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?