Thursday, January 21, 2010

Book Anniversary Contest winner

Yes, the time-honored tradition of pulling slips of paper out of my hat has spoken. Thus is it so: Congratulations to Melanie Golden!

Thank you to everyone who entered and left the great comments and RT stuff on twitter.

Wednesday, January 13, 2010

Happy Birthday Tarot Cafe Novel Contest!

It's my book's birthday today. It turned a year old.

That's right, a year ago today I had a book published. It was brilliant. This book brought a lot of cool stuff into my life—great people and amazing opportunities. I hope that you all get to have that feeling many times in your lives.

So in gratitude for the love, support, and general awesomeness: I'm giving away a signed copy of The Tarot Cafe Novel: The Wild Hunt. I did a year ago, and it seems like a good thing to make into a tradition.

Until the 19th at Midnight PST:

So drop a note in the comments with how I can reach you for +1 entries.

RT on twitter and I'll give you +2 entries.

Here is a picture of the book's provocative cover!



If that's not enough, let me remind you Sequential Tart gave it a 9/10 and the book did reach #8 on an obscure Amazon.com top seller list. (Obscure top seller lists are the best obscure lists.)

It also has pictures! (I didn't draw them. Please stop asking if I did.)


So enter. Tell your friends to enter. You need something to read while you wait for Glee to return!

Thursday, January 07, 2010

What's happened so far...(Thursday Morning)

On Thursday morning, I was attacked by a Talky Face Pancake. Totally disrupted my breakfast and gave me a syrup burn when it tried to gum my arm.

Dante—whom everyone calls Andy for magical reasons we don’t need to get into—came to visit.

Dante and I embarked on a quest to find Stellina, who is who the pancake claimed to have been by.

Instead of finding Stellina, we found Maria. We were always going to find Maria instead of Stellina, but I didn’t tell you or Dante this.

Dante agreed to help Maria, a newcomer to the Twilight Lands, locate a place to live. We decided to try looking in Vancouver, which is one of your vanished cities.

In Vancouver, we realized Avalon was there. Avalon is my friend and Dante’s uncle.

When we found Avalon in a coffee place, we were attacked by Sconey MacScone. Sconey MacScone is a vile cranberry scone who spat dried cranberries at us. After Maria stabbed Sconey MacScone with a fork, the scone admitted that the former city of London sent it. And then the scone exploded. We were asked to leave the coffee place.

Not-Stellina told the former city of London that it’s my brother’s fault the former city was swallowed by the dream fields and is no longer a city. This was a lie. We’d like to find the former city of London to tell it this. Avalon felt the first step was to report the former city missing. Dante went with him. They’re now missing.

Maria and I were found by my cousin Neill—Dante’s Dad. If you’re confused as to who is related to whom and how, I will make this easy: Neill is Avalon’s older half-brother. Dante is Neill’s son. I am not related to Avalon.

Most recently, I was regaling Maria with the interesting tale of when I made friends with this dude named Lovecraft. He was sure he was having a dream, which is why he was all ‘Oh my, this is a most absurd dream.’ So I was all ‘Well, where I’m from is like a place in your dreams.’ He was all ‘My dreams are scary. They have shoggoths in them.’ I was like ‘Yeah, soap bubbles scare me, too. I don’t trust their sneaky popping.’

I told him about my world, the Twilight Lands, and how it defies human comprehension. On a regular basis. And he was like ‘Whoa, dude, that’s pretty scary.’ I was all like ‘Dude, I know. I’m from there, remember?’

Then he was all like ‘Dude, you know what really scares me? I mean like for serious? Time. I am so scared of time. It makes me feel insignificant and like I’m gonna die without really have accomplished anything.’ I was all like ‘Dude, that sucks. There’s no time where I’m from.’ He was all like ‘Whoa, dude, wait. You’re like from…beyond time?’ And I was like ‘Damn Skippy Peanut Butter, I sure am.’

Naturally, this led him to be very much like ‘Whoa, dude, who are you?’ And I was ‘I’m an Old One, dude. We’re totally awesome Elder Gods who have been and will be long after you’re dust. Do you want to play Rock Band with me or what?’

You doubt Lovecraft talked like that. You’re thinking, E—because you’re under the mistaken pretense that we’re friends or I like you and therefore you can call me E—Dude, seriously, Lovecraft would have never been that succinct. He would have rambled on for paragraphs. He did. But I’m paraphrasing what he said so that you don’t have to read all his inane babble about time and tentacles. Little HP had a serious grudge against a bad plate of calamari.

Now you’re thinking, Ethan—because you remember I never said you could call me E—Dude, seriously, you never told us you knew HP Lovecraft. You’re right. I didn’t. I’m just making sure you’re paying attention. Some people would be lazy and just read a summary so they didn’t have to read the actual blog entries.

Friday, January 01, 2010

Zero

I woke to great, fluffy flakes of snow gently falling this morning. The snow people write poems to sing about—the kind that falls amidst a sky that's managing to be a cheerful sort of grey. Playing through my head, for some reason, was the Glee cover of "You Can't Always Get What You Want."

It got me wondering, what is it about New Year's Day? It is just that it offers what we all want after a year that's ground us down and left us feeling empty—a new beginning? A fresh start. The canvas back again to paint a better future, because this time we'll get it right.

2009, for me, felt about three years long. My young adult manuscript went on submission to eight editors in late February. December passed without a response from any of them.

10 months of silence. 10 months of waiting. 10 months of hope growing weary, starved and forced to make weapons of paving stones while doubt after doubt tried to breech the walls. The last 3 months were spent feeling utterly powerless and trapped. A situation that's neither pleasant nor conductive to being a productive, creative person.

I didn't blog about it, because I was ashamed. Frightened that speaking about it would mean admitting that perhaps I was handcuffed to a most spectacular failure. By no means am I suggesting that no one else struggled and kicked their way through the 2009. Many of us did. Fighting our own battles against circumstances not entirely of our making.

I think that's why 2010 seems so significantly important. It has nothing to do with decades ending or a countdown to when Mayan Elder Gods return to eat the Earth. It has to do with a social consciousness desperate for some kind of do-over. A rest from this year that seemed so much longer than 12 months.

Along comes 2010: A sparkling, beautiful, perfect new year. The best gift anyone could ask for.

The song says you can't always get what you want. But somewhere around September, I realized that I don't know what I want anymore. Because what I thought I wanted has never felt so frustratingly out of reach. Dangling there long past the point of this fox declaring the grapes are probably sour.

Now, here's a lovely January first. All sunshine on the snow and white mountains and the kind of winter day that people sing about in the places where it never really snows the real, mean, cold snow. It makes me feel forgiving.

Like I can offer a do-over. A rollback. Set that counter to zero and start anew. Believe again that it will happen, it is happening, it has already happened.

If nothing else, I hope this darling little year can do that for you. Because—like the song says—if you try, sometimes you get what you need.