Chai-fueled Rambling

Hey there, kids. I know, I've been remiss in my bloggery of late, but shit happens. Accept my sincerest apologies and this picture of Tom Hiddleston with a puppy.

I wanted to talk about the Penguin/Random House merger (All Hail the Random Penguin!), Disney's acquisition of all things Lucas and even the election. But time has gotten away from me and there's nothing I'd be saying about any of those topics that hasn't already been said (more succinctly) by someone else. *tosses blog notes over shoulder* So that's bollocksed that up a bit, now hasn't it? I've been working of late. Epic fantasy short story. (Can you have an "epic" short story? Calling it "high" fantasy sounds either pompous or like Bilbo was getting stoned with trolls. Anyway...) It's a bit of a stretch outside my comfort zone, but I love the piece and think it's got some legs. More on that as events transpire. Also started a Super Secret Project with a friend. Hope to have this one on the tables for Phoenix Comic Con. There will probably be a Kickstarter announcement soon. Watch this space. (No this one. THIS ONE.)

Submission plays with my sanity. According to Bransford's Pictorial Model I am somewhere between Black Widow and Jon Stewart. (That post by Nathan Bransford is still one of the best things I've ever seen. Ever.) On top of that, I'm waiting to hear back of a few things around ye olde homestead. (None of which I can speak about publicly at this time.) They're all connected, too. If one happens and the others don't, that's cool, but if all things come back in certain combinations, life will change in some interesting ways and some choices will have to be made. Grr. I don't feel like I've got too many irons on the fire or balls in the air... I feel like one of those cartoon firemen holding a trampoline, waiting for three or four people to jump. Which will I catch first? What if all those bitches fall at once? What the hell is going on? This is not my beautiful wife.

And the days go by....

Gah, anyway. Also, had an awkward anniversary. My daughter turned 7 just before Halloween. On the same day we marked one year since Nicki died. Someone posted a video that made me bawl my heart out. So appropriate. Quite cathartic. She would approve. We all wore our stripey socks in our Zoot's memory. Damn I miss that woman.

And now we prepare for Thanksgiving. How the fuck did we get here already? Last week it was damn near 90 degrees outside. That's not hyperbole or some nostalgic shit. I'm serious. Last week it was in the high 80s and I had the a/c on. Tank tops and shorts, for fuck sake! This week? I'm freezing. Right now? Bundled up in fleece, monkey socks (MONKEY SOCKS!) and still shivering. I caved and turned on the heat. I'm weak. (How the hell did I survive actual winters with snow and stuff in Indiana?) Started plotting Thanksgiving dinner among friends and fambly and was legitimately surprised to see that it's NEXT WEEK! What the hell? Where did the time go?

How is my daughter 7? How has it been a year since I saw Nicki? Since I held a bee on my hand at her wake?

Life moves pretty fast, so sayeth the Bueller. I haven't blogged much of late, because I'm trying to look around. I don't want to miss anything.

How about you?