I'm the best mummy in the world

It's official. My cats said so. Well, not them, but the card they gave me. Well, not that they gave me exactly, but the one my mummy bought on their behalf. But, at least my mummy thinks I'm the best! And look, Sugar must have approved, because here she is with the card, and she's not glaring at me or anything.

Anyway. Obviously, today is Mother's Day in the UK, which means that yesterday was Fathers Desperately Trying To Buy Flowers And Cards Day. Except in my house, because a) it was my birthday, b) my brother and I are quite old enough to do this for ourselves (although you wouldn't believe the times I've got a phonecall late on the Saturday before from my brother, asking if I can get him a card, because he's forgotten) and c) this year, as the year before, my mother requested no cards, no flowers (she bought me 25 purple tulips yesterday) and no presents. Well, she is impossible to buy for anyway. Instead, bro and I are making lunch and dinner for her. That's what she asked for. Oh, and obviously that we clean up afterwards.

This works fine for me, because spending money I don't have on presents she won't want is acknowledged by both of us as a really stupid thing to do. However, I will just raise my hand and boast that I did get her the best Mother's Day present ever a few years ago, when we took her to see Bryan Adams, who she adores. We're going again this year, but not today. Obviously.

What's the best present you've ever got someone?

Nearly 25

Yes, I know. It's a horrible age. Well everyone seems to hate me for it. But you know? I'm going Lucy Diver on this one.

I've been away since Monday and this is just a fly-by to let you know I didn't relax myself to death. I know, it's a constant worry. Tomorrow, I will be 25. Tomorrow it's St Patrick's Day. Tomorrow my brother and my dad will come home fromAustria and tell me repeatedly how silly I was to not go skiing with them this year (because in their hotel there was a salad buffet for the entire duration of dinner! How could I say vegetarians weren't catered for??).

While I was away I got my first review for Sophie and it was FAN-FUCKING-TASTIC (if you don't like my language, then you will hate the book; also, what the frilly heck are you doing here in the first place??). So, picture me flying high. Even after a week of pizza and cider.

This week also marks the Maneater cover being on display at the Changeling Press blog; go and have a gander at Sahara's fantasitc cover work. Also, tell us what you think about St Patrick's Day, Irish themes, SciFi, Nathan Fillion, whatever.

Also, today is Red Nose Day, which for those who don't know is when the Great and Good of British comedy talent get together to raise money for charitable causes, most noticably those in Africa, and those at home in the UK. Intersperced with the funniest comedy you'll see today are the most touching films about poverty, AIDS, abuse. This year's lineup includes David Tennant (look close and he's in a kilt), Dawn French, Sting, Richard Armitage, the Little Britain team and Daniel Craig. Daniel Craig, people!

Last I saw, they'd raised about £15million. Yes, that's great--but it's also equal to about 25p for every person in Britain. Even I can afford that, and I'm broke beyond belief. National minimum wage is well over a fiver per hour (minimum wage, how I miss you!).

So, here's my birthday wish: since I'm 25, this year, go and donate 25p to Comic Relief this year. Or more. While you're there, go and see how damn entertaining they are--and tell me if you can't find someone there who either makes you laugh or turns you on or both. Because if they can't do either, what are you doing here?

Offski

I dunno why I titled it that. I'm not going to Russia and I'm not going skiing. Although dad and bro are. Skiing, that is.

I am going away for five days tomorrow, so won't be here until Friday. And even then, probably not a lot. Saturday is my birthday (you can send cards and flowers, magnums of champagne, etc. via my publishers, darlings) and Sunday will be spent recovering from it, so don't expect much from me until maybe Monday!

I shall leave you with these two, who already know something is up and are being deliberately adorable in the hopes I'll take them with me.



Oh, and while I'm gone, do find time to read either I, Spy? or Maneater--depending on your preference, see how democratic I am?--and tell me what you think!

