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Didn't I use to be somebody?
Sep. 17th, 2008 05:43 pmI went into the post office this morning, to collect a parcel. I handed over my card and the guy behind the counter looked at it, read my name - and paused, and thought a bit, and looked at me and said, "Are you the author?"
And when I confirmed it, he said he'd read several of my books. I beamed upon him.
And then he gave me my parcel (I haz toner! I can auth again!) and I went my way, still beaming. My name has recognition value!
In other news: but no. There is no other news. I am an author; I auth. That is all.
Oh, except that Mac came and sat on me this afternoon, for half an hour together, with purring and snuggling and no biting at all. It must be getting cold again.
And I have taken to bringing him home a handful of grass, because that's all he actually wants to go out for, however much he fusses. It's kind of like keeping a very small horse.
And Barry used the scratching post! For the second time in two days! Tho' I fear it will prove a flash in the pan. (I should explain: he was, of course, the perfect cat, and scratched only on the post. Until the Awful Boy moved in. Now Mac scratches on the post, and Barry - doesn't. He uses the carpet a lot; he used to use the furniture, until I yelled at him. But suddenly yesterday he was giving the post what for, just like the old days. He got a treat for that. And then again today - but today, he was beautifully posed with his claws dug deep into the sisal, and I was just singing his praises, when in came the Awful Boy and pounced on him. And Barry screamed, and fled; and I bet that puts paid to this new/old adventure. Sigh...)
So: no news, then. Just work, and cats. Oh, and I'm going to be at FantasyCon, of course: panels at 10pm Friday night ("Crossing the Streams" - blurring the boundaries of genre fiction) and 12 noon on Sunday ("When does Fantasy become Horror?") - I suspect these may actually be the same panel, but hey...; a "Write for Life" workshop on Saturday at 3pm; and a reading, 5.30pm on Saturday. Be there, O my beloveds...
[ETA: when I am not panelling, look for me in the bar. Tall guy. Wearing black, from top of head to soles of feet. In general, I realise that at F'Con this is not much help; but start with the black cap, there aren't so many of those.]
[ETA 2: If in doubt, ask me about my teddy bear.]
And when I confirmed it, he said he'd read several of my books. I beamed upon him.
And then he gave me my parcel (I haz toner! I can auth again!) and I went my way, still beaming. My name has recognition value!
In other news: but no. There is no other news. I am an author; I auth. That is all.
Oh, except that Mac came and sat on me this afternoon, for half an hour together, with purring and snuggling and no biting at all. It must be getting cold again.
And I have taken to bringing him home a handful of grass, because that's all he actually wants to go out for, however much he fusses. It's kind of like keeping a very small horse.
And Barry used the scratching post! For the second time in two days! Tho' I fear it will prove a flash in the pan. (I should explain: he was, of course, the perfect cat, and scratched only on the post. Until the Awful Boy moved in. Now Mac scratches on the post, and Barry - doesn't. He uses the carpet a lot; he used to use the furniture, until I yelled at him. But suddenly yesterday he was giving the post what for, just like the old days. He got a treat for that. And then again today - but today, he was beautifully posed with his claws dug deep into the sisal, and I was just singing his praises, when in came the Awful Boy and pounced on him. And Barry screamed, and fled; and I bet that puts paid to this new/old adventure. Sigh...)
So: no news, then. Just work, and cats. Oh, and I'm going to be at FantasyCon, of course: panels at 10pm Friday night ("Crossing the Streams" - blurring the boundaries of genre fiction) and 12 noon on Sunday ("When does Fantasy become Horror?") - I suspect these may actually be the same panel, but hey...; a "Write for Life" workshop on Saturday at 3pm; and a reading, 5.30pm on Saturday. Be there, O my beloveds...
[ETA: when I am not panelling, look for me in the bar. Tall guy. Wearing black, from top of head to soles of feet. In general, I realise that at F'Con this is not much help; but start with the black cap, there aren't so many of those.]
[ETA 2: If in doubt, ask me about my teddy bear.]