That subject line, I was having breakfast and thinking about cyberpunk, about sf and trends and how cyberpunk has been deemed passé, irrelevant, out of fashion by the gatekeepers of science fiction. And that phrase popped into my mind. Maybe there's an sf short story that belongs to it. Maybe. Or it might be the title of my second collection of sf, which will happen someday.* Cyberpunk remains the sort of sf I most enjoy writing, fashion be fucked and damned.
Please have a look at
the current eBay auctions. Spooky's put up a PC copy of the lettered, boxed edition of
From Weird and Distant Shores (2002). It goes without saying this book is very, very rare. The lettered includes "Rat's Star: A Fragment," a piece not published in the trade edition of the collection (or ever reprinted anywhere else). If we ever offer another of these, it'll be a long while to come.
Yesterday, I began the eighth chapter of The Drowning Girl: A Memoir and wrote 1,802 words. The chapter begins with a series of excerpts from a telephone answering machine, which says something telling about the structure of the novel, I think. After writing, we proofed "Spindleshanks (New Orleans, 1956)" for
Two Worlds and In Between, because I'm behind of the proofreading for that project and racing to catch up.
Unless I leave the house today, it will have been nine days since I was last Outside,
Apparently, when I say, "Blizzard, you've lost me," it means I have to go forthwith and roll a new character and then spend five hours playing her. Last night, we did a little with Shah and Suraa, completeing the Twilight Highlands. And then...I created a Forsaken mage named Erszébetta and Spooky created a Forsaken priest named Tzilla, and the next five hours were a blur of silliness. One of my few favorite things about WoW are those first ten levels. Not sure why, but they're always the most fun. And it's just sad how much easier the starter levels are now compared to when I beagn playing in October 2008. I almost reached Level 11; we went to bed about 4:30 ayem, because there was no one here to tell us we were bad kids and shoo us away to bed. I deleted my dwarf paladin, Dís, to make room on Cenarion Circle for Erszébetta. Sorry, Dís. My heart belongs to Sylvanas.
This evening, after the writing is done, I'll be posting the new "what if I..." question. As before, answers will be screened, which means I'm the only person who will be able to see them. The ones that get reprinted in the digested will be printed anonymously. Which is meant to lower those nasty inhibitions you might be harboring.
*You steal this title, I publicly embarrass you, then kill you. The End.