do crop up from time to time, but they're not my focus. Rage is exhausting. I try to focus on happier things, like that new rabies/Ebola virus that's started melting people while being inexplicable and impossible to cure. It's the little things in life.

2. I write urban fantasy under my own name, and science fiction medical thrillers under the name Mira Grant. The first books in my urban fantasy series are Rosemary and Rue (for the October Daye series), and Discount Armageddon (for my InCryptid series). There's also a lot of free fiction on my website, mostly in the Velveteen vs. superhero universe and the InCryptid universe, so you can try things if you want to see whether you like them.

3. I have OCD, in the literal, medically diagnosed sense, not in the joking "that was a little OCD of me" sense. This translates to a love of lists, both to do and to generate (hence this entry). I will occasionally do things that don't make much sense, like my insistence on answering every top-level comment I receive. Don't worry about it. I do my best not to make my problems anyone else's concern, and will let you know if there's a problem.

4. I do not ban people, but I do ask them to play nicely. Because I have a full-time day job, sometimes I can't clean up the comments as quickly as I want to. Please don't take a comment appearing as a sign of authorial approval. If it's inappropriate, rude, or over the line, I'll speak up as soon as I get the chance.

5. Cumulatively, my three cats weigh as much as a small golden retriever, and none of them are overweight. Jim Hines once said that I took my cats very seriously. This is because they can eat me. This is also why I tend to respond to "I just bought your book" with "thank you for feeding my cats." I do not wish to be eaten.

Again, welcome. You are all welcome to stay, and while I hope you will, I will not be hurt if you choose to go. It's a big internet, and we'd all explode if we tried to pay attention to absolutely everything.

Happy Monday!
seanan_mcguire: (marilyn)
Well, it's official: as of this past Sunday (when I was a bad monkey, and had abandoned my beloved cats for the dubious comforts of Comic-Con), Thomas Price Lynn Rhymer Taylor McGuire, my blue classic tabby and white male Maine Coon, is two years old. This means he has ceased to be a kitten, and has become an official cat. Not that he seems to have noticed. Most of his time is still spent racing around the house like a loon, collapsing in my arms and purring loudly, and demanding to be fed. With any luck, this is his adult personality, and I have finally fulfilled my childhood dream of having a twenty-pound kitten.

The cats, all three, are still very clingy and unsettled about my recent trip to San Diego, which went on rather longer than any of them wanted it to, and has resulted in my spending my nights beneath roughly eighty pounds of fluff. This is why I am going to be slaughtered in my sleep Sunday night, since I'm leaving work early today and flying straight to Portland. Alas. On the plus side, I intend to have a good time while I'm there, and I'm only gone for three nights this time. Maybe they won't notice., that's silly. They're going to eat me.

(Portland is not a public event, by the way, which is why it's not listed on my Appearances page. Always check there if you want to know if I'm going somewhere for social and sharable reasons.)

Naturally, I am totally exhausted, which has led to things like poor Vixy getting told all about the Tyrannosaurus leech. (She took it better than Shawn did when I told him about the axolotl.) I've managed to shower, do laundry, and pack a suitcase that's actually cleared for flight, containing no weapons of any kind. This is an accomplishment in my current condition, and I want you all to be very, very proud of me.

San Diego was lovely, and I'm going to keep promising to write a con report right up until too much time has passed and I forget about it. (This fate has claimed so very many trips in recent years. Disney World anyone?) Right now, I'm going to take a few deep breaths and prepare to plunge back into the fray. Because it never, never ends.

See you when I get home!
seanan_mcguire: (alice)
Today and tomorrow, PetSmart is hosting their Free Adoption Days, on which pet adoption fees are waved for qualified applicants (ie, you have a pulse, a home, understand how not to starve an animal to death, and seem even halfway-corporeal, because we have way too many animals in need of homes). The PetSmart near me, in Concord, California, currently has some absolutely beautiful cats looking for their forever homes. One, Regent, is terrified enough to be hiding in his litter box. Another, Junebug, has already had her adoption fee reduced twice, but as an all-black cat, her odds aren't great.

Cats wind up in shelters for a lot of reasons, and very few of them are "because s/he was a bad cat." People lose their jobs, or move away and don't take their pets. Kids leave for college. People die. People lose the wherewithal to feed themselves, much less an extra, meowing mouth. And in all of these cases the cats, who have no idea what's going on, wind up suffering for it.

Amazing cats come from shelters. Adult cats who don't need to be trained; kittens who have all the world in front of them. Cats whose personalities are already plain when you meet them, making it so much easier to find the right cat for you. Cats who need you.

I've been very upfront about why none of my current cats are from shelters, and why my lifestyle and emotional needs are better met by reputable breeders. But if you don't fall into this category, and feel that there might be a cat-shaped hole in your life, go and take a look at your local shelter.

This post brought to you by the California Dammit Why Can't I Take Junebug Home Oh Yeah Alice Would Kill Her To Death Committee.
seanan_mcguire: (me)
1. So I have been forced, by the technical limitations inherent to LJ, to change my Friending policy. Specifically, I am now at MAXIMUM FRIENDOCITY, and adding any more Friends will cause me to be instantly sucked into a horrifying shadow dimension where demons will feast on my delicious bones. Read also, "LJ won't let me Friend any more people." So while I am still a Friend/Unfriend amnesty zone, I will no longer be automatically Friending back. Also, I have now typed the word "Friend" so many times that it has lost all meeting. I shall have to Foe some people.

