Oi.

Barraged by all kinds of health stuff — not the flu, thank goodness, but enough other stuff that I considered staying home today. Somehow I was able to write a little through it all, although I can’t figure out how I managed.

Will post pictures and videos from the Victorian Ball, which was lovely. I actually had dress envy, which is rare for me. I’m usually eying what the men are wearing in any given time period before 1900. But with the Victorians, I have one word: BUSTLES! And sometimes three words: BUSTLES WITH BOWS! The outfit I wore looked positively dowdy compared to the adorable bustle dresses I saw. For the first time ever, I actually looked around and thought that a black dress just wasn’t right.

I must really be ill.

And here’s another review for Sins of the Sirens. Although not the most favorable review of my work, it’s a very positive review for the book as a whole. I’m fascinated with what anyone takes away from my contribution because the three stories are so incredibly different — “Pinned” is straight erotic horror, “The Dark River of His Flesh” is historical dark fantasy and “The Last Word” is a Borges-like tale — that whatever story they “choose” says a lot about the reader’s general tastes. And, for the record, “The Dark River of His Flesh” is about what happens when a good person encounters his Shadow, and the transformation that occurs as a result. Self-imposed isolation is just a prelude to the necessary transformation. It also mirrors the process of recovery from addiction. (A therapist friend read this early on and very loudly went “Yippee, this is exactly right!” Good to know, eh?)

Carry on.