Kind of at the halfway point here at Frozen Dreams, folks. Kind of weird, seeing the manuscript form. Kind of weird, thinking about the really difficult parts coming up.
We were in Sofie’s combination study/artifact workspace, which was a nice combination of wood paneling, airy windows, and a tastefully boastful collection of certain items that she had personally collected from her expeditions. There were the obligatory crossed leaf-spring swords underneath an Old American Stop sign shield, of course — I swear, somebody’s churning them out in a shop somewhere — but the rest of it was more interesting. Shrunken-head, big-hair fetishes from the barbie tribes up in Old California, woven blankets showing chupacabras and odd saucer-like vehicles from what used to be Sonora, a collection of crumbling boards of Old American circuitry from the one military base dig Sofie managed to do in the Cold-Lands; she had packed a lot of field work in only a couple of years. I wondered whether she missed the Life. It seemed rude to ask, though.