R.I.P. Rainsong (1991-2004)

solarbird told me as I was getting up this morning that her older budgie, Rainsong, passed away during the night. This was not exactly a surprise, as the poor little critter had been looking pretty raggedy for months now. She'd forgotten she could fly, and kept falling down in the cage. Her wings were lying weird against her body as well.

Still though, sniffle. She lived a long and full life. Well, for a parakeet.

This weekend!

This weekend promises to be extremely full indeed.

Most likely sometime on Friday morning, solarbird and I are setting out for Vancouver, BC, wherein we will meet up with gerimaple and elfmaid and possibly others for dinner and then a vital mission: making certain Alan Doyle is still pretty and Séan McCann can still sing. Yes folks, it's Yet Another Great Big Sea concert. Thanks to the word that GBS is going on hiatus next year (which may or may not be linked to the rumors of The Doyle's getting married to his Fairest One of All), I figured squeezing in another show this year was pretty much vital. Especially given that I don't know yet when we're going to get that highly anticipated all-trad next GBS album.

We intend to crash in Vancouver at gerimaple's place overnight, then have lunch with our friend Oliver (who should be known to LexFA personages), with whom we have not touched bases in something on the order of six years.

Then we must zoom back down here so that Dara can head to a meeting for CascadiaCon, the NASFiC being held in Seattle next year. Which pretty much means she'll be dropping me off at the house and zooming right back out again to get to the meeting.

Sunday, we go to chipmunck's in honor of her birthday. Yay birthday!

Somewhere in there I hope to get in some writing, and to get the new revised packet for Faerie Blood out the door to Tor. And oh yes. Somewhere in there I suppose I should also sleep, but well hey, sleep is for AFTER I'm done ogling The Doyle. ;)

Here goes nothin'

Chapters are printed. Page numbering verified. Spelling of editor's name verified. Synopsis, check. Chapters, check. Query letter, check. SASE, check. SASP, check. Proper amount of postage on manuscript envelope, check. No mistakes in the addresses on the manuscript envelope, check. Ladies and gentlemen, Faerie Blood is now ready to go out for its second round of combat with Tor Books. And I get to twitch about it for the rest of the evening, on the grounds that it is too late to send the packet out in today's mail. And the minds of twitchy Authors are dangerous places to be....

Kendis: "I dunno. You think they're gonna buy the lead character changing names between drafts?"

Kendie, hon, they probably aren't going to remember you used to be Rachel. Not unless I happen to get the same intern or assistant who read y'all the first time around.

Christopher: "Do y'hafta send us out TOMORROW? Couldn't we go t' Vancouver wit' ya? I mean, have some mercy, lass, GREAT BIG SEA is playin'! And ya did make 'em my favorite band, ya know!"

Well, duh. You're a NEWFOUNDLANDER. And take it easy, big guy, it ain't like you and Kendis aren't going to get a GBS concert off-camera between books anyway.

Christopher: "I'm gonna hold ya to dat."

Elessir: "Hah. As if I couldn't out-play and out-sing five mortals in my sleep."

Did I ask you a GODDAMNED THING?

Elessir: <smiles devilishly, while Kendis and Christopher throw pillows at him, and the Author throws pillows at all of the voices in her head>