This entry would have happened earlier, but as many of you know (how many mothers do I have on Twitter?) I came home from Atlanta and promptly got horribly sick. In the last week I've caught up on a lot of TV...and I relived Dragon*Con. I searched YouTube for recordings of the parade. I posted all my pics to my photo album, looked ( Read more... )

There was a minute -- one full, sixty-second interval -- when I had that fish out of water "what the heck am I doing here?!?" feeling. I filled out the "Noises Off" audition application with my name and address....and nothing else. It asked for us to list the last three productions we'd been in, and in what capacity. What WAS the last play we did ( Read more... )

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Due to some technical difficulties, the Fantasy magazine con reports didn't go up as immediately as we sent them. Day Two is live now. I'll let you know when Day Three hits newsstands.

If you're jonesing for more, "The Still & the Storm" -- my new Beauty & Dynamite essay --  is now up, along with the latest issue of Apex magazine. Yes, it's true ( Read more... )

Best slumber party ever. New Year's Eve, the night of the blue moon. I wasn't even feeling that well, but I went anyway because it was the five of us, the NT's (non-twits). We made cookies, and Jesse had her guitar so we sang about leaving on jet planes, and at midnight we went outside and laid in the grass and tried to commune with the dead, or ( Read more... )

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Casey and I stepped down from the stage, blushing like mad. Erik was nowhere to be seen. What the heck? "Maybe nobody heard that," I wishfully thought aloud.

"Oh, yes they did," said Matt. Damn.

Turns out, Erik wasn't even in the room when Casey made our scandalous announcement. Maybe he was in the bathroom or in the main hallway admiring the ( Read more... )

The directions to the place where our 15-year reunion was being held were a street address, along with the words "across from the rocket." Deep in the bowels of downtown Columbia, past the industrial middle of nowhere, lie the fairgrounds. Smack in the middle of those fairgrounds is a garishly painted rocket, the landmark to beat all landmarks. ( Read more... )

It's one thing to feel like you've known somebody for twenty years, and another to actually have done so. You get to skip over all the preamble, all the "getting to know you" junk, all the "you just had to be there" moments, because they already know you. They were there. They wore the glasses and the braces and they got the bad perms, just like ( Read more... )