Mailing continues! I would estimate that I have three trips to the post office left to go, one domestic, two international (since I am only allowed to bring so many international shirts to the post office at one time). This has taken so very, very long, and for that I am genuinely sorry. This batch was more than twice the size of the last, with the associated administrative headaches (people asking for color/size/cut combinations that didn't exist, shirts not included in the batch from the printer, people not paying when prompted, which meant that we couldn't send the order to the printer in the first place, etc.), and as a consequence, it ran headlong into my convention season, which slowed me down like whoa.
There are a lot of reasons we're never going to do this again—this batch was the last, or at least the last "bespoke"—but the biggest is the scale. When I did the first T-shirt run, I was still a relatively new author, and so there were fewer people who cared enough to want to wear me on their chests, so to speak. The number of interested parties has increased with each run, and it's just become unmanageable. Thank you all for your patience. For the most part, you have all been incredibly kind.
The missing shirts have finally arrived, and are in their nicely sealed box, waiting for me to finish getting the first batch out the door. I will not open this box until I have cleared the space for immediate packing and shipping, to prevent excessive cat hair (or possibly a cat) from accompanying the shirts to their final destination.
The point of apparently vital clarification.
This past week, someone who knows me well enough to know my overall living situation, asked if something could be sent priority. I said that wasn't going to be possible, as I wasn't going to be able to get to the post office immediately, and would be putting stamps on the item and shoving it in my mailbox. My friend responded with, essentially, "Have your PA do it."
Y'all, there is no PA for this sort of thing. There is only me.
I have two functional PAs: Kate and Vixy. On a day to day level, this means they go through my website email before I see it, so that we don't have to deal with me going into a tailspin the next time someone decides to tell me that they're going to kill my cats. (A real thing, that people have really emailed me about, because humans are sometimes awful.) Vixy has a good grasp of my schedule, and while she cannot accept convention invitations for me, she can usually say whether or not a thing is likely. Kate knows when I am over-committing myself, and will smack me with a rolled-up newspaper. Kate is local enough that I see her about once a week (roughly). Vixy lives two states away from me.
When I talk about mailing things, I am talking about me, just me, going to the small, rural post office near my house, and mailing them. When I talk about doing inventory, or packing things, or sending CD reships, I am saying "these are all things I do personally, after I have finished making my word count for the day." And this is why sometimes CDs go out of stock, or it takes a long time for me to carry a large shipping batch, ten or twenty items at once, down to the post office.
I don't want sympathy, and I don't mind doing what I do; I wouldn't volunteer if I minded. But I would like people to keep in mind, when their giveaway prizes take a while or their customs forms are filled out sort of sloppily, or when I say "this is not open to international winners, I am so sorry, I just can't handle the customs forms right now," that it's just me, and I am just one person, with two hands, trying to climb an avalanche.
Even after Sputnik, weeks would go by without a noteworthy event. But, slowly but surely, the pace of space launches has increased. Just this last week, I caught wind of four exciting pieces of news. I can imagine a day in the not too distant future when I have to pick and choose from a myriad of options rather than reporting on every mission.
So what happened this week?
Find out at Galactic Journey!
I figured that they’d eventually text cancel, but they never did
Then I decided to change things up a bit
I don’t even know who this girl is, but she apparently thinks Cap’s birthday is kool
I figured, why not add another Avenger to the mix?
Then I said, what the heck, I’ll just send stuff about all of them
At that point, I knew this person was great (and I’m guessing she probably has a tumblr) but I wasn’t expecting them to respond at all, let alone in those amazing one word responses.
Knights made out of words
These two drawings are something different. You are looking at two scenes that include a knight: one is charging towards a castle, the other is proudly parading with a bird of pray. If you look carefully, however, you can see what is so special about them: not a single line was drawn to create these scenes. Such playful images drawn with words are more often encountered in medieval Hebrew manuscripts - although they are also seen in some Latin books, as this Tumblr shows. It’s quite fascinating to see word and image in such perfect harmony: two very different means of communication that are united for a moment to produce a powerful image.
London, British Library, Add. 21160 (Germany, 13th century). More information about this manuscript here.
"Pain and heartache. This is the part of the story where the wheel of fortune turns and dumps the protagonist right in it. Things have been getting increasingly worse for Loki ever since he came back from the Tenth Realm, and now we're getting to the point of no return. Things are getting dark and unpleasant and shot through with horror in pretty much everything I'm writing at the moment - you'll see it coming up in Captain America & The Mighty Avengers, in Doctor Who, in Judge Dredd, like I'm flushing something out of my system - but arguably Loki has it worst of all. So that's something to look forward to!" -- Al Ewing
( Read more... )
Married Life at the Moated Grange
The Lady Mariana's devotion to Lord Angelo is a legend in Vienna. Did she not plead for his life before the Duke, in spite of being jilted by him, in spite of his aspersions on her character? Though he is a disgraced man, cast out from the Duke's counsels, she defers prettily to him when visitors come to the moated grange, asks his advice, even though everyone knows that it was her grasp of business that enabled her to recover her fallen fortunes.
Two lovely children, too!
Such a pity that Lord Angelo suffers so with his health, so frequently sick, and the physicians helpless to understand his ailment.
Even though Lady Mariana seeks the prayers of the sisters of St Clare, so noted for their sanctity, and in particular that holiest of the sisters, the former Isabella.
In the convent parlour, a screen. If they converse, the sisters may not show their faces.
Mariana puts down the bundle she is carrying.
'I no longer need this habit. Even that can no longer arouse him.'
'His health grows no better?'
'Nor will it. I thank you for the lending of it. I have my children - my darling babies. He owed me that, leaving me neither wife, widow, nor free woman for so long.'
Lord Angelo lies abed, mortally sick. No-one comes.
The door opens. Marianna looks in.
'Why, my lord, you have not drunk your posset.' She comes further into the room. 'Here, let me help you to it.'
He stares in terror, but is too weak to resist when she lifts his head, raised the cup to his lips. 'This will cure what ails you.'
Black suits the Lady Mariana, as she follows her husband's coffin. The heavy veiling hides the smile on her lips. Five years. Five years, measure still for measure, Angelo has suffered. No-one would have believed claims made by such a disgraced man against his so obviously loving wife.
Now she is free.