ETA: oh, and yes! I forgot I was going to post the winning I, Spy? contest entry today. Well, here it is. The winner is DawnM, and here's her tale of woe.

This happened a few years ago now, just a couple of days after Concorde crashed in France, and I was due to fly out from Luton or Stansted. It was one of those rare blindingly hot, humid days that you get in England. The departure lounge wasn't so bad, not the most comfortable seating but at least it was air conditioned. After waiting about an hour they finally let us go through boarding, only to find ourselves in another lounge. This one however had even more uncomfortable seating and not enough to go round all the passengers. So, of course I'm one of those left standing. And standing . And standing. Because they wouldn't let us on the plane, or back to the departure lounge. And there weren't any facilities and no air conditioning. Well, I don't do well in the heat and by the time another hour had rolled by, I'm close to passing out. Finally, they let us on the plane, and we all think we're about to go.

Only, it turns out the plane had an engine fault, as they informed us once we were onboard, and they're waiting for a part. Now they knew all this so I can only surmise it was pure sadism on someone's part to get all of us out of the departure lounge, where we could have been reasonable comfortable in the first place. Inspires great confidence in airlines, especially coming straight after a plane crash. And of course, no engine = no air conditioning. And 2 or 3 hours wait before they get the part and get it fixed. So everyone's baking in their seats, and you're not allowed off the plane and back into the terminal. And this was supposed to be a short flight, so there aren't any drinks or food. Well, you can imagine.

Just to cap all this off, I'm sitting right at the front of the plane, just behind the pilots' cabin and the stewards' alcove. And right on the other side of me is a woman who's informed the steward that she's terrified of flying. Oh, joy! Now, having worked in hospitals for longer than I care to think, I have the medical sense of humour and can find just about anything funny in the most inappropriate situations. So I kinda appreciated the stewards take on the plane crash because I understood institutional humour. Only the problem was, they'd forgotten (maybe that's being generous they might have thought it amusing given there was someone frightened of flying in the front seat) that you could hear them quite clearly through the curtain, and their humour was morbid to say the least, and didn't go down to well with most of the passengers.

Definitely not the most pleasant flight I ever had, especially as the long delay meant that it was night by the time I got to the hotel, and the kitchens were closed.

Sophie sympathises: after all, she worked at Stansted and often experienced its erratic air-conditioning. In fact, she's such a geek she could probably figure out where you were flying to: was it Belfast, or Derry?

Dawn wins a free download of I, Spy?. Thanks everyone else for entering--there were some truly terrible tales in there!--and keep your eyes peeled for the release of my next book from Samhain, Ugley Business, due out in May.

Thursday Thirteen

Thirteen Things about ME 1. I've never done one of these before so I had to go and visit the Thursday Thirteen site to figure out what the hell it was about. 2. In nine days it will be my birthday. On Monday it will be my cousin's birthday, and she's nine years younger than me. 3. I have a new book out today that I wasn't expecting until Friday! 4. I think smock dresses make people look pregnant. 5. I still wish my hair was curly, even though I know it's way more work than I could ever be prepared to do. 6. I haven't brushed my hair for about three years, not counting ruby weddings or funerals. 7. There's a black and white cat who thinks he lives in our house, even though someone else has put a collar on him. We named him Jess after Postman Pat's cat. 8. I eat chocolate muffins for breakfast. They're low fat and used to be really nice, but recently they changed the recipe so they're not. Now I'm wondering how many Weight Watchers points there are in the proper ones. 9. I first went to Center Parcs when I was about three and have never lost the sense of childish wonder I had then. In fact, I'm going back next week all by myself. 10. I have never read Pride and Prejudice. Or any book by Jane Austen. Does this mean I'm not allowed to be a romantic novelist any more? 11. My favourite song in the whole world is Fall At Your Feet by Crowded House, and has been since I was about fourteen. 12. I still can't remember which button makes a space, which makes punctuation, and which cycles through options when I'm writing a text message, even though I've had my phone nearly a year. 13. Even though I got a B in maths I never actually learned my times tables. Links to other Thursday Thirteens! 1. (leave your link in comments, I’ll add you here!)

