I took a semi-hiatus in July in order to get a substantial start on the next novel, and the plan worked pretty well: I’m seven chapters into Lock In (which is the current name of the novel) and I’m pretty pleased with the progress so far. So, go me.
August should see Whatever resuming a more or less normal schedule, with the caveat that I usually write on the novel in the mornings, so unless I’ve written something up in advance and scheduled it for the morning, or am just writing up something very short, I may not be updating Whatever until the afternoon. You have the rest of the Internet out there; you should be fine.
LoneStarCon 3, this year’s Worldcon, is at the end of the month, and a number of you have asked me whether I will be attending, as I am not on the convention’s list of featured attendees. The answer is yes, I will be there, although with the exception of a reading and a kaffeklatch on Sunday of Worldcon, I won’t be doing programming. The reason for this is simple: I’m really really burnt out and the idea of doing panels right now makes me want to kill things with fire. What I want to do with my Worldcon is relax, see friends and spend time with them, and maybe win a Hugo if the voters have decided that’s what I should do.
So that’s the plan. Which is not to say that if you see me at Worldcon you shouldn’t come up and say or hello, or that I won’t sign a book for you or whatever (I don’t have any official signing time set yet, before you ask; I’ll note here if one opens up). But do know that I intend to be mostly off the clock for the Worldcon and enjoying it primarily as a fan. I’ve never done that at a Worldcon before. It might be fun to do.
As a related piece of information, Krissy has warned me that if anyone at LoneStarCon 3 tries to talk to me about past or current SFWA business, she will punch them hard in the throat. It’s Texas, throat-punching is allowed. I heartily endorse this plan of action because, remember, I will be off the clock, and will look askance at people attempting to put me back on it. So, don’t. I and your trachea thank you in advance.
Anyway: August. Here we are. Here we go.