Friendship is a sheltering tree.

Things have been a little toward the crappy side lately, and while I’m not going to get into the details, one of the most pressing and irritating issues is that I’ve got some pretty severe carpal tunnel going on. I’ve had to resort to using dorky looking braces, taking lots of Aleve, and not typing. The not typing thing is particularly maddening since, well, writing’s what I do (not to mention what I get paid for). To add insult to injury (literally!) since I’ve been stressed out a bit lately, my brain’s first response is to be all OMG HERE’S 20 IDEAS FOR NOVELS YOU MUST WRITE THEM DOWN NOW. (One, I have conceded to. It’s the first story based on mostly actual events that I’ve ever undertaken, and very close to me… and definitely treads the line into magic realism/literary fiction but we’ll see what becomes of that. Once I can actually, you know, type again, I’ll keep you posted. Working title: Glassmere.)

Since things suck I’ve been trying to look on the brighter side and really revel in good news. So: to share some good news! My short story “Dead’s End to Middleton” will be in Crossed Genre’s upcoming steampunk-themed issue. I can’t tell you how thrilled this makes me. The editors, Kay and Bart, are really good people (in every sense) and I love the concept behind their magazine. The issue will be out March 1 and I will post more details as I’m able. (Teaser: the story includes some heavy duty steampunk artillery, seven gun-toting sisters, screeching aliens, and… some science!)

In the meantime I’m working slowly on a project which I’m not yet at leisure to share (one of two… oh, secrets, secrets!) – however, the good part is that it’s in poetry rather than prose, so far fewer words to type. But I am very, very excited about it. Let’s just hope the fingers hold out.

And I can’t type much more or else I’m going to regret it. Rest, rest, rest… I’m not good at that. But I guess I have Season Three of The Tudors to watch… oh, you Early Moderns always get me, even if some of the actors irritate me. There’s always costume ogling, after all.

So, I started with a Coleridge quote and I will finish with Elizabeth I: The past cannot be cured. Hopefully my fingers can, though…