Get the Thursday Thirteen code here!


The purpose of the meme is to get to know everyone who participates a little bit better every Thursday. Visiting fellow Thirteeners is encouraged! If you participate, leave the link to your Thirteen in others comments. It’s easy, and fun! Be sure to update your Thirteen with links that are left for you, as well! I will link to everyone who participates and leaves a link to their 13 things. Trackbacks, pings, comment links accepted!

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Cats and Sophie and birthdays, oh my!

Remember how in June last year I posted a gushing blog about Sophie? Well, nine months later, here she is, pink and shiny and about as clever as a newborn. And I'm just as proud of her!

So proud, in fact, that I'm running a contest for one lucky person to win a free download. It's super-shiny, too. See, Sophie works in an airport--at least, to start with. And we all know airports are ideous places. In fact, I believe there is a circle of hell that very much resembles Terminal Four of Heathrow.

Anyway. What I'm asking you to do is just this. Think about your worst airport story. Or your worst air journey. Or tell me the lengths to which you've gone to avoid flying. Email them to me before Sunday 11th March, when I shall pick a winner. For more details, check my website. While you're there, check out the Extras.

Also speaking of things that happened last year, you may remember nearly a year ago a completely ballistically ecstatic post from me on the occasion of my birthday when I was given an IOU for a cat. Well, actually, I got two (no, did I? Funny, I never mention them here).

Well, today my babies are a year old! Yes, the tiny little Sugar-plum and Spikelet are officially grown-ups. And, as predicted when they were still small enough to reduce grown men to cries of, "Awww!", they turned out to be super-gorgeous.

Yes, I'm smitten with the...cats. So, happy birthday Sugar and Spike!

Oh, and don't forget to check out my March news, in case I've forgotten anything today.

Catch-up

Wow, I left it a whole week? And I still don't have a lot to report--been busy the last week preparing for not one but two releases this week! I, Spy? is out tomorrow, and Maneater on Friday. I also suddenly realised I sort of need to get working on the next Sundown book, which doesn't quite have a title yet, but is about a fae and a vampire in New York. I think.

Also, I'm going away next week for five days, so I need to...I dunno, fiund a suitcase and some clean clothes. Given the state of chaos in which I live my daily life, this may prove timeconsuming.

Oh God, yes, and I need to get my newsletter out!

In the meantime, have a cat picture. It's been a while since we had one of Sugar. Here she is, trying to figure out how the door works.


Oh, and just for fun:

Boromir
With good intentions but misunderstood motives, you are a hardy, if somewhat unreliable, companion.
I ask only for the strength to defend my people!
Boromir is a character in the Middle-Earth universe.

I, Spy, the movie!

Well, sort of. Er, I hope this works since I don't have much luck with uploading videos...

Doublespeak

Big Brother is watching you. No, seriously: I signed that online petition about roadpricing, and in return got a personal email from His Toniness. I was going to blog about it (because it's just amazing how several hundred words can totally fail to contain anything actually resembling a fact) but in reality politics bore me silly and I really hate discussions on the subject. I try to keep politics and religion off this blog.

I will, however, give you this rather wonderful quote on the (sort of) subject:

I must confess the the activities of the UK governments for the past couple of years have been watched with frank admiration and amazement by Lord Vetinari. Outright theft as a policy had never occured to him.

...from, of course, Terry Pratchett. (Go and read some more here. Especially the one about cats and pills. And the 'fast lane' one, which I've put on Sophie's MySpace).

In other news (and you damn bats nearly had me typing 'udder gnus' there), yours truly is feeling a little delicate because she somehow ended up in a pub with late opening hours with a bunch of Irish rugby fans. After Ireland had beaten us at rugby. And I was on Guinness. Which wasn't being served in half pints. So I'm going to go to bed now...

