Words Written: nothing yet
Writing Stats: Ah, Labor Day: Time for editors to clean out their slush piles. Came home from Seattle to find three rejections: “A Father’s Blessing” from Orson Scott Card’s Medicine Show, “Queen of Hearts, Hand of Fate” from Farthing, and “The Rising” from Abyss & Apex, which said “It was well received here, but after some thought we have decided not to accept it for publication.” Which is better than a poke in the eye with a short stick.
I’m en route home from Portland to Oxnard. It’s been a wonderful vacation, and I’m sorry to leave, as much as I miss the cats and the house (and need to pay bills and whatnot). I miss Ken more, though, already.
So, yes, a wonderful time. Oh, there were bad things, too—the airline losing my suitcase and then delivering it at 3 a.m., the three-day headache of doom, the late start to Seattle because the bike service took longer than expected, etc.—but I won’t focus on those.
So much good food and such good friends on this trip! We went out for Indian food (delectable shrimp biryani…) with Lev and Gayle, and spent a fantastic evening talking and laughing with them. We ate at a great Thai place near the apartment and at a Schlotzky’s Deli while the bike was being worked on. There’s little better in the world than eating a piled-high Reuben at a good deli while sitting with my beloved.
It utterly gladdened my heart to see Vicki-Marie again, and the Seattle trip was both relaxing and invigorating. She’s one of those people who make you feel smarter just for having talked to her—not that she teaches, but she brings out in you ideas and thoughts and opinions that you didn’t know you had, that you haven’t yet formed. Cecil, her friend with whom she was staying, was just charming. We ate many fine meals—Turkish/Mediterranean, Indian brunch, Italian (oh, gorgonzola-stuffed tortellini!)—and drank much fine wine and talked of period fence and Baroque music and Vicki-Marie’s thesis and the shapes of poetry and funnel witches and Marie Antoinette and… Sunday was the first day in as long as I can remember that I never really wondered what time it was. I checked the time once in the morning, when Ken and I decided to go for a walk before Cecil and Vicki-Marie got up and we wanted to let them know in a note what time we’d left, and Cecil mentioned in the evening the time to remind us we should rouse ourselves to go out to dinner.
We went to Pike’s Place Market, which wasn’t as grand as I’d expected, but was quite lovely, blooming with flowers and handmade gifts. I picked up a set of hand-blocked blank cards, and bought myself the perfect gift to celebrate the US release of Cat Scratch Fever. Actually, Ken insisted on buying it for me, saying it was more appropriate. It’s a pair of earrings, tiny handmade books no bigger than my thumbnail with handmade marbled purple covers. They can be made into memory books, if you can imagine something that small as such. I’ll shrink down tiny pictures of the CSF cover and our author photo to paste in, and write the date and other information on the delicate little pages. Just…perfect.
I signed stock at a Barnes & Noble in Seattle, and by the end of the conversation, the salesgirl said I’d given her hope to continue writing and submitting in the face of rejection. It brought tears to my eyes, and then again when Ken insisted on me showing him the signed books on the shelves, proudly displaying their “Autographed Copy” stickers, and insisted on taking my picture with them.
That’s all we had time for in Seattle. It was more of a spend-time-together visit than a sightseeing visit. But that’s okay. We’ll go back soon.
We rode back from Seattle through Ranier National Park and others: stately pines, cool meadows, twisty roads, deep shadows. Then we went to the nearest McMenamin’s, which may be my favorite. It used to be in a Victorian house, but now that houses only the pizza kitchen and they’ve built a restaurant behind it. We sat outside in the courtyard between the two, though, to enjoy the mellow evening. I indulged in their lovely Ruby Ale (which tastes of raspberries) and a chicken-pesto calzone.
I signed stock at Powell’s today, which was another huge thrill, because Powell’s is the bestest bookstore ever. I’d forgotten my camera, but took pictures with my phone. (I have no idea how to download them off the phone, but that’s a problem for another day.) There were several anthologies I have stories in face-out on the shelves, which was sort of…wondrous. Me. I have stories in all of those. Um, wow… I was good and bought only five books: The Blue Girl, Charles de Lint; To Serve and Submit, Susan Wright; Mystic and Rider, Sharon Shinn; Seal Island, Kate Brallier; and The Herb Bible. One YA, two SF/F, one paranormal romance, and one nonfiction. I’m not sure what that says. That I won’t be bored anytime soon, if nothing else.
Currently Reading: Morrigan’s Cross, Nora Roberts; Hunting Midnight, Emma Holly
Lately Listened To: Secret Portal, Scott Huckabay
Recently Watched: Lost