Rose-Owls and Pumpkin Girls

By this time tomorrow morning, I will be at the San Francisco International Airport, drinking overpriced airport beverages and waiting for my 8am flight to New York. I will have kissed my cats goodbye and walked through the Bay Area house for what will be, in many ways, the last time: when I get back from New York, the house will still be here, but everything I own will be gone, packed up and pulled down and shoved into the moving truck, already making its way up the coast.

From June 3rd to June 28th, I will be on the East Coast, doing business (numbers, numbers, math math math), doing pleasure (people who know how badly I need to be distracted from what's happening in California have made sure I will have many good distractions), doing appearances (I will be at the Manhattan Kinokuniya on June 11th; details are here: https://www.facebook.com/events/1547988148830559/ ), and doing conventions (CrossingsCon, in Newark, New Jersey, with my beloved Mark Oshiro).

Things I will not be doing: mailing stuff. All my stuff will be a) on the West Coast, and b) in a moving truck. Replying to email with anything resembling alacrity. Sleeping much, between "New York in June" and "did I mention people are touching all my stuff and my cats are very far away?". Breathing.

If you're in the New York area, I hope to get a chance to see you this trip (looking at you, The Swarm). If you're not, please be patient with me while I navigate what has been a huge and stressful endeavor, but which seems to be coming, finally, thankfully, to a blessed end.

New York is exhausting.

I have been running hither and yon for the past two weeks; people keep being surprised that I'm still gone, and sometimes "people" involves me. I just woke up from a nap where I dreamt that Thomas had been here in New York with me this whole time (just Thomas; even my subconscious can't imagine putting Alice recreationally on a plane), and I nearly cried when I opened my eyes, because I just needed my kitty.

But I am having a wonderful time. I went to a cheese and champagne party in my honor (mine! As if I were a cheese and champagne event!), spent two days at DAW lounging and reading and being home, saw Fun Home and Hamilton on Broadway (and lost my shit when I realized that September from Fringe was playing Bruce Bechdel in Fun Home), and did lots of other good things. And I still have almost two weeks and a convention to go.

I'm trying to get back into the habit of blogging. I've fallen out of it for a lot of reasons, some good and some bad and some just overwhelmed, but I'm trying. I think I need some balance, and writing things down helps. So expect another post about Fun Home, and one about Hamilton, and one about the life-sized T. Rex at the Times Square Toys R Us, and please remember that I am not home until December 2nd, so communications will continue to be slow and unwieldy, but I am trying, and trying is a lot.

That is all.

This weekend I'm pleased to be appearing at CONtraflow 5/DeepSouthCon 53, alongside Julie Dillon, Robert Sawyer, and many others—including one variation of my musical swarm: Dr. Mary Crowell, Bill and Brenda Sutton, and more!

My schedule is as follows:

Opening Ceremonies, Friday, 5pm, Event 1
The Scariest Movie I've Ever Seen, Friday, 10pm, Panel Room 2
Saturday Concert, Saturday, 12pm, Event 1
In Conversation..., Saturday, 5pm, Panel Room 4
Speculative Poetry, 8pm, Panel Room 3, Saturday
Good Habits of Successful Writers, 12pm, Event One, Sunday
Writing Urban Fantasy, Sunday, 3pm, Panel Room 4

I don't have panel descriptions, but those seem pretty self-explanatory, and it should be a rousing good time. Plus, New Orleans! Who could ask for anything more?

I hope to see you there!

Here we go again, happy people: tomorrow I shall board a big metal sky-bird and soar away to Colorado, land without air, to serve as faculty for this year's Pike's Peak Writer's Conference.

If you're attending, I very much hope to see you there. If you're not attending, I will be very surprised if I see you there. If you see me there, and I seem a little woozy, it's just the altitude sickness; please don't tell me to drink more water, as I may throw up on you.

Colorado time!

10. Seattle is beautiful. I know this, because I am currently in Seattle, at least until Monday (the 30th), when I will fly back to California, have my hair done, do my laundry, sleep, and get on a plane to England. I won't be home for more than a day until April 15th. My accountant is thrilled.

9. Emerald City Comic Con is this weekend! I have posted my schedule. It's very packed and very pretty, and I am super excited about all the good things to come. Whee!

8. Before I left California, Kate and I did a massive post office run, and I mailed another huge batch of domestic shirts, as well as about a third of the remaining international shirts. I will try to send another batch before I leave for the UK (although I can't guarantee it). Also, my mother called to let me know that a box from the shirt shop has shown up, which I presume contains the shirts that weren't printed in the initial delivery. Hooray! I won't be able to sort these until after April 15th, but hopefully this means we can finish fulfillment sooner than later. Thank you all for your patience.

