One Major Reason Why I Love to Come Home

Because this is the person waiting for me when I get there.

A Week’s Worth of Book Arrivals

I’ve noted before that during the average week I will get somewhere between 10 and 40 books sent to me, which is a figure some people have treated with either amazement or skepticism. So to illustrate the point, here’s a week worth of printed matter, sent to me by various publishers between last Tuesday (when I left home) and today (when I got back). It’s 33 books. And it doesn’t count the three books I actually bought this last week (Mark Helprin’s In Sunlight and in Shadow, the new Jacqueline Carey (for Krissy, who is a fan) and Bud Sparhawk’s Vixen), and the four I was given as gifts at Capclave.

Books! They’re awesome.

Also, if you want a better look at the individual titles, here’s a bigger picture of the haul. There are some excellent titles in here. Tell me in the comments which ones are catching your eye.


And Thus Are All My Revels Ended

I am being slightly precipitate about this, considering that I am writing this in the B terminal of the Detroit airport rather than at home. Nevertheless: With Capclave — at which I had a wonderful time — behind me, I have now concluded all my official travel for 2012. I have no more conventions or events, and nothing official on my 2013 calendar (other than the Nebula Awards Weekend next May) for reasons I have already discussed here on the site. I have some things I am considering for 2014, but haven’t made any decisions about them yet, so for the moment, with the exception of the Nebs, and for the first time literally in years, I don’t have anywhere I’ll have to be going to at any point in the future.

It feels a little weird.

And it also feels good, at the moment at least. As I’ve noted before I’ve been traveling an average of a week out of every month for the last two and a half years, and the knock-on effects of travel, in terms of writing and personal equilibrium, have been been increasingly noticeable to me. I look at the vast expanse of my calendar, with nothing in it, and see the potential to write more, and to write different stuff. That appeals to me right now. It’s like getting an extra week each month to do things. And don’t we all want a little more time?

(Mind you, there’s also that part of my brain which goes if you don’t go places they will forget about yooooooooooooou; it’s the same part of my brain, several years ago, that worried that if I turned down the work I simply had no time in my schedule for, that no one would ever give me work again. The brain is a paranoid thing, and I say to it: Brain, I love you, but calm the hell down.)

To everyone who I’ve seen in the last couple of years: Thank you for coming out to see me, wherever it is that you and I were together. I will definitely try to see you again. Just probably not in 2013. I hope you’re okay with that.