|05:11 pm - Anthologies and Updates|
Originally published at Schrodinger's Bookshelf. Please leave any comments there.
Sorry I haven’t been around here much. The sad truth is that so much of what I’ve been doing is behind the scenes or boring, that I haven’t really felt the pressure to post. But I do have a few things to note.
1) Scheherazade’s Facade is approximately 99.99% done and ready to go. Our release date has been slated for October 30th, which means ebooks might be ready before that, and print books will be ready around that. And except for one spectacularly last-second catch by a sharp-eyed member of the Circlet editorial team regarding a small typo which slipped under EVERYONE’S radar for MONTHS, and oh god, I owe this person so much, it’s been a quiet and peaceful process. Almost home, folks!
2) Like Fortune’s Fool, my new anthology of erotic tales of luck and serendipity, has a month to go on its reading period. Guidelines are here. In the month I’ve been open to submissions, I’ve gotten exactly three stories, all of which were splendidly inappropriate and not even close to what I want. I’m desperately praying that all the good writers I know are just biding their time to taunt me and I’ll get slammed at the last minute. Please, authors, slam me with the good stuff. I beg you.
3) Like A Cunning Plan, my first anthology of erotic trickster tales, has been out for several months, and has yet to garner any reviews or mentions or, well, anything as far as I can tell. If you love me, and you bought this anthology and didn’t tell me, leave a Amazon review. Or Barnes and Noble review. Or rate it on Goodreads. Or something. It makes me sad that this project has flown under the radar, which it’s awesome and entertaining. (Oh, the irony, that I should be at the mercy of reviewers…)
4) My most recent review for Tor.com is The Raven Boys, by Maggie Stiefvater, a YA which I absolutely loved.
5) I’ll be at World Fantasy Con in Toronto at the beginning of November. If you’re there, find me. I’ll be the one with a stack of copies of Scheherazade’s Facade strapped to my chest in one of those chest-mounted baby carriers. Unless my wife talks me out of it. Again.
That’s it for now, folks. I’ve got deadlines to fulfill, and all that other jazz.