lydamorehouse | All Over The Place

I've already spattered my intellect all over the blogisphere this morning, so if you want to see what I've said you can check out:

1)SF Novelists for a rant inspired by a fellow SF novelists that's really all about my enormous pride, but in which I make a vague attempt to discuss the ubiquitous "what's wrong with our genre" question.

2) Wicked Authors for an inane (as usual) ramble about Halloween and urban fantasy, which I use to shamelessly showcase an adorable picture of Mason in his mummy costume from last year.

3) Wyrdsmiths for a note regarding an upcoming event at Keiren's Pub, which I will now shameless repeat here: Tuesday, October 14 from 5:30 to 7:00 pm -- there will be a "RAKING THROUGH BOOKS" event at Keiren's Irish Pub in downtown Minneapolis, featuring Wyrdsmiths: Eleanor Arnason, Kelly D. McCullough, and Lyda Morehouse/Tate Hallaway. The event gives the audience members a chance to have a discussion with writers - about the authors' works, the writing life, etc. Kieren's Irish Pub is located at 330 2nd Avenue South in downtown Minneapolis. The event is sponsored by The Rake, The Loft, and, of course, Kieren's Pub. The event is open to the public. Call the Loft (612) 215-2575 for more information.

Yeah, that's it. You were expecting something more brilliant on a Monday? Please.

But I do have other news (none of it brilliant by any stretch of the imagination.) On Saturday, Mason had a playdate with his Crossroad's gang of friends. It was a blast for him. These boys (and one girl) are really what any parent could hope for in their kid's first friends: bright and companionable. Mostly they share (I mean, they are 5 and 6 year olds,) and they get along famously. The parents are all good folk, too. We may all end up friends, which would be, as one of Mason's friends loves to say, "AWESOME!"

But... while twirling Mason around on the very hilly and unfamiliar backyard, I managed to, quite literally, take a header. As in, I landed on my FACE. I mostly did so to avoid landing on Mason, because, as soon as I felt myself falling, I tried to angle myself away from him, which I did very well to the point of smacking my entire weight (all 160 pounds of it) on my right shoulder and eye socket.

Did I get a nice shiner? No. And I am _so_ pissed off. I have all the pain and no AWESOME bruises to show for it. It really sucks. As I said earlier this year, I have always secretly wanted a good shiner. I just don't get in a lot of fist-fights, though I wish I did because I have the heart of a... well, a superhero. And, damn it, I just don't look like Spider-Man on the day after "BREAKOUT #1," and I'm mad.

But it has given me a new appreciation for television.

No, wait for it, this makes sense, really. Thing is, I used to always complain that you'd see these guys get into huge knock-down battles and then, in the next scene (or more likely next episode), they'd look great. I always thought that was unrealistic. But, now I figure these guys must have faces of steel, like I apparently do. I can get whapped so hard that my skin swells up, but no g-ddamn bruises!

It's so unfair.

In other news, I'm going to be betraying all that I believe in on Wednesday. The Highland Park folks who did an interview with me/Tate about her newest book asked the photographer if he would shoot a "spooky" picture of me for the article. I actually agreed to meet him at a cemetery. To all my fellow Wiccans out there... I'm sorry. Especially since I'm bound to look pretty ridiculous given my butch haircut and lack of make-up. (Although maybe I'll just go in costume and wear the wig I bought to be Tate.) *sigh* If only I wasn't a whore for booksales.

Oh, and you were right. Dexter got better. A LOT better. In fact, it's kind of obvious that the scriptwriters have gotten to the end of DREAMING DEXTER DARKLY because it ends so neatly. I'll be curious how season 3 goes.

Got to go. Mason isn't feeling well. I have to pick him up from school.