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breeden
ursulav

Not dead!

I’m not dead! Really! The Hugo nomination did not kill me! It’s just been a whirl of trying to get crap done, murderous allergies, appalling taxes—I owed more than my CAR cost! And when did the state suddenly turn into a starving wolverine?—and more trying to get crap done. I’m in the death march stage of art for Book Eight, I have to start writing Book Nine–by which I mean I should have started it a couple of weeks ago–and I am trying to come up with a new project for Life After Dragonbreath, which is tricky and involves returning to the rejection circuit. (If you thought that once you had a successful series, you no longer got rejection letters, think again. You just get a better class of rejection letter, which generally boils down to “This one isn’t for us, but since you can obviously sell books, send us the next thing!”)

And we had our driveway re-graveled, which means that there are suddenly large gaps in the wooded area, and if I want any control over what goes there, I have to put the plants in the ground NOW, because disturbed dirt = weedtopia. So I am getting up every morning and dropping seven or eight plants into the ground, which involves digging holes in miserable ground. (Shrub sized holes, some of ‘em.)  Then I stagger in and shower and compose blog posts about how overworked I am, and now I have to go write on Book Nine, codename Toothbreath.

Whew. But not dead!

Originally published at Tea with the Squash God. You can comment here or there.

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That sounds like a great story. I once almost sold a car for $500 plus two pounds of smoked salmon, but the deal was withdrawn while I was mulling it over.

No state income tax here, but that just means I end up paying more in sales tax...and there's no guarantee from year to year that state sales taxes will be deductible on federal taxes. So on the whole I'd say it's not a great tradeoff.

Not THAT much to tell.

I was left carless after my van had decided to have one last electrical short that basically took out anything with wires. It was a rather thorough frying of the electrical system - the fusing link wires that are supposed to protect from this sort of thing managed to take enough of a jolt that the entire length melted, rather than just a simple break. Totally dead in the water. So, I offloaded it and was riding my bike for a bit.

Some friends of mine were getting rid of their rather nice Buick LeSabre. It is a lovely car, but a smidge on the... well.. Buick end of the scale. With gas prices the way they are, and their commute as long as it is, they were upgrading to a Prius.

They called me, and I seem to recall the phone call going something along the lines of:
"We're getting rid of our car. Do you want it?"
"Why yes. Yes I do."

On the way there, however, I realized that showing up empty-handed might be a bit improper, so I swung by the local chocolatier (The Candy House of Davis - incredibly good truffles and fudge - the owner will often toss in an extra sample) and got a nice assortment to thank my friends for their kindness and generosity.

So... I got a car for chocolates.

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