7. Still not writing the X-Men. Give me time.

6. Rolling in the Deep comes out next month! On the seventh, to be exact, and it is fancy. Seriously, this may be the fanciest book I have ever written, at least in terms of awesome production values. What a fancy, fancy book. Also it is filled with murderous mermaids and ill-fated ocean voyages, which are two of my favorite things. Because this is a Subterranean Press book, there's no guarantee it will be coming to a bookstore near you, and it may need to be ordered directly from the publisher.

5. This morning was the San Diego Comic-Con hotel scramble, and it says something about how stressful this is on an annual basis that I was on the Air B&B site shortly after, looking at local condos and thinking "maybe this wouldn't be so bad." I need help, and the con needs a better way of handling hotel assignments.

4. We are getting pedicures today. Because we are fancy ladies.

3. Speaking of fancy ladies, I am seeing so many of my favorite fancy ladies this coming weekend that I can't even express how happy I am. Like, I try, and all the words go away and then the flailing happens and sometimes I just really love my life, okay? Sometimes my life is best.

2. Zombies are love.

1. I will be going to Disney World for the first half of May, so if I seem a little AHHHHHHHHHHHH for the next few weeks, it's because I am literally three conventions and six weeks away from Disney time, and I need Disney time so bad y'all, I need it so bad I can taste it.

What's shiny and new with all of you?

Despite some confusion about my flight times, I am packed and ready to depart for New York City tomorrow morning. I have lain in food and litter for the cats, so that they are not forced to kill and eat my mother. I have charged my electronics and synched my iPod and had my sister wash my hair for me, just in case the purple dye sets off the bomb sniffers again. (Seriously. The dye sometimes sounds a false positive on the TSA equipment. So it's best if Youngest Sister washes and blow-dries me the night before I fly, just to be safe.)

I'm sorry I was unable to get the hardship giveaway winners picked and packed before I went; that will happen as soon as I get home. I'll be at ConNooga in a few weeks, and I do hope to see you there. In the meantime, I'll be running around visiting my publishers, seeing my girlfriend, and missing my cats and creepy dolls and bed.

I miss them all already.

Wish me luck.

I am pleased as punch to report that I will be appearing at the Forbidden Planet super-store in London on Wednesday evening, beginning at 6PM and continuing until they throw us out!

I will be signing whatever people have to hand, although the event is specifically celebrating the release of the first three InCryptid books in their beautiful new UK editions from Corsair Books. There is no charge to attend, although the bookstore would, as always, appreciate it if you bought something. Bookstores are like that.

This is my first big London event, and I really hope to see you there!

Amy and I left France on Thursday morning, following a ride in a cab operated by a surly but talented driver (we didn't die!), and some exciting airport escapades that I have already detailed in the "Paris" post. Our flight, operated by Aer Lingus, was short and pleasant, although I had never encountered "pay for your soft drinks" on a plane before (I prey Southwest never starts doing that). We landed in Dublin a little early, and made it to the car park with the assistance of a very nice local wheelchair operator. (Airport wheelchair services, for those who've not used them, generally consist of young, athletic people who are willing to push people who need it from one terminal to another. We tipped well, and everything was lovely.)

Gareth from Shamrokon met us at baggage claim, and loaded us into his car for the first of our odd transits. See, Sheila—my editor—and Betsy—my publisher—had both come to Dublin, and Thursday night was the only night that was really good for us to have dinner together. So Amy and I needed to be dropped off at the restaurant, while he took our luggage on to the hotel. Good thing he's a good sport! We wound up in a Michelin-starred French restaurant attached to their hotel, where we spent four and a half hours eating, drinking, talking, and enjoying cheese. So much cheese. It was a really divine dinner, and I completely understand why people make such a big deal about the place.

So much cheese.

Friday kicked off the convention. I had a panel with Tim Griffin and Jordan Kare, during which we talked about filk and how to be comfortable in the filk community; Kathy Mar attended, as did Teddy and Tom, and we had a lovely time making them do the heavy lifting for us. After that was opening ceremonies, and then, concert prep!

Yes, we did a concert, largely due to the tireless efforts and incredible talents of Dr. Mary Crowell, who herded all the cats so that I could look good. She is amazing. My band consisted of her, Amy McNally, and the Suttons, and everyone was splendid. We did basically the same set as Loncon, which was fine, because there wasn't that much audience overlap between the two cons, and it was really lovely. Brenda sang my part on "Wicked Girls," while I sang Vixy's, and a good time was had by all.

The next item was "In Conversation With Seanan McGuire," the solo version of the panel I like to do with Cat, where I will answer everything I am asked. We ran about ninety minutes over, and it was beautiful. Some very serious topics were discussed, like depression and OCD and the difficulty of talking about feeling suicidal. (One well-meaning man asked "Well, have you tried being sad without hurting yourself?", and while I hate the question, it opened the door for some very good discussion.) It was uncomfortable but important, and no one left the room, so I'm calling it a win.

