December 19th, 2008



The trouble with books-within-books is that they're these tantalizing alternate universes.

In Palimpsest, there is a YA novel from the 1920s that is extremely dear to one of the characters. As part of various schemes, I've expanded the excerpt that's quoted in the book, just enough to have an idea of what this book would really be if I were to actually write it.

And I secretly want to write it for real, so bad. I read the excerpt to justbeast  and he howled (literally, he is, after all, a beast) that there was no more, that the book would never be. tithenai  is similarly displeased. She expresses her displeasure via capslock.

"But you know what it's about, just tell me. How does it end?" justbeast  pleaded.

"Honey, I don't know how it ends. I only wrote one chapter. Adventures and resolution, I presume."


So it sits there, just past the doorway and the cupboards, being as shiny and desirable as possible, shaking its tinsel and whispering that if certain immoral people make novels out of short stories they can make novels out of fictional novels.

"Sweetheart," I say, "given my last experience trying to sell a YA book, maybe you ought to just eat your vegetables and be glad you're making a cameo in an adult book that's being published at all."

The novel that never was sulks. Shinily.

  • Current Mood
    amused amused

At Least Doubletree Gives You Warm Cookies at Check In


Instead of leaving last night, as we thought we might, we lingered for soup dumplings and good company, and thus set out in the middle of a blizzard today.

5 hours later, we are 45 miles out from NYC, and have checked into a hotel for the night.

It's kind of hilarious being in a Doubletree without a con. I feel like I should get drunk and pontificate. SnowCon 08.

Anyway, we have been totally owned by winter, having originally fled an ice storm, and now caught in a snow storm on the way back. I hope the roads are clear by tomorrow.

  • Current Mood
    groggy groggy