I'm sitting in a
hard wooden chair in a cafe in Da Nang. It is raining, loud against
the steep, sloped roof; it often rains here, but this is the first
serious rain in weeks. Outside, beyond the rain-spattered window, the
Han river slides by in a muddy pewter blur. Some days I like Da Nang,
some days I don't. Today I'm rather indifferent. Probably because
this chair is giving my ass flashbacks of sitting in church as a kid.
Squirm. Squirm.
A while back, Mark
Lawrence did a
thing where he got ten fantasy book reviewers rounded up to read
25ish self-published novels each. I signed up THE THIEF WHO PULLED ON
TROUBLE'S BRAIDS, and in due course it was included in the batch that
went out to Steve Diamond & co. at twice-Hugo nominated Elitist
Book Reviews. Nick Sharps, reviewer extraordinaire at Elitist and
at SF
Signal, had the great misfortune to be assigned my book. Despite
that, he posted a very nice review at Amazon and at Goodreads. You
could read
it here, if you were so inclined.
Amra book 4 is
proceeding apace. It looks like it will be a bigger book than the
previous three. If it gets much bigger, I'm considering splitting it
into two, though I generally hate the idea. Also, I don't think I'll
be posting more than snippets of it anymore, as we are rapidly
approaching spoiler territory.
Did I mention my ass
really hurts right now?