Saturday, I had my Guest of Honor interview, with Janet as my interviewer, who had smartly brought Kinder Eggs. Every time she felt I'd answered a question sufficiently, I got chocolate. A+ interviewing technique, would be interviewed again. My panel on pseudonyms went well, and ended early enough that Amy and I were able to go out and grab dinner before the Doctor Who season premiere at eight, or the filk jam at nine.

I did not stay up to close out the jam. I am weak.

Sunday, I signed stuff; talked about zombies with great enthusiasm; and talked about toys with equally great enthusiasm. Then we closed the con, and I darted off with Amy and Wes to join the fabulous dinner already beginning at the Winding Stair, where the food was traditional and delicious.

Monday was the off-site Dead Dog at the Porterhouse downtown, and Wes and Mary and I had a lovely time, after bidding our beloved friends adieu. We swung by the nearby bookstore, which had my picture in the window, and bought books, before handing me off to the con chair, James, to go back to his place for a week's Irish tourism.

On the whole, Shamrokon was absolutely lovely. A good con, well-run, by extremely friendly people. Would guest again.

Next up, IRELAND.

When last we left our intrepid heroes, they were arriving at the Aloft, hence to set up base camp for the convention. Hooray! Only...not so much hooray, as my bank had turned my credit card off for fraud after seeing it used at Heathrow Airport and our initial hotel. In England. Where I had told them I would be.

I called the bank and had a borderline hostile conversation, ending when they turned my card back on and I was able to check us into the hotel. Wes and I then went to pick up the wheelchair Amy had booked for me. (My walking difficulties are continuing to improve, but "improving" doesn't mean the same as "better," and we very much wanted to be sure that I would be able to walk both in Paris and at Eurocon the following week.) It turned out that, despite us having put the booking in ultra-early, there were no independent mobility (IE, "big round wheels") chairs left, and I was put into a hospital-style chair that required someone to push me. Not so awesome.

We got me checked in and were off to my first panel, on pseudonyms. While I was there, Wes took the hospital chair back to the mobility desk and got me upgraded to a mobility scooter, on account of I did not have the independent movement I had been promised and no one wanted to have to help me get to the bathrooms. Everybody wins! (Vixy and I did not have a fully handicapped-accessible room, but had decided that parking the scooter in the shower was better than, again, no independence at all.) The panel went well, and we borked off for supper with a lot of my favorite people—Mary and Simon, Talis and Pippa, Brooke and Amy and Vixy and Wes—at the Indian restaurant at the end of the walk. We ran into Wesley Chu on the way back, and a good time was had by all.

That night was I'm Sorry, I Haven't A Clue, hosted by Lee Harris, and we had a splendid time. It was me and Cat "vs." Paul and Emma, and everyone acquitted themselves handsomely. I was still struggling with the tail end of my cold, and so made plans to tap out if necessary (Heath was ready to be our stunt Seanan), but I was able to get through the whole session, and only coughed so hard I stopped breathing once. Meg was seated in the front row, and was able to interpret my pantomime and get me my cough syrup. Life was very good indeed.

Friday passed in a blur. For my reading, I did half of "We Are All Misfit Toys in the Aftermath of the Velveteen War," and followed it up with an impromptu hallway signing that lasted no shit half an hour, courtesy of my not having an actual signing. (This was not the fault of the convention; I was the one who mis-booked the train tickets.) The queue was remarkably orderly, and crowned by Hisham walking over and offering me Pokemon. I LOVE YOU HISHAM. Pokemon: the way to my heart.

Saturday's panel on girl scientists was excellent, and I basically used Amanda as my guide. "Does this piss Amanda off?" I would ask myself, and then ask the question.

My concert was splendid and the filk track organizers were brilliant when they forced me to accept the big room (I had said I would be perfectly happy with the normal filk concert space). It held three hundred people, and we near to filled it. Dead Sexy was wonderful, as always. (Dead Sexy is the version of my backing band consisting of Bill and Brenda Sutton, Amy McNally, Dr. Mary Crowell, and Michelle Dockrey.) We scrapped "What A Woman's For" at the last minute, due to concerns about my voice and our arrangement, and dropped in "Still Catch the Tide," because it's something we can do without lyric sheets or practice. Talis was in the audience.

She'd never heard us do it live before.

I made Talis cry.

It was a good night, overall, and I am very glad to have been there.

I stayed on Sunday, just long enough for my panel on fan works, and then it was off to the rail station to catch the Eurostar to Paris. Vixy and I "watched" the Hugos over Twitter from our Parisian apartment (the wireless wasn't good enough to stream), and while I was sorry not to be there, Sunil was so happy to be me that I was honestly glad to have mis-booked the train: he glows in all the pictures I've seen, and I am always happy when I can give good experiences to my friends.

Congratulations to all the winners, solidarity to all the losers (of whom I am one), and I'll see you all next year.

Next up: DISNEYLAND.