October 24th, 2007



TQB is a 588 page manuscript. It's flipping huge. It weighs six and a half pounds. And I know people who write mss twice that long. (Actually, if we hadn't decided to cut TQB where we did, it would be at least 200 pages longer, so apparently I've got it in me to go long too.) But I reel in awe and fear of people who write 1K+ page manuscripts. Anyway, the monster has been shuffled into an envelope and shall at some point later today wing its way off to New York. Whew.

Goodness. A very fast-talking American girl just rang the doorbell and tried to sell me €190 worth of makeup. Even if I wore makeup I wouldn't be tempted, in part because their showpiece was a bunch of lipglosses (lovelycolorsandthey'llevenplumpyourlips! said the girl. I did not say, "My lips are already full, thanks," as there seemed no point), and of the various kind of makeup I dislike, lipstuff ties for #1 on the list with fingernail polish, the idea of which just makes me twitch (it makes my fingers heavy). But even more, the colors for the eyeshadow and blush and the like were almost all entirely bad for me. They'd have looked good on irishkate, but not on me.

Also, I think if I were selling makeup I'd do a better job on my own, as her eyeliner was not straight and was too black, her lashes were too heavily done and stick-like, and the rest of her face was entirely neutral in color. I'd also do something more with my hair than have it scraped back in a ponytail.

Everybody's a critic, eh? :)

Oh, God. The car started overheating while Geni and Kevin were here, and when we drove it the mile from our house to the train station last week it really started overheating, so Ted brought it to a mechanic today, and the head gasket's blown. There's absolutely nothing we did wrong, the mechanic said, it's just that sometimes that happens. And it'd cost a thousand euro to fix. Not only do we not *have* a thousand euro, but the only reason to get it fixed anyway would be to sell it, and who the hell knows what we'd sell it for. Not as much as we'd have put into it, with the cost of purchase, insurance, and fixing a blown head gasket.

Apparently we need to find a salvage yard. Anybody know of one around Cork?


A month or two ago, jimhines ran a contest to send out copies of his book GOBLIN QUEST to people who hadn't read it, all for the price of reviewing it in their blogs. I got one of the copies, and I read it tonight.

GOBLIN QUEST is the story of Jig, an unfortunate goblin who--to summarize wildly--ends up on the wrong end of a D&D adventure party.

Only it is much, *much* better than that.

I mean, we've all taken a moment to wonder what it must be like to be the poor bastards at the other end of the sword when a party comes storming through the dungeon, but Jim's actually gone to the trouble to think it out. The result is a wonderful story that'll make anybody who's ever gamed laugh out loud, and even if you haven't, is still so well-drawn and considered that there's almost no way it can fail to charm. Jig's scrawny (even for a goblin) but smart (for a goblin), and as he gets himself further and further into heroicstrouble his main priority is just keeping himself alive while coping with the totally alien (and to his gobliny viewpoint, *incredibly stupid* and yet somehow effective) adventuring party. There are two more books, GOBLIN HERO and, in the spring, GOBLIN WAR, and now I can't wait to read them, because Jig has clearly gotten himself in so far over his head that I assume he'll end up...

...well. Go read 'em and figure it out for yourselves. :)