Busy busy

With three books scheduled for March I've been run off my feet. Well, actually that's a lie: I've been glued to this keyboard. Ought to have blogged more, but how interesting is: Got up. Did promo. Ate. Slept. Hmm?

Also, yesterday was tricky since my office is upstairs, and shortly after I went downstairs in the morning, my parents started ripping up the stairs carpet, underlay and grippers in preparation for the new carpet being laid in the afternoon. Then, of course, when the carpet was being laid, going up and down the stairs was also inadvisable. So I read my book instead.

You want to see the new carpet? I know you're desperate to. Here's Spike, trying to recreate those carpet ads (who did them? Can't remember) with the fluffy white puss sprawled on the shagpile. See?



Oh, and I did some website work: check out the profiles I made for Sophie and Luke!

ETA: yes, those boots are awesome, aren't they? They only cost about £25, too (I love cheap stuff). However, I've only just recovered from the severe pain they induced not only in my feet but all the way up my legs as I tried to balance on those heels all night!

Watching the people get lairy

is not very pretty I tell thee!

See? Picture from Saturday night, which was a West End Musicals party at my friend Nick's house. He and his ex-flatmate Tom dressed each other--which meant Nick was the Child Catcher and Tom was Maria Von Trapp. And he wasn't even the silliest one there: there was also a hill (who was alive...geddit?), two tractors (from Flashdance, apparently), a sheep (er...?) and a Blue Man. Made me, as the Phantom of the Opera, look positively sensible.


The Phantom of the Opera is theeeeeere, inside your miiiind! Ahem.


Tractors. Apparently.



You know you've had too much beer when the hills really do seem to be alive.


Yes. Definitely too much beer.



The name on everybody's lips is gonna be...well, Amanda and Ailsa, actually.




Sheep. With Billy Elliot (see, tutu and boxing gloves, yes? I know. She's Australian).



Oh, this one's sideways... anyway, no one had heard of Brigadoon. What's wrong with people these days?

New cover!

It's tough to form a meaningful relationship when you have all the dating skills of a praying mantis.

For Chloe, human interaction is an absolute disaster area, but then she is a siren. Vegetarianism is not an option when you turn into a six-foot eagle with a human head. But in the glittering lights of Las Vegas, she meets the dazzling, irresistible Alexius.

He's gorgeous. He's sexy. He's perfect in every way. And he's about to hand her over to the harem of a collector of paranormal beings.

Alexius is about to find out that when a siren says you look good enough to eat, she's really not joking…

Pretty, huh?

I'm not going to mention Valentines Day

Oh bollocks, I just did.

Well, anyway. Today is important for so many other reasons. My neighbour's daughter is X years old today (yes, X, I can't actually remember and am too lazy to go back and rewrite a sentence I've already started). The TRS CAPAs, which which yours truly is nominated, are announced. It's the first anniversary of Candy's death.

Anyway. That's miserable, so I'm going to post a little quiz. Yeah, I've done it before, but since it took me five whole minutes to find an entry I posted a year ago, I reckon Blogger has given up on archiving by date so I doubt anyone'll find it.

Here's the game. You put your iPod on shuffle (or in my case, the songs my new PC managed to extract from my old one before the connection gave up and died) and they magically give you the answers to the following questions!

It's like being 15 again. Except when I was 15 my computer didn't even have speakers...


1. How does the world see you? All Saints: All Hooked Up
Am I?

2. Will I have a happy life? Buddy Holly--True Love Ways
Er, I'm reasonably sure I never uploaded Buddy Holly...but i take this as a yes?

3. What do my friends think of me? Jennifer Lopez--Ain't It Funny.
Okay, would like to point out that this is the video which I have--and that's because it has a VERY hot guy in it. Seriously.

