With 2020’s vicissitudes, I haven’t been doing any book signings this year. I suspect 2021 will be much the same, which is one reason I’m getting book plates made for some of those upcoming books: one for the Tabat books, one for Carpe Glitter, and a very cool “Cat Rambo” one that combines some of the motifs and symbols important to me. In the meantime, I’ve picked up some simple bookplates to use.
Want to give one of my books to someone and include a special touch? Drop me an e-mail telling me who you want the bookplate made to, and which book you’re planning on putting it in, and I’ll put a signed bookplate in the mail to you. Or want it signed to you for one of the books you already have or are planning to acquire? I’m happy to do that too.
Want your own bookplates? I got mine through Bookplate Inc. I got some extra to stick in books I occasionally loan out; that way they may come back to me. I’m still trying to remember who I gave my collection of Zenna Henderson stories to.
Want access to a lively community of writers and readers, free writing classes, co-working sessions, special speakers, weekly writing games, random pictures and MORE for as little as $2? Check out Cat’s Patreon campaign.
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"(On the writing F&SF workshop) Wanted to crow and say thanks: the first story I wrote after taking your class was my very first sale. Coincidence? nah….thanks so much."
~K. Richardson
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Poem for Sarah
Some deaths hit you
like a broken bone.
That sharp. That painful.
They stick with you, hurting even when healing,
a dull throb keeping
you from sleeping;
a startled, knifeslash pang when jostled.
And you know that, decades later,
it’ll still be that ache, that pain,
that returns whenever you are standing,
alone, in the melancholy rain.
The kitchen overlooks rooftops, then sound, then mountains. Hummingbirds live in the locust tree in back.Well, happy birthday to me. I’ve managed five decades and a bit so far; here’s to many more.
Man, this has been a shitty year in many ways, and one full of life lessons that apparently the universe felt were overdue. Some of those I’m still grappling with. I am so freaking behind on this book it’s not even funny, but thank god for both the wonderful time spent writing in California this summer and the kick in the ass that NaNoWriMo has administered. I’m feeling hopeful about that again and making steady progress.
At the same time among the bumps there’s been plenty of bright spots. Among them my first novel, my first appearance in a Year’s Best collection (edited by Joe Hill, no less), and my first acceptance to longtime goal Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction (I have been submitting there for over a decade now). I’ve had nineteen original publications come out since my last birthday, and twelve are currently forthcoming, including a team-up with Mike Resnick. Rachel Swirsky and I are working on some projects together, which is terrific fun. I have a good half dozen stories already spoken for. My collaboration with Bud Sparhawk finally got accepted so he can stop nagging me about why it hasn’t sold yet.
And I’m somehow SFWA President, which is surreal, but also cool because we’ve been getting shit done this year, including admitting independent and small press-published writers, getting a model magazine contract up, reinstating the member electronic newsletter, expanding SFWA’s offerings for self promotion, and even got a cool infographic that answers to all the times someone whinges about how SFWA doesn’t do anything. Not to mention the recent Accessibility Checklist. Nothing speaks like success, and we’ve had some solid ones this year, in my opinion, and I love this ass-kicking team. It’s freaky though, when there’s moments like talking to Harlan Ellison on the phone or getting e-mail from Robert Silverberg.
We moved! Which was awesome but a pain in the butt when it was going on. I love the new place so much; West Seattle feels like home already in a way that Redmond never did. We’re not quuuuuuite moved in all the way; at least, we’re still waiting on a couple of pieces of furniture before everything will feel squared away. And my brother Lowell came out for his first visit to Seattle, but hopefully not the last. I made lots of new friends, and had good times with existing ones, including my beloved Caren Gussoff and Sandra Odell.
As always I picked up some new domestic skills in my endless exploration; this year included how to brew kombucha, how to make Greek yogurt, and the amazing nature of browned butter, which remains me that I co-edited a cookbook with Fran Wilde whose contributors included some pretty august names. Holy smokes was that project a pain in the ass but we survived.
And there’s plenty to look forward to in the next twelve months. Another two-sided collection, hurray! Hearts of Tabat forthcoming, and hopefully Exiles of Tabat along with it. The usual plethora of stories. Continuing to expand the online school (I’ve got some very cool content coming up in 2016.)
So here’s to a lovely birthday weekend that will include Indian buffet and thrift shopping and either ordering myself a pair of shoes I’ve been wanting or pulling a couple of wants from my Amazon wishlist. 😉
Some deaths hit you