The Association of Rhode Island Authors is having its yearly expo at the Crown Plaza in Warwick on December 3rd. I’ll be there, along with over 100 other local authors. Plus we’ll have panels, guest speakers, readings, a raffle, and Santa will be there.
Get all your Christmas shopping done in one place.
Ok, so I’m angling to get one nice long block of time in the next few days, and I’m going to go through it one last time before having anyone beta read. It’s still a little rough, and needs some fine tuning, but it’s SO close to being done.
Beneath a frosted night sky, glowing with cold radiance, the wind swept a brisk, hateful gale through flesh and bone. Among the darkened pines that stabbed into the New England night sky, a pair of figures stood on a muddy bank. With grim, wary eyes they gazed into the calm waters before them.
The echoes of stars shone back at them, dancing on the subtle waves. In the air, a sickening smoke still lingered, mingling with a mournful mist that crawled along the dark water, roiling and seeking, like ashen tendrils. A mournful sigh slipped from one silhouette, a taller man who wore a wide-brimmed hat that collected stray pine needles when they fell. His face was leathery and lean from sun and age, and the white collar around his neck felt especially tight this evening. He turned to his companion, who shared the somber sentiment of the evening, but hid it beneath a perfectly calm, neutral face, as he was used to doing. The eyes of that stoic man hid a kind of darkness, one the preacher was reluctant to even contemplate for long. Yet he could not keep his peace. He spoke.
“This will weigh upon my soul,” said the preacher.
A noncommittal grunt followed from his companion.
In the distance, that crawling mist rolled across the water, something ethereal and haunting. It glided over the surface, settling upon lily pad and driftwood.
“My friend,” said the Magistrate, putting a heavy hand upon his shoulder, “We did what we had to. There can be nothing left. The Earth had to be salted that nothing else could grow.”
“God forgive us,” said the Preacher.
“He will,” said the Magistrate, “For we have done his work and banished the evil to the depths.”
The Preacher turned, walking away from the ponderous dark waters. The Magistrate remained, and looked out on the gentle ripples with some satisfaction. It would be short lived, though. Odd shapes began to appear in the glittering murk, and soon, the lumpy, bloated backs and faces began to pierce the surface, their horrified eyes glinting in the scant starlight, locked into horrified rictus at the apathetic night. Gentle ripples swept away from the bodies. The mist settled over them like a shroud and the Magistrate wiped away his own tears as the thick, damp air filled his sorrowful lungs.
His heart would carry this guilt, and he would happily bear that cross so that something worse could not be loosed upon an unsuspecting world.
The War on Christmas has escalated. In a shocking move, Christmas has blitzkrieged through October and taken the last week of September. Halloween’s defenses were overwhelmed instantly in an aggression not seen in modern war. Many Spirit Halloweeens were not yet fully open and staffed, which some believe provided Christmas with its window of opportunity. The Julian council has not yet issued a statement, but an unofficial source close to Thanksgiving seems to indicate they will, as always, maintain their neutrality.
Field correspondents report there’s still fighting in the major shopping centers, but in surrounding dollar stores and craft outlets, the battle is already decided. When pressed for a statement, Jack O’Lantern remarked that this invasion was a tactical mistake on the part of Christmas, and that the Kringle regime will not hold the month for long.
Many speculate this move is in retaliation for the “Burton Incident” in 1993. No word yet from the North Pole, but sources within the administration say the move is part of a larger strategy to seize the Autumn months. At present, the only thing keeping Christmas from advancing is the Back to School line, and the question on everyone’s mind is: Is Kringle mad enough to throw decades of peace away by violating that demilitarized zone? Only time will tell.
This is it. Tomorrow is the day. I’m as ready as I can be. I’m excited and anxious. All my books came in, I have the rental, the car is packed, With books, signage, and accessories. I have food, water, snacks, chargers, pens, awesome table decor, and I’ve made sure to have change and my square.
I am ready. I am excited.
I’ve got my three books, and a teaser for Good Bones.
Come by and visit. I’ll be in the Rhode Island building. You can’t miss me.
I’ve been trying to do this event for four years. I lucked out, and got in. I found a way to get books cheaper, and placed an order for 50 copies of Icon in advance of the event. 3 weeks in advance. One week ago, I got notice they were going to be shipped.
They. Haven’t. Moved.
They haven’t even been delivered to USPS, and I need them for Tuesday. I’m pretty goddamned pissed off right now. I started printing with Draft2Digital because it was a LOT cheaper than Lulu, but now I’m absolutely screwed out of the biggest event I could do all year. This event was money in the bank. There was no way for me to NOT sell all my books, AND take orders for more.
But now, unless someone at the company gets in touch with me today, there’s no way to get my order in time. Again, these books haven’t moved in a literal week.
This event was downpayment on a house income, and Draft2Digital fucked me over. Or whoever their printer was that let the books sit there for a week. I’m not the type to go all Karen, but it’s been a fucking week!! Nobody could take EITHER of the 2 boxes to the post office for an entire week?! Come on!
I almost want to take legal action here. This is just absolutely ridiculous. And I hate to even consider this, but literally, this is a HUGE event for me, and I could clear $2000 in a single day of sales! But not if I don’t have any books!!!!