4. Do people secretly lust after me? Maroon 5--This Love
Also a video. But actually a Buffy fan video about Spuffy. So...er.

5. How can I make myself happy? Maroon 5--This Love
Um. The song this time. I think this is broken...

6. What should I do with my life? Johnny Rivers--Tracks Of My Tears
I don't even know this song. WTF is going on?

7. Will I ever have children? Craig Armstrong: Glasgow Love Theme
From the Love Actually soundtrack. Um. Well, there are usually rosy-cheeked youngsters in Richard Curtis films, right?

8. What is some good advice for me? Girls Aloud: Biology
"The geek at your feet says you're neat and your heart beats closer..." of course.

9. How will I be remembered? Elvis Costello--Oliver's Army
Uh.

10. What’s my signature dancing song? Alicia Keys--Never Felt This Way
Not...really...a dancing song.

11. What’s my current theme song? Al Green--Let's Stay Together
Who the hell has been programming this thing?

12. What do others think is my current theme song? Abba--Angel Eyes
This one almost makes sense. Or might, if it had any actual relevance to me.

13. What shall they play at my funeral? Eve Cassidy--Ain't No Sunshine
Yes! Yes! SUCCESS!

14. What type of men do I like? Angie Hart--Blue
Better get stocking up on woad, then.

15. How’s my love life? Fleetwood Mac--Tell Me Lies
...Yeah.

Well, that was a diverting waste of time. Methinks possibly someone else has been downloading music on here. "I need it for the band." You're gonna play Al Green songs?

Anyway. Have some cat pictures:

Sugar: non temeris messor. "Fear Not The Reaper."



Spike brooding that he's whiter, softer and fluffier than that silly cold stuff outside.

All the world's a stage

Even if some of it is centre-stage, some of it is in the wings and bits of it are stuck up in the fly loft. Or in the back row of the auditorium, behind a pillar.

If that's so, then Sheffield is sort of outside the back door, hanging around the rubbish bins, waiting for an autograph. Or always used to be, anyway. Since Sam West took over at the Crucible, best known for hosting the Snooker World Championships (the glamour!), Sheffield's been edging into the auditorium again. It's still sort of in the wings, but it's doing okay.

Why am I blethering on about this? Well, because I went to see a play at the Crucible the other night. I've never been a great reveiwer, so I'll just say that a) I liked it, b) Eve Best is bloody brilliant (but then I knew that when I saw her in 'Tis Pity), c) Sam Troughton is really quite adorable and d) I still haven't figured out what that sodding bird was about. If you want to read a proper review, go and have a look what The Times has to say. I mostly agree with them.

I'm more interested in saying how it was to go to a city I've previously only seen the greyest parts of, and finding out what it is that student friends have raved about. You see, while they hang around the hip'n'happening West Street area of pubs, curry houses, and more pubs, I go to see my nannans. And they live in the really grey bits.

Sheffield has a lot of grey.

But...it also has someone really keen on the town council, who's been building galleries and museums and stuff that I suspect are probably only really freqented by school trips and the aforementioned students. They've also built the Winter Garden, which is like some little version of Kew or Center Parcs, and which was right next to my hotel, viewable from the breakfast room by means of a giant glass wall. A jolly nice place for a stroll after brekkers (and don't you love hotel breakfasts? There's so bloody much on offer and since it's all paid for, you end up--okay, I end up--faving a four-course breakfast. Madness!).

Anyway. Conceptions changed. I actually didn't see much outside the hotel, Winter Garden and theatre, but it was a nice change from council flats and nursing homes. And you know, what, maybe I've been to too many london theatres, but it was kind of sweet to see people treating the theatre as an event. They were dressing up for it, ordering ice creams and everything. People in London tend to snob about (and yes, 'to snob' is now a verb, I have decided) and get all intellectual about the plays wot they're seeing.

Plus, it snowed. Which was a) pretty and b) no inconvenience at all, since we walked about a hundred yards in it. Hah!