2. You know it's summer when the Maine Coons felt their bellies by sleeping in their water dish, and you have to take them back to the groomer to be shaved. Again. In other news, guess who gets to take forty pounds of cranky kitty to the groomer? Good guess.

3. I've been scarce recently because a) I've been trying to catch up on some things, and b) I have 600+ comments to answer and it scares me. I will endeavor to post more, if y'all will be understanding about it taking me a while to answer you. S'good? S'good.

4. Disneyland was awesome, except for the part where I twisted my ankle and spent Sunday in a wheelchair. It turns out that I'm still surprisingly good at navigating myself when I need to, and Vixy pushed me when we weren't in spaces that required fine cornering and control. Neither of us died, but wow, was that not an experience that I am in a hurry to repeat.

5. I will, however, say this: if you see a girl pushing a manual wheelchair down a hill, maybe stepping right in front of that wheelchair is not the world's best plan. Especially if that wheelchair contains a person larger than the girl doing the pushing. Because you know what neither of us was able to do in that situation? Stop. In other news, I ran over some idiot-ankles, and I am not sorry.

6. The Hugo Voter Packet has been updated, and now contains the files for Best Related Work. That means that, for the first time ever, a full length filk CD is included in the Hugo packet. So. Cool. It's not too late to register and get your voting rights into the bag! Check out for details.

7. The new season of So You Think You Can Dance has started, and that means that my urge to write InCryptid is returning to normal. This show is totally restorative, in the best, weirdest way possible. I am a happy bunny.

8. Other things that make me happy: the San Diego Comic-Con exclusives have been announced for this year, and they include a new Monster High doll (Scarah Screams) and a new My Little Pony (Derpy Hooves/Bubblecup). I am a sucker for toys.

9. Other things I am a sucker for: Australia. My Mira Grant Q&A on Saturday was the most marsupial-centric Q&A I've ever been a part of. It was sort of impressive, in a "why are we talking about this again?" sort of a way. It may have had something to do with the fact that I had a plush Perry the Platypus on the podium...

10. Jean Gray is still dead.
seanan_mcguire: (knives)
1. To clarify a point from all the shirt posts: please don't email now asking if your shirt has been mailed. Your shirt has been mailed. I don't know where it is anymore. The post office does what it will do, but as we have not, thus far, had anything vanish while in transit, I am relatively confident that your package will get to you. It can take up to a week within the US, and up to three weeks outside the US. If you are in the US and don't have a shirt by April 15th, or outside the US and don't have a shirt by May 1st, that's when we should become concerned. (That's a lot of time on purpose. I want to give the post office the chance to find things.)

2. Texas was gorgeous, and College Station was amazing. I realize the state's unusual weather meant that it was basically all dressed up for my West Coast eyes—it rained for several weeks before my arrival, so everything was green and covered in wildflowers—but first impressions matter, and my first impression was "This place is gorgeous." Definitely an E-ticket of a state.

3. Midnight Blue-Light Special has been turned in to The Editor, which means I can focus on all the other things that I'm supposed to be writing right now. No, it never ends. Which is also kind of awesome, even if right now, all I want to be working on is InCryptid. Stupid muse and her stupid laser focus. Oh, well.

4. Thanks to trusting the travel gods to see me safely home on Sunday, I managed to upgrade my two flights in coach to a single through flight in first class. Let me tell you, first class is a nice way to fly home. Also, there was free digital cable on the flight, so I watched Jennifer's Body, Zombieland, and Pandorum. Awesome, even more awesome, what the fuck were these people thinking.

5. Also on the topic of first impressions, thanks to this lingering cold, College Station's first impression of me was "scratchy-voiced, foul-mouthed, evil pixie." I can definitely settle for that.

6. Tonight, I do laundry; tomorrow, I pack for Emerald City Comic Con. Because it never really ends once it begins around here. I'm super-excited to see my Seattle family, go to my first ECCC, and hug Amy Mebberson lots and lots. My life is empty if I don't hug an Amy once a month. True fact. And my beloved Amy McNally went home after Consonance.

7. The cats are filled with hate, because the suitcases will not go away. I begin to fear retribution. On the plus side, their "retribution" usually takes the form of sleeping endlessly atop the objects of their annoyance.

8. The new Monster High characters are starting to ship, and my local Toys R Us is once again seeing me two and three times a week as I check in, looking for Rochelle Goyle and the basic Jackson Jekyll (he previously appeared in the beachwear line, Gloom Beach, which means this is the first time he's been available with all his accessories). Luckily, I have a tolerant mother, and tolerant friends.

9. For those of you in the UK, I have a column in this month's issue of SFX Magazine! Or, well, Mira does. I wrote an article about why The Stand is a classic and you should read it. US folks, you'll be able to pick up the issue next month. I'm really pleased with it.

10. Jean Grey is still dead, zombies are love, and the Great Pumpkin watches over us all.

September 2017

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