For the past week, Delia & I have been with friends in a perfect little jewel of a colonial town in Mexico. We're in a huge glorious palazzo of an 18c house together on a writing retreat, and while I fear I have spent far too much of my time trying to raise
funds and attract
stations to our
Witches of Lublin show for April, I have managed to complete, polish & submit a short story to Jonathan Strahan's YA Witches anthology - a whole 2 days before the deadline, yet! (Those who know me of old will know what a crazy achievement that is.) I've also - after a fair amount of dithering & taking counsel of the assembled colleagues - officially begun a new novel. Of which more later. And I've listened to other people's plot points, and read assorted mss., and counseled in my turn. And eaten lots of amazing Mexican food, and found the massive
rings I've always wanted (one rocky opal, one labradorite), and gotten very nearly enough sunlight to banish all mooligrubs . . . and found myself living in a gloriously aesthetic and luxurious space that is the sort of place one usually visits only in dreams. There is a colonnaded courtyard with a fountain, into which bougainvillea blossoms drop and float. Here is a photo of Delia working in it:
(There really is a fountain in the middle. I guess I must be standing behind it. I will try to post more photos, if I can find a way to do it without being too annoying.)