Three people have finished my book. So far, it looks like it's not fashioned entirely of poop in the shape of a manuscript. Hurrah!

We'll be at the Clarion West party tonight. I have a present for matociquala, because I really like people who get so excited by something you said that they just randomly hug you.

Usually when I have a book with a personal inscription, especially an ARC, I treat it really well. I read it on the couch, without holding a beverage in my other hand, and I put it back on the shelf when I'm done so my friends don't use it as a coaster.



As you can see, I beat the crap out of Amanda Downum's book. And I'm not sorry about it.

It came with me on the bus, on my lunch breaks at work, in my backpack or pockets when I walked the dog, to the beach, to the bathroom. Perhaps I'm biased--I've never read something by Downum I didn't like--but this book has successfully melded several of my favorite fantasy elements.

Reading The Drowning City feels like an urban fantasy. It's quick, savvy, with a competent female character who I imagine wears tight pants and has an ironic curve to her smile. Many parts of the story take place in the city of Symir, dealing with venal authorities and corruption of the system.

But urban fantasies, even the best of them, never satisfy my desire for unique, jaw-dropping worldbuilding. Downum has envisioned fantasy elements that will stay with me long after having read this book. Her treatment of ghosts/demons/zombies struck me as being particularly fun. The almost police-procedural quality of the protagonist's investigations skillfully exposes the magic system, politics, and geography. The monsters in this book, especially those lurking in the water, are creepy and threatening without being one-dimensional frights; they, like every sentient entity in this story, have their own goals and personalities.

In fact, perhaps the best thing about this book is how deeply character-driven it is. The supporting cast are well-rounded and have their own lives to lead, and everyone's choices impact one another in a tangle of engrossing cause-and-effect. The characters make the decisions, and the decisions make the disasters, and the disasters drive the characters to make more decisions. When I guessed what would happen I was usually wrong, but I never felt like I'd been misled.

I regret to inform you that you have to wait at least two months to hold this book in your hands--but you don't have to wait for September August (according to Amazon) to pre-order it. That eight bucks was just going to buy you a couple of lattés that make your ass look big in those jeans,* so spend it on this book instead.

* Personally, I like big asses, but I'm willing to bet you don't feel the same way I do about your ass. And yes, with me, everything just eventually goes back to asses. I can't even review a book without asses coming up somehow.

My humorous fantasy quest told from the point of view of a foul-mouthed, kleptomaniacal closetcase is finished at 113K. I Didn't Want To Go On Your Stupid Quest Anyway needs a new title, however, since right now it sounds like a Fall Out Boy song.

And now, since my brain doesn't work, check out what I did last night:




P.S. davidlevine and kenscholes mud wrestling match: who would win, and how?

anghara and stillsostrange aren't dead yet! HOORAY!

Have awesome birthdays, in your very different parts of the country, and may you have much delicious cake.

That was excellent. Every time I attend one of these, I'm more convinced I might want to go to Clarion. I always love the instructors, and the organizers, and the students, and the graduates. The talent, the time, and the money will have to come later ;_; For now, I learn more every time I mingle with these fun, friendly, informative people!

Highlights:

• Congratulated nisi_la on her Tiptree in person instead of a lame e-mail
• Met matociquala and jointly hollered "FISH SEX," to the shock and consternation of surrounding writerly types; also collected Bear hugs
• Ogled Susan & Bill's gorgeous house and even gorgeouser cat (who followed us almost to the car)
• Became a facet of a magic eightball (well, a sixball) of writers who helped Nancy Kress plan a fictional death character murder!
• Worked out a one sentence summary of my book with nisi_la, criada, and Eileen Gunn: "A humorous fantasy quest as told by a foul-mouthed, closeted thief." (But I now think I might change "closeted thief" to "kleptomaniacal closetcase.")
• Squeezed mikigarrison and lasirenadolce and listened to them plan "burlesque pigs in space," as well as revenge for the double prank I played on Miki and jaylake last weekend
• Squeezed tbclone47 while he helplessly tried to escape
• Met quantumage in real life and found him quite entertaining
  
• Interrogated Clarionites, including the charming Sara Ryan, on what they found useful about their Clarion experience (I bet they never get sick of that question. Sorry, Sara!)
• I didn't ever get to meet Karen Joy Fowler (whose party this was!), but watching her get a tentacly gift from her students and turn it into an impromptu hat was unforgettable <3
  
• Came home to insightful and mostly positive reviews of my latest novel (the one we tagged above)

I haven't managed to keep up, but I've been so busy I forgive myself. We'll call it a hiatus. ;)

Title: Superhéroes
Wordcount: ~3700
Excerpt:

"Nineteen of us shelter in a church, but they have blocked the doors. It is burning. Do not forget us." - Wambui Maina

The Kenyan man who wrote that text message took off his tee shirt, urinated on it, and wrapped his two-year old daughter in the wet cloth to try and keep her alive long enough for rescue.

http://blip.tv/file/2261825/

Come on, you know you want to see someone skillfully pit Buffy against Edward Cullen. (Thanks jenwrites!)

Twitter isn't a toy anymore. It's a tool.

(Soon this blog will merge with my art blog and all will be one; for now, this is important enough to me that I'm going to spam those few of you that are watching both accounts. Sorry! I just want to be sure everyone sees it.)